As Saturday night began, the bohemian Brunswick Street set staked out and sat down in the front third of Melbourne’s ambient Spanish Club. Relative newcomer, Bertie Blackman and band, banged out some ballsy indie rock to get the ball rolling and were well received by all. Between this set and Kevin’s (Bob’s) characteristically low key entrance to the stage, all sitters were uprooted by a diverse but slightly older than average crowd, who made sure that it was standing room only in the now near-capacity venue.
With his face engulfed by stylishly unkempt blonde hair, sporting a black waistcoat, harmonica headgear on, and strumming a well travelled acoustic guitar adorned with stickers, Bob was just as one might imagine. As with his superb new album, Suburban Songbook, the lead single Don’t You Think it’s Time, was the first number of the set and was met with an all-in sing-along. Despite having only a few Bob Evans gigs under their belts, the three-man supporting band were as tight as tight could be, and the number of instruments each band member proved themselves masters at was, in itself, a sight to behold.
Mood wise, the set was an undulating affair in much the same way that Evans’ two albums have been. There were the bouncy, light-hearted, flashing lights and dance friendly numbers like the Blur-esque Don’t Walk Alone, or the somewhat rocked up indie pop-ish Nowhere without You, that invited a more energetic level of crowd involvement. Yet the more introspective, subtler, quieter moments (like standout track, Flame) were made equally rewarding for punters with the ambient amber lighting and intimate space suiting the set to aplomb. Bob’s opting to perform a few songs solo during the middle section of the set provided yet another variation in what may otherwise have become an unnecessary over-usage of his newly acquired band. Having been on the road with Josh Pyke since early this year, his incredible aptitude as an acoustic, folky, multi-tasking guitarist, singer and harmonica virtuoso was plain to see.
A generously sized encore incorporated a sublime cover of Rain Drops Keep Falling on My Head and some obscure Bob Evans B-Sides, underscoring the fact that despite Kevin Mitchell having played in Jebediah for a decade, the Bob Evans original material is, at present, actually pretty limited.
From beginning to end, the standard of musicianship amongst Bob and his jack-of-all-trades band members was outstanding. Also worth a mention was the quality of the sound engineering, making the performers sound as clear on stage as on the record, an all too rare a feat indeed. An understated gem of a show – here’s to hoping for another Bob Evans record sometime in the future, so that next time around he can perform an entire set of originals!
