Okay, so this review is a bit late to the party. Courtney
Barnett’s short New Zealand jaunt is almost over. Which means any sort of
comment I make on it is already largely redundant. But I feel compelled to post
a few words about her opening night in Wellington a few Fridays back, just for
posterity’s sake. Just because I was there. A sure sign that gigs are few and
far between for me at present.
The Friday night at San Fran was the first night of a three-night
sold out run at the venue for the popular Aussie indie troubadour.
Support was provided by Emily Edrosa, and San Fran was
already packed to overflowing when I arrived to catch the last 15 minutes of Edrosa’s
well-received set. In all honesty, I wasn’t overly impressed with what I heard,
but that may have been more to do with the fact that I was heavily distracted, and
frustrated, by not being able to find a comfortable standing spot amid the throng
of activity around me. I eventually settled for a spot at the rear of the venue, while my more resilient gig-companion opted for somewhere much closer to the stage.
Barnett arrived on stage at 9.30pm and for the next 70
minutes she offered us an absorbing mix of decade-old songs and brand spanking
new ones, an Arthur Russell cover, and a Kurt Vile duet that wasn’t really a
duet at all.
After opening with long-time favourite ‘Avant Gardner’, the solo
Barnett then gave us ‘Walkin’ on Eggshells’ and ‘Dead Fox’ before being joined
on stage by current co-conspirator Stella Mozgawa (of Warpaint) for new single
‘Rae Street’, which was followed by another new track, and the aforementioned Russell
cover, ‘I Never Get Lonesome’. Mozgawa then exited proceedings temporarily.
There was a lot of audience banter and interaction throughout,
with the in-joke being that a lot of enthusiastic fans knew all of the lyrics
and Barnett was quite happy to let the crowd sing along unaccompanied at
various points. Never more so than on gig centrepiece ‘Depreston’, a highly
relatable tune about the minutiae of suburban living, and easily the highlight
of the night for yours truly. That song really has morphed into something of a
signature tune for Barnett.
Barnett sang both parts in the Kurt Vile “duet” ‘Let It Go’,
which was slightly odd - if understandable, given Vile’s absence. That was
followed by ‘Sunday Roast’ before Mozgawa returned to the stage for another
brief run of songs from the pair’s upcoming collaborative album, Things Take
Time, Take Time.
All of the new tunes had a pronounced country/folkie
flavour, and all were enjoyable enough. The sort that will doubtlessly grow in
familiarity over time, with the album, as I understand it, not due for a full
release until November.
We finished up with ‘History Eraser’ and a one-song encore,
‘Nameless Faceless’, but not before Barnett had described the gig as “the best
night of my life” in her finest deadpan voice.
I had my doubts about the authenticity of that statement,
but much younger, less cynical attendees lapped it up and seemed convinced. As
I set off to brave the chilly Wellington elements, post-gig, I tried to recall
the last occasion (pre-lockdown) I’d seen an “international” artist live on
stage at San Fran, but it was a forlorn task, and I was mostly just happy to
have enjoyed a rare night out.
For many of us of a certain
generation, for many years, the Grateful Dead have been little more than the
convenient butt of many a hippy joke. A band that helped define an era,
certainly, but nonetheless a band widely considered to be the complete antithesis
of the punk rock and post-punk movements. And therefore, very much fair game to
become an object of ridicule (in my insular world, at least). It is, or was, a
position many mainstream observers also adopted, to be fair, with derogatory
"Dead" references popping up in movies, books, comedy/parody, and
various other forms of popular culture in the years since the band's profile
peaked in the late Sixties and Seventies.
It probably didn't help that
songwriter and guitarist Jerry Garcia bore an uncanny resemblance to
(pothead) Tommy Chong of the infamous Cheech and Chong comedy duo. Or that the
music of the Grateful Dead was deeply entrenched in what I personally
considered to be a barren no man's land – that well traversed four-pronged
crossroads where country rock meets classic rock meets folk meets Americana. It
was a place I didn't really want to hang out for any length of time, and
despite becoming more open minded as I get older (or so I like to think), it
still doesn't really excite me all that much. And yes, these prejudices say a
lot more about me than they do about the Grateful Dead, sure.
But the Dessner brothers-curated
tribute album, Day of the Dead, throws something of a fresh light on the band's
music, and while it doesn't really change my position on the Dead, it does
offer another perspective – that of the contemporary artist of a distinctly
post-millennium vintage, charged with interpreting large chunks of the band’s
extensive catalogue. Including some of the biggest “indie” names in the business.
It reconfigures our context somewhat, by placing emphasis back on the music,
and not the lifestyle.
Tommy or Jerry?
First things first, just for
clarity: I picked this up mainly on account of the involvement of Aaron and
Bryce Dessner, simply because I'm a big fan of their work with The National. My
version of the album – that which is under review here – is the three volume
download. The alternatives being the 5-CD set, or limited edition vinyl box
set. Either way, it all amounts to some 59 cover versions, and well in excess
of five hours’ worth of music. With sale proceeds going to the long-standing Aids
charity Red Hot Organization.
The first volume in the download
set is sub-titled “Thunder” and it is by some distance the best, or most easily
digestible, portion of the release. From the perspective of a Dead sceptic (aka
your reviewer), it’s the volume which contains the least meandering, more
accessible material. With the exception of the exhausting near 17-minute
Terrapin Station (Suite)’ (by assorted and various). Highlights include
Courtney Barnett’s take on ‘New Speedway Boogie’, The National’s version of
‘Peggy-O’, and the collaboration between Ed Droste (of Grizzly Bear) and Binki
Shapiro on ‘Loser’. This volume also includes contributions by luminaries such
as The War on Drugs, Kurt Vile, Bonnie Prince Billy, Perfume Genuis, Sharon van
Etten, Mumford & Sons, Lee Ranaldo (of Sonic Youth), Wilco, and latter day
Grateful Dead touring band member Bruce Hornsby. Plus many others.
The second volume – subtitled
“Lightning” – was a real struggle for me, mainly on account of so many of the
songs being of the more rambling variety. Rambling, as in … on and on and on
and … seldom going anywhere particularly satisfying. Certainly this volume adds
weight to the old adage that sometimes less is more. The worst offenders here
being the work of Nightfall of Diamonds on the track of the same name, plus the
Tunde Adebimpe/Lee Ranaldo collab ‘Playing in the Band’. And while Marijuana
Deathsquads’ take on ‘Truckin’ is relatively brief by comparison, mercifully
brief even, it does tend to bring out all that is most unpalatable about the
musical excesses of the Grateful Dead. On the more positive side of the ledger,
the second volume features The National’s majestic take on ‘Morning Dew’, and
the rather funky Orchestra Baobab with ‘Franklin’s Tower’. Look out too for the
soulful contribution of Charles Bradley (and the Menahan Street Band) on
‘Cumberland Blues’.
Volume three, “Sunshine”, also
offers up something of a mixed bag, with the highs coming from This Is The Kit
on trad tune ‘Jack-A-Roe’, and from The Flaming Lips with ‘Dark Star’.
Relatively slim pickings. At the opposite end of the spectrum, again there’s a
couple of ten-minute-plus episodes I could well have done without, and I
thought Fucked Up’s take on ‘Cream Puff War’ was simply awful. Music befitting
the band’s rather unimaginative name. Somewhere in the
okay-but-not-overly-great category we find Real Estate with ‘Here Comes
Sunshine’, and New Zealand’s own Unknown Mortal Orchestra with ‘Shakedown
Street’.
So there it is. Warts and all.
Genuine variety from a wide range of bands and artists. Kudos to the Dessner
brothers and co-producer Josh Kaufman for bringing so many musicians and
diverse styles together in the name of a charity project. Any criticism (or
otherwise) of the album should not detract from that monumental effort. There’s
some great stuff here, but there’s also some very ordinary stuff, and a few
quite woeful tracks. It kind of goes with the territory. The very nature of a
project this expansive. There’s so much here it would be unrealistic to expect
to enjoy it all, and equally difficult not to find stuff you can enjoy. Even as
a non-Deadhead.
There’s no question that in the
annals of popular culture the Grateful Dead is a very important band. As much
for the era, or the ethos, that the music represents. I guess if you’re not a
fan of the Grateful Dead, and therefore unlikely to ever listen to the band’s
music, but want to learn a little bit about what all the fuss was about, what
helped to build the myth, then this is as good a place to start as any. Worth a
look, occasionally worth a listen.
I have to admit,
when I first heard the music of Courtney Barnett, I didn't quite get it. I
couldn't quite see the attraction, or grasp what it was everyone else seemed to
be raving about. And there is no question that an awful lot of people saw an
awful lot of something - if indie rock had an "It Girl" in 2015, it
was surely the Melbourne-based 28-year-old.
Then about halfway
through the year I heard 'Depreston', a track off her debut album, Sometimes I
Sit And Think, And Sometimes I Just Sit, and it all just instantly clicked ...
it was the simplicity of her kitchen-sink lyrics, and the immediate accessibility
of her girl-next-door DIY charm.
I was gutted that
a series of unavoidable events forced me to miss her November Wellington gig
(at Bodega) and - even worse - her Slow Boat Records in-store. Next time!
'Depreston' was a tune
I kept returning to, and it appeals as an ideal cut to showcase what you'll
find on Sometimes I Sit, an album which wound up going Top 5 in Oz, and Top 20
in the UK, the US, and New Zealand.
They say you
should always write about what you know, and it's a modus operandi that serves
Barnett well on this low key irony-fuelled slice-of-life journey into every day
suburban living ... Preston being an actual suburb, a short drive north of
Melbourne’s CBD.
(The Festive Dozen is a fairly randomly
selected year-end collection of clips featuring the tunes which featured most
prominently on the (generally pop-loving) iPod playlists of
everythingsgonegreen at various stages throughout 2015) ...
