An hour prior to Gary Clark Jr. appearing onstage he made a quick entrance via the back bar of the iconic Annandale Hotel.
People who sighted him yelled and hooted and he dipped his hat as he was bustled backstage. The thunder and lightning that was filling the sky outside was about to be matched by the electricity unleashed, and then tamed, by the man himself and his talented band.
The buzz in the atmosphere was a precursor, like the ozone you smell before the rain; Gary Clark Jr. was on his way.
The punters swelling the hallowed halls of the Annandale prepared to be treated to the ‘saviour of the blues’ and ‘the next Hendrix’. These are some heady words for any 28-year-old to carry, but the eyes and stature of Clark Jr as he hit the stage were those of a young man fulfilling his destiny.
There was some sonic sustained guitar, and then they all launched into a 12 minute version of “When My Train Comes In”, which showed off not only his mastery of the six strings but the simple moving and grooving of a fabulous four-piece rock n blues band. With one song, Clark Jr. verified that he had arrived.
He also displayed that he had the ability to make an audience his in a moment.
A young man who can play like one of the Kings, or that other Texan six stringer who left us too early, Stevie Ray Vaughan; or even, standing in close proximity of guitarists of the calibre of Neil Young or Jimi Hendrix, with the licks to match.
The hooting and hollering did not let up for the entire set and let’s face it, Sydney audiences are hardly ever that supportive.
Blues and boogie, rhythm and blues filled the next hour and a half as the spotlight shone on the magic, soul and sweaty torso of Clark Jr. The ability to sing, write, compose and play guitar like a demon is unfair but along with actor good looks he definitely has the hand that will beat the house odds.
With Eric Zapata adding second guitar and taking lead duties that were electrifying on their own, Zapata got the nod many times from his leader to continue with his solos during extended jams. John Bradley stayed cool in his leather jacket on bass and the rolling beat of John Radelat on drums never failed to keep the songs flying at the gathering.
“Bright Lights, Big City” seemed to crash in around the audience, with someone mentioning out loud that it was the best Crazy Horse they had heard since they last saw Neil Young. The boogie of “Don’t Owe You A Thing” and “Shotgun Man” were mixed in with some blues and the soulfulness of Clark Jr doing his falsetto bit on his song “Please Come Home”.
During this last number, the yelps and gasps of the few females in attendance were audible. Not only did the song feature some gorgeous fret work, but the expressiveness of the vocals was beautiful. Even on a night like this where he was only wearing a singlet, he had many aces up his sleeve.
“Third Stone From The Sun” gave the guitar prodigy the chance to tip his fedora to the master and once again gave that display of guitar pyrotechnics that has so quickly put him into the limelight. People were either yelling or staring with a slack-jawed gaze.
This was a night where any ringing of the ears the next day was a pleasant reminder of what had gone before.
