Live in Vienna, 30th of
January 2006
I’ve seen some things. Sometimes
I do like concerts. Usually it is evenings with only a small audience,
weekdays mostly, and a band that is able to spark the hearts and minds of
the people around them with warmth, love and energy. I remember music as
diverse as The Boom, Transmissionary Six, William Elliot
Whitmore, Origami
Replika and Phobia as highlights from the last decades. Of course, not so
many people around helps a lot with my usual complaints about concerts
(lung-cancer addicts, dancing fools, communication specialists, etc.) and
my general reluctance to deal with those kinds. But evenings like these
suddenly make it all seem worthwhile. And even though it is a common place
of the worst kind, it is the live performance that at times gives the
music all its meaning and sense. When everything seems to fall into place
like magic just because you are able to watch the faces and movements of
those who are making the music. Like seeing Marc Pilley being carried away
by his own songs on stage, putting all the emotionality and fever he can
manage into his melodies, giving it a little twist move when things speed
up or thumping his foot to give cue for his fellow musicians. Makes me buy
all the CDs available at the little table in the back of the place, even
if they are just CDR-copies and the full album goes for 15 Euros, which
might be a little tough, even if it has a colour copy as a cover. Well,
since there is no other way to get ahold of these, I don’ care. I
wouldn’t have either way, not after being doused with beautiful songs
for over an hour by Hobotalk. I wondered how there could be so much soul
in a songwriter from Scottland (later down I guess a little Irish
songwriter with lots of soul will be mentioned). So there is no second
thought about adding a little something to the gas money.
Date with grace. Rarely will you
see four musicians still in their early or mid twenties, playing together
so tightly while letting things loose as much as possible. My first
impression was those of young man trying to look way older than they
really are. Dressed up in a remarkable working class come hippie – style
where bandana meets working boots and long hair meets rolled up sleeves,
they paint the picture of earthbound and honest musicians, that see their
vision as work and vice versa. Except for the accent they wouldn’t raise
an eyebrow in the audience of a Chicago rock club nor at an Alabama rock
festival. Musically, it is mainly either Marc Pilley giving the cue on a
little, worn out acoustic guitar that he needed to tune up after every
single song, or the keyboard player Alie Petrie, hiding his young face
underneath a outgrowing beard and hair falling into his face, starting off
into a line of notes on his e-piano, which is either tuned to piano, organ
or e-piano. Somehow he managed to play all the bass parts as well as fill
in fine chords and appreggios with the cother hand. Then there is a
drummer, who reduces to the maximum and a guitarist who is just as
reluctant to play anything that is unnecessary or could be too much as the
rest of the band. So he will stay with some well-penned and fitting licks
here and there, while supporting the song. And after some time the band
will start rolling in that warm and laid back groove that comes from this
basic country-rock instrumentation and from a bunch of musicians that have
no intention at all to play themselves into the foreground, who’d rather
do less than more and whose main intention is to contribute to the songs.
If anybody remembers the first album by Little Feat and how great that
was, here is another clue to what a lack of ego can do good to a song.
Hobotalk are also able to rip into a great swamp-blues riff or into a one
half circus-show, one half honky-tonk melody using that old time
ba-thump-piano line, but with them that song grows into something way too
big for this small place or only four people on stage.
Melody got your name. Finally, say about Marc Pilley’s voice what you will, his major range
goes from a warm, deep and full talk-singing he uses to indicate intimacy
and counterpoints (“Everybody feels this now and then / I just never
said when”) to that indicative nasal howl he lets go whenever emotional
peaks are reached (“I don’t wanna die by the roaaadside” – if you
heard their last album “notes on sunset” and remember one line, this
is it by all means.) And these are also the points where in a live show
everything is decided. Recording in a studio you might cheat on the
emotionality, the effect, the cues, the ability to play and mostly of all
the ability to carry over the main feeling of a song, but live you either
get it or you don’t. Fusing a song with life and energy doesn’t mean
playing it technically as closely as possible to the recorded version, far
from it. It means getting up there and playing and singing it as if you
really mean it, or better yet, really meaning it. If an audience, be it as
small as it ever will be, feels your willingness to give it all, they will
react in a positive, even euphoric way. At least if you play the Chelsea
in Vienna on a weekday night. Stay away from shopping mall plazas as much
as possible. In other words as Pilley said to his bandmates on stage:
“You guys play good.”
1st album "beauty in madness" and 2nd album "notes on sunset"
Beauty in Madness. Two albums and
various tour- and show-only EPs have given Marc Pilley the opportunity to
sharpen and hone his songwriting to a high level. Everybody seems to
mention Neil Young at first listening, mainly because of some of the
guitar-lines and melodies are too obviously ripped off “Harvest” and
that is the record that everybody knows and liked by Neil Young. Anyone
with a heart, at least. Seeing them play live I was counting off names in
my head, from Tom Waits to Van Morrisson, until the right one hit me: Tim
Buckley which, as a comparison, is really good. First off all because he
is a legend, both for his uniqueness, originality and abilities. Second,
because amidst all those kids trying to dwell in the melancholia and
depression of Nick Drake, it is good to see some people enjoying their own
songs, even if the matters they deal with are sadness and loss in all its
varieties from desperation to anger, and the melodies and arrangements are
all about loneliness, death and decay. The obvious fun and joy these guys
have when playing their songs really sets them apart from the current crew
of songwriters, who by dwelling in their own introvertedness and lyrical
despair forget that life should be joyous. And even if there is a lot of
shit in it, love and fun are the only things worth going on for. If you
ain’t doing it for the love of it, then maybe you should think about
changing. On the other hand, in relation to longevity, I guess everybody
would prefer the comparison to Neil Young. “Notes on Sunset”, which
was released by Glitterhouse, embraced warm welcome and fabulous reviews
from almost everyone. Well, their first album, “Beauty in Madness”,
was mentioned as one of the Top 20 records of 2000 by The Times.
Everything I was and ain’t now. The main difference from live to recorded Hobotalk is the amount of intimacy which is higher on the records, giving the songs a softer and more pop-like edge. More of Cat Stevens, less Tim Buckley all of a sudden. “Notes on Sunset” nevertheless has the compactness and complexity of a fully comprehended, planned and executed storybook or the great American (or rather Scottish) novel. Maybe it was these mixture or opposition of grand size and small details, where for instance issues change from something as minute as a detail of yesterday to something as all encompassing as death within a few lines, that really got to me. Or it was the encompassing humanity, both fragile and stubborn, radiating from the songs, the lyrics and the melodies. There has to be a reason I listened to this record every day for a month. Which made me go to the concert with high expectations and fortunately, I wasn’t disappointed. Not at all. And I guess next time around there will be a lot more people, because in my experiences, shows like these find their way around, because after all substance is more important than style and the heart will always win over the business. Music like this won’t be cornered in any place of the world, wherever it may come from. It is bound to conquer the biggest kingdom of them all, the heart of the listener.
Georg Cracked (January 31st 2006)
