On the face of it I was attending a gig with three performers armed with guitars and heartfelt avowals. As I bounded up to familiar musos’ in the Wine Vaults I didn’t envisage leaving as a friendly neighbourhood critter. This was due to the current Zeitgeists of the singer songwriter ilk like Damian Rice creating intense anthems (conducive to shying from your own shadow). This left me with a notion of guitar wielding troubadours like Cash being replaced by a lethargic mainstream where one man and a guitar became a limited framework- until Cara appeared.
Astonishingly the perception of women being unable to make the guitar speak is still abundant. Ms Jeffries not only expels it, she emasculates Youtube virtuosos in exposing their extra strings and hurricane of notes (showing their gimmicks to be like taking paracetamol for the perforated eardrums that their music has left me with). Moreover during her patented anthem ‘love hangover’ she balances musicianship with soulful melody. She offers a self-deprecating intro about it raising a generic theme of feeling disconsolate about love. The soaring melody and disjointed groove alleviates the intensity of angst filled lyrics. Nevertheless these lyrics encapsulate and boldly resonate a universal feeling that is often worsened by people not addressing it. The whimsical nature of Cara’s tunes heighten the experience as I wonder about this gig going on a rumba or polka tangent. My guitar aspirations are rallied up as she pushes herself out of her comfort zone to the point of quickly brushing past any tempo ramps or random notes. It takes determination to not be precious about your instrument to the point of jeopardizing intricate tunes. Yet when she breaks into some percussive guitar (potentially the most hazardous) it feels restrained with the beats not detracting from her rich chords. It’s interesting hearing the imaginative jazzy chords juxtaposed with her lyrics of crippling uncertainty in your twenties. The mundane hasn’t been elevated this much since Horace first coated banal topics in ethereal hyperbole. After a day of tackling humdrum issues of student debt and sporadic work it assuages my mind to hear her genuine declarations of pursuing her passions. The rapid fluctuations keep me guessing, as it reminds me to not rely on 4/4 in my own music.
Sadly it was too esoteric for her to be snapped up by record companies when she last went out on a limb. From a marketing angle it would have been linked with candid female singer songwriters like Kate Nash. Yet it transcends the genre and the record companies vision of a homogenous cash cow. It may possess the same accent but it lacks the vacuous Nash style male barrages where the C word is squawked. Moreover she exudes twice the musicianship through a beguiling musical palette.
This leads me to the next performer Jemima as she also no stranger to the slow burning tunes that etch into your mind. From the outset she sustains the attention of an audience of musicians through her unique chord and tuning repertoire. It contains an element of Nick Drake in the way that she thinks outside the box with idiosyncratic melody and chord development. Unlike Cara she doesn’t have the funk to detract from tormented topics so after about five songs it feels perilous for a fragile mind. Until the dynamics come alive in a track that contains the soaring vocals reminiscent of ‘Creep’ that leaves the audience speechless. Her acrobatic vocal range and Buckley style vibrato is enthralling for the crowd as she creates a booming, dour tone in ‘Bird’. With similarly soaring melodies to Cara that evoke real intensity she differs in not singing with a London accent as hers is more of a neutral, annunciated style. Both artists play like there are no limitations to the guitar and voice format in not being tentative or monotonous with their instruments.
The last performer to hit the stage is Simon Allen. After a subdued hello he hurtles into a stirring ‘Jolene’ rendition. The vulnerability that this man evokes in his voice is reminiscent of tormented performers like Ryan Adams. As the subtle dynamics to his voice resonates through my whole body. He illustrates a common denominator of self-deprecation with the previous performers as he makes excuses for what in reality is a captivating flare. This artist shares another trait with Adams in that he reacts to crowd feedback as someone cackles after he makes a jibe at himself. His own material lacks the creativity and imagination of the previous artists. His declaration of experiencing family bliss alludes to a possible factor. Moreover the previous performers are younger musicians toiling nomadic jobs and completely striving alone. They are also battling with the gender prejudices of women being the lead instrumentalist and vocalist who translate this in their pioneering anthems. There’s hope for Jemima and Cara to pervade the mainstream, as they would bring the guitar and voice format back to a time where it could command the attention of arena fans in the vein of Michael Hedges. Personally I’m feeling desperation for them to prevail as I turn on the radio to the haughty word decay of ‘Chipmunk’.
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