CW Stoneking, Joe Bludge,Steve Joines, Bekk Reczeck,Miranda Pollard @ Mojo's,North Fremantle (29/11/2006)

Fri 1st Dec, 2006 in Gig Reviews

In a room all red and shadows it takes a strong heart to glow and be heard above the rabble of Wednesday night pub banter. Miranda Pollard’s delectable folk and whimsy floats on the night and descends on the room like so much silk and lace. More often seen surrounded by New Rules for Boats, Pollard comes into her own as a solo artist, and her performance wants for nothing. With a strong voice, a telling repertoire, and evoking a full rainbow of emotion, here is a young woman undeniably at home both on stage and behind her guitar.

The Bank Holidays‘ Bekk Reczeck’s slight warble was harder to hear over the white noise emerging from the back of the bar. Still, her selection of her band’s tunes wriggled their way through the room like stealth sonic missiles with their targets set to your heart. Reczeck sings like a little bird with a crooked tongue, with just too much substance to be labeled ephemeral

Possibly the only thing deeper than Steve Joines’ voice is his soul. With ballads that could stand their own next to tunes by the likes of Nick Cave or Tom Waits, he presented the crowd with some songs he had ‘been fiddling with’ over the preceding days. With a subtle yet captivating stage presence, his songs evoked the sentiments of bush balladeers from years gone by. For any misguided soul who may have been floating half-interested through his set, his cover of Prince’s (or more popularly Sinead O’Connor’s) Nothing Compares 2 U should have succeeded in grabbing their attention and wrestling it to the ground.

Standing on stage, Joe Bludge looked somehow thinner than he was. Through his endearing scowl he spat out meandering, storytelling lyrics, which sustained the songs through otherwise less than captivating guitar work. In an old but dapper suit, Bludge’s rollicking style prepared the room for the theatrics of the night, and moved a few to try out a jig or two.

CW Stoneking took to the stage in front of a solidifying crowd mixed of curious punters and long time fans of both the artist himself and the tradition of music he carries on. The mass pushed up against the bar and a proliferation of hats worn on high meant you could hardly see the stage for about the first quarter of the set. Restricted to the aural dimension, I was imagining a man black by birth or by sun, standing in the dust of the train yards flogging elixirs for good health and happiness in a traveling medicine show, in the Deep South of 1920s America.

When the shifting of the crowd allowed me to add vision to my experience, I was taken aback a man younger than he sounds, dressed in a funeral-black preachers suit and big ol’ black hat. Although Stoneking hails from Footscray, Victoria, somehow the mud from the banks of the Mississippi was clinging to the tread of his shoes.

The King of Hokum sings in an inimitable accent, which he sustains throughout the banter betwixt his songs, a device which threatens to shift Stoneking from musician to character actor. He played his steel guitar as though he was trying to prevent it escaping him, and for a few songs swapped it for a banjo. He chose songs both of his own creation and borrowed from performers long since given to dust, including a popular Robert Johnson number which kicked the crowd up to a whole new level.

Inspired by a few stomping dancers in the front of the stage, midway through the set Stoneking suggested a dancing competition, but as the song rolled on it was clear the punters were happy enough to dance themselves into frenzy for the sheer passion of it.

In 2006, Stoneking’s originality lies predominantly in his anachronistic style. But whether he adds anything to the already rich tapestry of culture left by Robert Johnson, Charley Patton, Bukka White and their ilk is questionable. Whether he is an old soul reincarnate, or has just mined the extensive library of Smithsonian Institute original recordings, most seemed happy this itinerant delta bluesman found his way to us for Mojo’s final Going Solo night.