Duke Very Special.
Here's yet another overenthusiastic review...
Thomas Truax / Duke Special
Lisburn Island Arts Centre
August 16, 2006
Thomas Truax is, in the best of ways, a total fruitloop. Part Tom Waits, part Emo Philips, he sings funny, dark songs about a crazed butterfly hunter and a woman of ill repute whose shimmering clothes and scarlet lipstick made her look like a giant, walking fish. Truax’s rhythm section is a homemade instrument that looks like a mini ferris wheel which clanks and booms, a battery-operated fan, and anything else that comes to hand. More performance art than musical performance, he unplugs his guitar and gallivants about the theatre, leaping up the stairs and down the aisles. Some of the audience are visibly uncomfortable with this, which makes it all the more entertaining.
Besides, Truax’s weirdness is the perfect aperitif for the music hall eccentricities of Duke Special, who, replete with gramophones, piano and Theremin, is unlike any other artist currently on the scene. After slogging it out for around a decade under various aliases, it is heartwarming to see that he has finally made it, and the fact that tonight’s gig is completely sold-out should indicate just how popular this Belfast artist has become. The feeling, it seems, is mutual. “We’ve recently played some dirty little grips,” the Duke says, before commenting on how welcome it is to play in such a spacious venue. Following that, he plays his heart out. We get a breathtaking solo version of ‘Closer To The Start’, an orchestral reading of ‘Wake Up Scarlett’ that recalls ELO at their peak, and a smattering of new songs from the forthcoming album, each set adrift on waves of melody, close harmony and poetic lyrics rare in modern pop. Lou Barlow once sang that it’s all a matter of soul and fire, and Duke Special has both of these in spades.
Lisburn Island Arts Centre
August 16, 2006
Thomas Truax is, in the best of ways, a total fruitloop. Part Tom Waits, part Emo Philips, he sings funny, dark songs about a crazed butterfly hunter and a woman of ill repute whose shimmering clothes and scarlet lipstick made her look like a giant, walking fish. Truax’s rhythm section is a homemade instrument that looks like a mini ferris wheel which clanks and booms, a battery-operated fan, and anything else that comes to hand. More performance art than musical performance, he unplugs his guitar and gallivants about the theatre, leaping up the stairs and down the aisles. Some of the audience are visibly uncomfortable with this, which makes it all the more entertaining.
Besides, Truax’s weirdness is the perfect aperitif for the music hall eccentricities of Duke Special, who, replete with gramophones, piano and Theremin, is unlike any other artist currently on the scene. After slogging it out for around a decade under various aliases, it is heartwarming to see that he has finally made it, and the fact that tonight’s gig is completely sold-out should indicate just how popular this Belfast artist has become. The feeling, it seems, is mutual. “We’ve recently played some dirty little grips,” the Duke says, before commenting on how welcome it is to play in such a spacious venue. Following that, he plays his heart out. We get a breathtaking solo version of ‘Closer To The Start’, an orchestral reading of ‘Wake Up Scarlett’ that recalls ELO at their peak, and a smattering of new songs from the forthcoming album, each set adrift on waves of melody, close harmony and poetic lyrics rare in modern pop. Lou Barlow once sang that it’s all a matter of soul and fire, and Duke Special has both of these in spades.
posted by dr. ross thompson @ 11:02 PM
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