“Yeah, she opened for Foo Fighters a couple years back. She was very good; she reminded me heavily of Bob Dylan.”
These are the words of a very beloved friend of mine, upon asking what I was up to this weekend. To say I didn’t expect those words, in more than one sense would be an understatement.
But the Bob Dylan comparison stuck out to me like the world’s sorest thumb. In a good way. To be compared to one of the greatest songwriters and poets of our time, is maybe the greatest acclaim one could achieve as a music artist. Unless you detest Bob Dylan. There is an audience out there.
You know who that audience was? The people who attended Newport Folk Festival 1965. The home of the “Electric Dylan” scandal, where the proclaimed “spokesman of a generation” performed with Electric Guitars, prompting loud audible boos from his audience of die-hard traditionalist folk fans.
Now, in comparison to what has developed since, Bob Dylan’s “Electric Music” is the equivalent of a coughing baby in today’s hydrogen bomb world of Heavy Metal, Punk, Hip-Hop, ambient and don’t even get me started on all the music born from Synthesisers and computers. Please.
The question that has always festered in my head ever since I first read about the Electric Dylan controversy is; what would the reaction have been if a different revolutionary was there? What if Jimi Hendrix’s political re-working of the USA’s ‘Star-Spangled Banner’ blasted through their tiny ears, what if Van Halen in his obscenely bright and definitely straight 80s outfits, thundered out his unique 2 handed style on a song like ‘Eruption’. What if the crowd’s very core was shaken up by the continuous glide guitars of My Bloody Valentine?
And what if a deadpan Aussie from Sydney rocked up with her electric guitar to sing songs about elevating mundane activities into profound philosophical meanings, and general anxieties in a time when the concept of “Mental Health” was but a sheer absurdity. Well, I can’t speak for the audience at that folk festival in 1965, but I can speak for the audience at the Aviva Studios in Manchester in 2026.
Courtney Barnett and her band, featuring Stella Mozgawa on drums, and Bones Sloane on Bass, rip their way in with ‘Stay In Your Lane’, the opener from Barnett’s latest Album “Creature Of Habit” which this tour is in promotion of, and boy is it some opening, the unmistakable bass, the crashing drums in the chorus, as Courtney frames a conversation with herself in an attempt to address her own internal struggles. Just a small, but effective microcosm of what’s to come in the eventual 23 song setlist.
Much of the setlist comprises of new songs from Creature Of Habit, but Barnett ensures there’s space for the classics that diehard fans are well-attuned to. “Avant Gardener” has a case for being Barnett’s most popular song, but is not as high-energy as you might expect, which for a song about Barnett experiencing an anaphylactic shock whilst gardening, is understandable. The guitar in-between verses and chorus feel like a sonic representation of that shock. And ‘Small Poppies’, showcases Barnett’s ability to go from the slow and reflective, to fast and confrontational in a flash, as this seven minute suite escalates in intensity and drive. Watching Courtney run amuck on the stage as she effortlessly plays her way through these songs is a sight to behold.
Courtney Barnett doesn’t have the “typical” appearance or aesthetic of an international rock star. She doesn’t don the vibrant outfits of the psychedelic rockers of the 60s. Equally, she doesn’t show up with a pair of black shades and headband doing her best Axl Rose impression. She rocks up looking like your local florist, ready to give you the most beautiful bouquet of flowers for your next date.
But instead of those flowers, Courtney Barnett straps on a guitar and proceeds to dance, strut and strum with the confidence of the hundreds of rockstars that have come before her. ‘I’m Not Your Mother, I’m Not Your Bitch’ may be under two minutes, but it is the thesis for Barnett’s rockstar qualities, the hefty guitar tones, the brief ten second solo that rips in its short time. Or ‘Elevator Operator’, a song with such a consistent impending determination to it I was wondering if the rest of the show would just be that one song. There’s an unmitigated joy about watching these songs performed by someone with a relatable identity attached to them.
However, these slack rock songs are supplementary to the more indie singer-songwriter affairs as Barnett grapples with many different facets and experiences of her life. The guitars on ‘Sugar Plum’ standout as having a much dreamier and more atmospheric tuning to them, ‘Wonder’ is a track infested with anxiety and general worries, something that Creature Of Habit as a record explores in great detail. And ‘Mantis’ reflects a desire to find meaning and direction during what had been a rocky period for Barnett. During the show the backdrop featured the same praying mantis from her latest album’s cover ominously looking over the set, some songs illuminated the Mantis in dark colours of red, blue, purple and green. It made me wonder if the Mantis would break free and start wreaking havoc, akin to the theatre scene in Peter Jackson’s King Kong film. I doubt a praying mantis could cause the same level of damage but one can imagine.
Once the anthemic ‘One Thing At A Time’ closed out, we were into the encore, the nest of the set. ‘Mostly Patient’ stands out as the only song with just Barnett, as Stella and Bones stayed behind to let Barnett perform this quaint song, once again showcasing another internal dialogue, focusing on the endeavour for personal growth. Stella and Bones return, but the tone is still relaxed on ‘Canned Tomatoes (Whole)’, until the instrumental second half, in which Barnett steals the spotlight. The resulting performance gave off the notion that Courtney Barnett had become possessed by the music, intertwining with her very soul.
Befittingly, we end off with two of the fiercest songs in Courtney Barnett’s catalogue. ‘Pedestrian At Best’ absolutely shreds, there’s no other way to describe it. The clashing drums and guitar that never relent, and Barnett’s performance that came across as if she was holding onto the last bit of performance left in her. And we wrap up with ‘Nobody Really Cares If You Don’t Go To The Party’, a song about Barnett expressing her comfortability within her own introverted qualities, that is a slight comedown from the last two songs, but is it really that much of a change for Barnett?
I can and never will be able to explain what made Bob Dylan so special to the people of the 60s. But I can explain what makes Courtney Barnett special to those inside the Aviva Studios, myself included. On top of a soundscape that ranges from rock excellence to quiet and honest reflection, Courtney Barnett can transform seemingly ordinary or unordinary experiences and create meaningful, relatable songs out of them.
You know what was a throwback to Bob Dylan’s time? Like those at Newport Folk Festival in 1965, I had a physical ticket for this gig! Which, in today’s day and age, is extremely rare. And unlike those who likely burnt their Newport tickets because Dylan dared to play electric guitar, I shall keep this Courtney Barnett ticket for as long as I am kicking about.
