Posts Tagged ‘ live spark ’

Live Spark @ Brisbane Powerhouse

Date: June 28, 2009
Venue: Brisbane Powerhouse
Acts: Strange Attractors, Drawn From Bees

The bill for this gig probably ought to have been reversed. Strange Attractors who? Maybe I’m just not with the cool kids clique these days. The plus is that their straight-from-the-sixties Stones-inspired sound that’s full of a ridiculous number of male harmonies proves quite arresting.  It’s good fun. The minus — a minus primarily for the band, rather than the listener — is the back-of-the-mind feeling that it’s all a bit niche. And in terms of stagecraft, they’re virtually sessile.

Even on the spacious Turbine Room stage, they manage to looked awkward and cramped up. It makes composition difficult, and a weird dim spot in centre stage doesn’t make it any easier to get usable shots.

Drawn From Bees, on the other hand, prove far easier to shoot — a fact aided by familiarity and better lighting.  I’m also enjoying these guys more and more — both live and on album.  Waiting For The End, in particular, is an exceptional tune — its psychedelic melancholy could have come straight from the Vietnam War era.

Live Spark @ Brisbane Powerhouse

Date: May 24, 2009
Venue: Brisbane Powerhouse
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.