Reviewed on Saturday July 4
I had always enjoyed what I’d heard from Marlon Williams in the past, and when interviewing him once for this very magazine, he seemed like an easygoing guy. But the discrepancy between a catalogue of songs that see him swing from open-prairie crooning to church-storming bravado, and the affable, unassuming gent I met for coffee, seemed like a weird gulf. Reconciling the music to the man seemed an act of wizardry more suited to a John Landis film, yet Saturday night saw the reveal of one of the most riveting performances I suspect I’ll see in some time.
Opening, we had the incredible wordsmith who is Laura Jean. Alternating between guitar and autoharp, her tone is that of Nick Drake by way of Bill Callahan, but, you know, sung by a woman with a lovely voice. Standout lyric? “I smiled at a man I thought might be an angel / But it was probably the pethidine”.
When Williams does appear, he launches straight into a cover of Simon & Garfunkel’s ‘For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her’. It’s a great choice, given it allows him to showcase just how delicate his voice can be before soaring off to stunning heights once the band emerges (doesn’t hurt that it’s also a freakin’ amazing song). Once they do join him, we’re treated to ‘Silent Passage’, and it’s a testament to Williams’ stagecraft that he works these songs with such ease, yet never seems as though he’s simply going through the motions.
‘Strange Things’ is the first song that really demonstrates not only the band’s musical prowess, but Williams’ concerns as a lyricist. His voice is wonderfully funereal at times, conjuring as it does vast and threatening landscapes: “The day that Lucy died was the hottest of the summer / Her family all stood around her sweating / When she expired they all went back to the city / I’ve never seen a living soul again”. Happy-go-lucky stuff, you know.
Sure, maybe not every song was outstanding – some were just good – but particular props have to go to his choice of covers. From the opening number to the fucking blistering version of Johnny Dowd’s ‘First There Was’, to closing hullabaloo ‘Time Of The Season’, it was a night so wildly entertaining that you lament any poor act who is going to have to follow this. Captivating stuff.
