Reviewed on Thursday May 28 (photo by Prudence Upton)
As his career’s gone on, Bill Callahan has reduced the expressive tone of his vocals. On his most recent effort (and the centre point of tonight’s setlist), 2013’s Dream River,Callahan adopts a reticent tone akin to spoken word. Yet in spite of straining the accentuating colour out of his baritone, Dream River contains some of this era’s most stirring lyrical songwriting. This was on display right from tonight’s opening number, ‘The Sing’, where lines such as “Strangers unknowingly keep me company” immediately brought the audience into Callahan’s world, albeit as said strangers.
Playing Dream River at a party is likely to garner scowls equivalent to elbowing a fellow commuter in the eye during rush hour. This is music designed for lone contemplation – a night in, nursing a bottle of wine, or sat still in the comfortable surrounds of the Sydney Opera House.
Several acts on this year’s Vivid lineup are very giving performers. The likes of Sufjan Stevens, The Preatures, TV On The Radio and even Morrissey offer something rich and immediate. Whereas to become absorbed in the Bill Callahan experience, our full attention was required. It wasn’t essential to take score of absolutely every word uttered or jazzy chord sequence sent out from his nylon string guitar. But the communicable emotions of Callahan’s songs tend to spring forth from little gaps in the unadorned exteriors.
There’s no doubt that some people had trouble connecting. A number of restless patrons frequently ducked out to the bar for a breather. And even those who stayed still could easily have been led astray by an evocative lyric, only to tune back in to the onstage noise, which now seemed a little bit mild. That said, it wasn’t all minimalist subtleties. Everyone perked up during the Australia-referencing polka ‘America!’ and the ironic humour of Smog’s ‘Dress Sexy At My Funeral’ was a real treat.
Throughout the show, Callahan and his three backing musicians were supported by the impressionist landscapes of painter Paul Ryan. For the most part, Ryan’s work featured a fairly muted palette. But occasionally a mountain rising through a misty dawn was juxtaposed with a squiggle of fluorescent yellow; or a skeletal kookaburra gained more character and bulk as one song progressed. These sorts of idiosyncrasies perfectly matched Callahan’s songs. Once you’re committed to hearing them, major impact stems from the smallest, yet most significant alterations.
Callahan’s lyrics have often been said to disclose human truths. But a line from one of tonight’s final songs, ‘Ride My Arrow’ offered a different point of view. “Life ain’t confidential,” he crooned, “No, no, no it’s not / It isn’t and it ain’t confidential.”It’s that simple. What Callahan gave us was feelings we couldn’t deny. And when enveloped in feeling – feeling alive, in touch with mortality, united by it – the objective truth was no longer of much concern.
