Courtney Barnett
– GORILLA, MANCHESTER –
There must be a time portal at the door of Gorilla: We’ve arrived early to check out the support bands, but somehow between the doorman and the cloakroom we’ve been transported to Greenwich village in 1961. Fraser A Gorman is a man who wears his Dylan influences on his sleeves, in his curly locks, and at the end of his Chelsea boots. It’s a derivative look, and performing solo with just a rudimentary acoustic guitar to accompany him, he initially cuts a slightly lost figure in front of the sparse crowd early doors. But while Americana styled singer songwriters are ten-a-penny, Gorman may yet find a place in a crowded market. He transpires to be an engaging and strangely compelling character with an easy vocal style sitting somewhere between Jeff Tweedy and Jonathon Richman. And the Melbourne local is clearly a gentleman, being in possession of a harmonica but electing, thankfully, to use it sparingly. A listen to new single ‘Book of Love’ shows his song-writing qualities at their best, and he will be a different proposition live with a backing band around him to flesh out his story telling.
Courtney Barnett
She panders to no-ones expectations and has found a niche marrying sharp observation and a wry perspective to a simple but classy alt-rock formula on record. In the flesh, the self-assurance of both Courtney and her band was a surprise to me. I had in honesty been expecting awkward poetess/eccentric, thinking she was an Australian Annie Hardy and probably too “nice “ to meet the expectations of a wider audience and to carry off a live show: She is however an excitable and charming person, clearly enjoying herself, and it’s endearing to see an artist offering smiles and thumbs up to the crowd between songs.
What I hadn’t anticipated most of all is that the girl can rock. We are witness to a grunge rock trio, and Barnett and her band show a fine level of dexterity. They are also tighter than some earlier viewings suggested, due no doubt to a demanding touring schedule. The cynical may observe that the genre they trade in is predictable and many of the guitar lines familiar, but the strength of Barnett is in her lyrical, stream of consciousness storytelling, and this more than compensates for any formulaic musical settings. The subtlety of her wordplay is often lost in the live presentation, but her vocal style is still unique and distinct enough to carry through, stretched taut across a compact, understated musical backdrop. Her band set up also suits her very well, being able to support fragile ballads like ‘Depreston’, an unerringly emotive and beautifully observed tale of househunting, but also to roll out the dirt on Lance Jr, and closer ‘Pedestrian at Best’, a better slacker anthem than anything Evan Dando ever wrote.
