This week has been one of auspicious dates, suspicious clouds, tremendous plans and wondrous songwriters.
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I finally saw Mr Conor Oberst in Bright Eyes form at The Hifi last Thursday eve. Although (not surprisingly) a little disappointing in festival format at Harvest on Saturday, he delivered a pretty stellar 2.5 hour set that got all the indie kids nostalgic for 2004. Some new, some old, the time passed all-too-quickly but all left with a sense that you had seen someone who had a proper grip of the poetry of songwriting. Yes, I even enjoyed the new songs! Believe it friends! The reoccurring themes of death, self-deprecation, love and loneliness were present as ever, but he somehow still knows how to captivate and keep the interest of a packed house.
Although, as a suave-hatted harvest festival attendee observed, where does one go once you are too successful to authentically write the angsty songs that ironically made you famous?
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This evening saw a different crowd and a completely different venue, but still featured an acclaimed songwriter and the theme of death and ressurection.
Nick Drake, one of the many incredible musicians who never saw fame within their lifetime, has produced 3 of the most influential and sweetly heart-haunting records to ever come out of the English folk scene. No, England. His songs endure as classics, and I will count them among my favourites forevermore. And so, how fortunate that I had the pleasure of seeing THESE artists present his music in the Melbourne Recital Centre. It actually made me cry a little when they played Rider on the Wheel (shut it, I am a sissy, ok?).
The take home points are:
1. Listen to Nick Drake. Now. Go.
2. Look up an amazing lady named Krystle Warren.
3. Buy yourself Luluc's new album. I did, and it is beautiful. (On a side note, I saw them whilst on travels to NYC... oh the chances!)
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I think that is all I have time for. The internet is running low, and sleep should come eventually.
PS. The Flaming Lips. That is all.
