Passing The Workers Club this Sunday, you’d hardly have a clue that just past the venue’s main bar, and through to the back room, Catherine Traicos is performing a cozy show.
The venue is the source of many music gigs, but is rarely as seemingly complementary and well matched as it is today’s show. Everything balances with Traicos’ performance: peaceful, calm and intimate.
As usual, tea lights are placed throughout the chipboard wall shelves, and behind the bar; the light fittings are suitably dimmed to match. A small window, usually locked for the evening shows, is open – allowing for limited natural light to enter the room.
With its barnlike quality, some audience members sit with their children comfortably on the floor. Others choose to pull up a fold-out chair or simply stand, gazing at our performer.
Catherine Traicos, with her sweet and innocent disposition, allows her hair to fall below her shoulders, in a beautifully conservative dress. Between songs she speaks informally to the small crowd, ranging from making an endearing and funny joke about banjos, to discussing the cathartic process of producing and performing her songs.
Even addressing the meaning behind a few of her songs, many depicting her self-destructive personality within relationships.
Her music is slow, peaceful, and simple, but also poignant and beautiful as she wraps sweet tunes around somber, agonised lyrics.
Switching between an acoustic and electric guitar, Traicos also at times calls to stage fellow band members Darren Nuttall on electric guitar, cellist Gareth Skinner, or bassist Kasper Kiely.
Most outstanding is Traicos’ solo performance of “Waking Up Your House Again”, an incredibly tender and honest piece. Her voice has a coarse softness to it, her tone similar to that of Sarah McLachlan. Though the phenomenal song is ever so slightly hindered by some feedback in the audio.
Her final piece, “This Movie” involves Traicos, Kiely, and Skinner on stage. Sticking to theme, the mellifluous ballad contrasts with the poignancy of the song’s meaning: the inability to fall in love with someone you should.
The crowd sits in silence, making only noise for an applause at the end. Despite the small turnout, they’re an engaged audience, truly enjoying the soothing ambience of the set.
With regard to Traicos, it would appear that art does indeed imitate life. Just as the sweet tunes play behind lyrics of sadness, Traicos also hides the poignancy of her feelings behind a sweet and unassuming nature.
