Posts Tagged ‘ jacob s harris ’

The Gin Club @ The Old Museum

November 11th, 2011

, , , ,  | no comments

Date: December 13, 2008
Venue: The Old Museum, Brisbane
Acts: The Gin Club, Clinkerfield, The Aerial Maps, Texas Tea, Jacob S Harris

Built in 1891 to enable the city of Brisbane to host a world exposition, but named after it’s decades-long stint as the city’s museum, The Old Museum tonight plays host to The Gin Club’s Christmas bash. The Ginners have assembled no less than four support slots, and an early start means I miss Jacob S Harris, who performed so well at the Globe just last month.

In fact, I only just catch the start of the Texas Tea set. The local duo are in fine fettle, even if the rarified concert hall atmosphere lends an irritating touch of reverb to their mellow country tune. Many of the tunes are drawn from Junkship, which is all to the good. I’m a little disappointed that they skip the dirge-like Ferry Song, but a remarkable rendition of the Ronny Shannon-penned, Aretha Franklin-performed Never Loved A Man more than makes up for it. Read more

Jacob S Harris @ The Powerhouse

June 15th, 2009

,  | no comments

Date: May 24, 2009
Venue: The Powerhouse, Brisbane
Acts: Jacob S Harris, Timothy Carroll

I’ve seen local troubadour Timothy Carroll several times now, and on each occasion he’s impressed me more and more with poignant melodies marked by gentle, lingering acoustic guitar and a world-weary yet, somehow, simultaneously reassuring voice. Today proves a kind of watershed moment. The relaxing Sunday-afternoon vibe of the Brisbane Powerhouse amplifies Carroll’s burgeoning songcraft tenfold and more, flipping some internal switch that transforms me from interested observer into raving aficionado.

Along the way I also begin to realise what a stellar list of fellow musicians he’s assembled to help him out. Kate Jacobsen and Corinna Scanlon each step up to duet on Something Else and Sad Man respectively.  Doch’s Rebecca Craner cameos several times with warbling gypsy clarinet. It’s wonderful.

I hadn’t realised Jacob S Harris had recently shifted south to try and get more exposure to his alt-country sound, and a sharp set proves that our loss  is definitely to Melbourne’s gain. In itself, there’s something riveting in simply watching his long, expressive fingers flicker back and forth across the strings of his guitar and, later, mandolin. His deep haunting tones, playing off that wonderful fingerwork on the guitar, and hitched to the  mournful background drone of Jane Elliott’s cello makes closing tune Mountains Of Clover ineffably sad.