Having spent the weekend in a frenzy of folk music at the FolkWorld Fairbridge Festival, I was not quite ready to let the atmosphere go. So I was thrilled to have a little piece of folk waiting for me back in Perth. If I shut my eyes I could imagine Mojos was a little bar in the bush under the stars.
Tinpan Orange has a well developed style. It is sure
of itself. Even though their songs are so thematically diverse –
ranging from sweet and cute to intense and haunting – I feel that
throughout this range every song has a distinct ubiquitous ‘Tinpan’ feel
to it. I can taste it. It’s … mmmm… cinnamon sweet with a citrus kick
of intensity. I appreciate anything that can warm my heart and curl my
toes and all in one evening. Tinpan leaves me feeling quite drunk on
atmosphere.
As a front woman Emily Lubitz is glorious. She is
strong, confident and commanding in her vocals. Throughout the evening
she took us on a vertiginous and dynamic range of emotion with sweet
uplifting tones and then moments of deep operatic quavering (I think I
may have made that word up). Her voice has a tonal quality to it that is
unique and intriguing without being so bizarre as to convince me that
she’s ‘putting it on’. And that is very important to me in music –
organic and natural.
Her stage presence is quite charming – but in a slightly haughty way.
She has these quirky gesticulations and movements – her left hand
extended and her right hand shaking limply. She’ll raise her arm in a
windmill and let her body fall limp to the thudding beat of Harry Angus’ keys. She’ll twirl around the stage and imitate Alex Burkoy’s
violin, her hair falling across her face. I can’t tell if these
movements are uncontrollable, visceral responses to the intensity of her
lyrics, or if they are calculated, prepared and rehearsed. I get a very
strong sense that she is a “performer”. She is putting on a show – but
that being said it is an enchanting show and I am captivated. I think
that is an important element of the ubiquitous Tinpan style that is so
addictive.
Guitarist and vocalist Jesse Lubitz is everything I want a performer
to be – without any element of actual ‘performance’. His voice is warm
and sweet, his posture is comfortable and he seems so accessible and
unassuming.
Harry bounces around in the background on keys in a mustard coloured jacket. This man’s falsetto harmonies make me quiver.
Alex, a beautiful bear of a man with wayward curly hair dabbles with
fiddle, mandolin and guitar. He gently demands my attention and I find I
can’t look away. I always find myself completely mesmerised by the way
this man’s subtle movements.
The boys backup harmonies were impeccable. Harry’s ringing falsetto,
eyes clenched shut, Alex’s deep rumbling bass. It’s all so well layered,
so well pieced together.
Mama Kin and Loren Kate joined the band for Lonely People – which Emily called an anthem for truck drivers. It was an ethereal but cathartic cacophony of chanting voices.
What stood out for me about Tinpan was how I can see and feel them
working together. They seem to be so well cultivated, to know each other
musically so well, that together they create this united force. What I
saw was five essential parts of one creature. The whole band grows,
swells, breathes together – and this… force… clutches at the audience
and we are completely suspended, breathless for a golden, vulnerable
moment.
I found myself completely usurped by the swelling of their united
sound, their haunting harmonies and their captivating presence.
Words by Fiona Hugo
This review was published at http://colosoul.com.au/colosoul_2.0/?p=19047
No comments:
Post a Comment