Poppalina

Living legend, live

A Kapinny post

Apart from this sentence, this post should be a duck-free zone. I think.

One of the benefits of living in or near to Melbourne, is that you can go and see this man appear live, quite frequently. I reckon when I lived there I would have averaged at least three or four times a year, for decades. Last night he performed at one of his very rare Sydney gigs, and I realised how much I'd been missing it, living here.



Chris Wilson is a legendary blues singer, songwriter and harp player, who is dearly loved by those of us in the know. His gorgeous voice is huge enough to plaster you to the back wall, and his harp playing is simply awesome. I've never understood why he's not massively world famous, like some of the blues greats in the US, but there you go. He doesn't tour there, because he has a family and a life in Australia, and he's not the world's best self-promoter; something to which Shula could testify. (She has been known to share the stage with him from time to time. They also share his fabulous wife, but not in a weird way.)

Last night, among several other outrageously talented musicians in the band, was the lovely Sweet Felicia, who was celebrating her birthday. She plays a mean bass and belts out a song like nobody's business. Happy Birthday Sweet Felicia!

I've always said there's no such thing as a bad Chris Wilson gig, and I've never been proved wrong. But last night I decided that if you were forced at gunpoint to rank one gig as better or worse than another, the only thing that would make a difference (other than personal song choice preferences) would be how inspired, or not, his between-song-patter was. Last night, his dry, laconic style of humour was in fine form: the hecklers-who'd-had-a-little-too-much-to-drink were loving it. And copping it.

Funnily enough, I am related to both Chris and Sweet Felicia by dog.

Thanks, Chris, for a top night out!

 

 

 

Guerrilla-edited by Shula. Some OS readers may not familiar with our National Treasure,

and we wouldn't want them missing out....

Enjoy.

Goldfrapp love

A Kapinny post

Being a lucky birthday girl last month, I had tickets to see Goldfrapp last night at Sydney's Luna Park (thanks to my clever husband). You have to love a band that takes dressing up as seriously as it takes its (seriously good) music. I want to be Alison Goldfrapp. Here's my favourite image of her, from the 2006 Supernature album. Imagine making such a fabulous thing as those peacock tail shorts. (I won't ask you to imagine wearing them.)

So last night she was wearing a sparkly, shaggy, black cape/poncho thing that made her look like a short, black Big Bird with curly blonde hair. It was more fabulous than it sounds.

Under that was a pair of sparkly black legging/platform boots that, it turned out, go all the way up, jumpsuit style. It made me wonder what it was like to put on: do the platform boots dangle off your feet until you're all the way in?

For the encores, she swapped the cape for a wispy, wired silk organza top that gave her an angel wing silhouette, followed by a long-haired jacket, with the hair shaded from pale pink down to bright red. The first encore was a note-perfect 'Utopia', from Felt Mountain (2000): no mean feat, considering the previous hour's robust singing, with its operatic soprano-style beginning.

Totally gorgeous.

And for those of you who couldn't be there....

You missed a Great Night, but here are some photos, courtesy of the ubiquitous Tim Chuma.

Sarah

The Band

  The Singers

 The Hornbags

 Andy Baylor

Chris Wilson

The Dancers

  The Audience

More photos on Tim's site.

Wahine

My best friend, Sarah, launches her new album, Wahine, tomorrow night.

8pm, St Kilda Bowling Club, Melbourne.

Listen here.

Buy it here.

But it's always more fun live. And I'll be there, singing backup with Susannah Espie.

I'll be as sober as a bloody judge, I promise.

Because, as you may or may not recall, alcohol shall pass my lips nevermore.

The Easter Bunny Cameth

I had nothing planned for Easter Sunday. I was thinking maybe a day in bed with a book was a Good Idea.

Until the skies opened and rained gifts on me

In the form of free tickets to an evening of live entertainment. Shows so irresistable that I was obliged to drag my arse into the shower and actually put my face on.

First up, excellent seats at the Atheneum to see the Kransky Sisters, thanks to Marjorie and Annie. Only an idiot would pass this up. I sat amongst total strangers, and we laughed so loud and long together that by the end of the show we were all best friends. God help me, these women are funny.

And, as if that wasn't enough, I was also given tickets to Mavis Staples, one of my favourite singers in the Universe, thank you Judi and Ian.

You can feel the love just by being in the same room as Mavis. Or I could, anyway. The passive aggressive who wanted me to move somewhere else and pushed me in the back so hard and insistently that I had to turn around and get in her face didn't seem to be feeling it at all, and the people throwing ice at Susannah's head for being tall seemed to missing out on the love as well. How people could be this ugly in the presence of one of the greatest gospel singers of all time is beyond me.

But we rose above it, treating the Love Killers with all the disdain that they deserved, ignorant fools that they are, and had a Great Time.

As Mavis would say, "Happy Easter, y'all".

Tonchi at The Retreat

Tomorrow night at the Retreat, next to Brunswick Mechanics Institute.

I'll be there.

I might even sing. You never know. That moon's still pretty full.

It's Too Darn Hot

Actually, it cooled down overnight, and we're all walking and talking again, but how hot was it yesterday in Melbourne?

A whopping 42 degrees celsius (that's 108, for you imperialists). The hottest December day for 50 years, although broken records are no longer impressing anybody. We've broken more records in the last 3 months, weather-wise, than we've had hot dinners. If I recall correctly, we had the coldest November day in living memory only a few weeks ago. It was hailing. Snowing, in the outer suburbs. We don't do snow here, as a rule.

What's sending us all batty is the fluctuation. Melbourne is legendary for erratic weather at the best of times, but lately it's been seriously showing off. And it's sending people completely nuts. Add to that the most awful bushfires to the north-east, which has left the city looking remarkably like Bombay on a bad day, throw in the usual Christmas madness, and you've got one whacked out city.

So what did we do on the hottest December day in 50 years? Well, we thought it might be hilariously funny to cross town and do a gig. Outdoors. That we were the only ones actually at, given that anyone who had the choice was sitting at home with the air-conditioner blasting, or hanging out by the water.

There was a breeze, but it was coming straight off the outdoor dunny directly behind us, hence the grim expressions. Ahh, the glamour of public life.

Although Felicia's gorgeous red shoes cheered me up. Mmmmm....red.....shoes.

And I'll take any opportunity to hang out with the Big Bear of Blues, Chris Wilson (aka Godfather of Mym), and I should post this photo, as it's quite a good one, and he spent the best part of his time heckling Tim for taking unflattering photos. One nice thing about having no audience is that you really are free to talk amongst yourselves. And bitch about how hot it is. And say rude things. And then bitch some more about how hot it is.

His Icon of Oz Rock mantle was slipping a little in the heat. But it was most awfully hot. Hot enough to make even the Most Patient of Bears humphy.

Photos courtesy of Tim Chuma.

Bilyana

No posts for a few days.

We're off.

We're donning our best tie-dye, abandoning the shoes, braiding our hair, and driving The Storm north.

To Bilyana Festival of Folk Rhythm & Life.

But forget about trying to follow us. Tickets sold out centuries ago. We'll take pics and collect music and bore you guys to death with a big slide night when we get back.

See you next week, feeling all eco-friendly and blissed.   

xo

The Junes

The Junes, originally uploaded by poppalina.

Sarah Carroll, Gleny Rae Virus, Susannah Espie.

This band doesn't get to play often, as they live all over the country (and this is Australia, so that's really saying something).

So when they do, anybody who can makes a beeline for their gigs.

Like me....

They're rude, crude, and uncalled for, but they sing like angels.

(Junes @ The Retreat, courtesy of the ever-obliging Tim Chuma)

Fight n' Flight

Image courtesy of Jo Bell at brispop.com

One of the pleasures of music festivals is that you are exposed to music you might otherwise not have heard.

Better still, given the relaxed, recreational festival atmosphere, you might even become friends as well as admirers of said musicians.

One of our finest examples of this is Jackie Marshall.

Her music is innovative, sassy, brave, unsentimental, funny, catchy, and seriously original.

She's also sexy, beautiful, and immense fun to hang out with.

And, she embroiders, which bonded me to her for life:

Her new album, Fight n' Flight, has been on our stereo since we got home from Nymagee.

(photo courtesy of Jackie Marshall)

And it sounds like this: 

Download kindvgirl.mp3 1036 kb

More music available for listening and gig dates here

Jackie plays the Retreat Hotel in Brunswick on the 29th October with Sarah Carroll.

Support Australian music and buy her album here

and vist her website here