Jagwar Ma on record and Jagwar Ma on stage present somewhat different propositions. It’s the same band and same songs, but in the live setting, each member brings a different side of the exciting Sydney trio’s sound to the fore.
With the marriage of ‘ghosts of shoegaze past’ and vintage drum machines, the band’s unorthodox sound has garnered international fanfare and praise from the likes of Noel Gallagher.
Their debut record Howlin’ exhibits psychedelic soundscapes that have drawn comparisons to tripped out Aussie favourites Tame Impala and Pond, while also incorporating the shoegaze influence akin to acts like My Bloody Valentine –a characteristic similar to lead singer Gabriel Winterfield’s previous group, Ghostwood. Jagwar Ma’s live shows, however, are all about dancing.
The band took to The Metro stage individually like prize fighters. Production wiz Jono Ma was first, laying down dashing beats before the trio quickly showed the audience why they are bound to be festival stalwarts for years to come. The group’s cutting edge status in a notable period for Australian music was exemplified by the predominantly young audience – along with a dash of elder statesman keen to lose their shit like it was 1992.
The band performed songs from Howlin’ with an endless number of tricks up their sleeve. Ma is the magician, providing busy production work by laying down the pulses and sculpting the rest of the band’s sounds.
Combined with their charisma and confidence to mask technical difficulties, the band gave a live show to match the hype of their debut album. As cliché as it sounds, the biggest problem was the fact that their set was too short!
The simple, ethereal melodies from vocalist Winterfield provided a counterpoint to the dense and skittish production of Ma and Jack Freeman’s bass playing. The melodies were almost like religious chants, featuring lots of stretched out syllables and a penchant for the repetition of phrases in a James Blake-ish kind of way.
‘Come Save Me’ was a highlight and a successful example of this style. From the ascending scale that opens the tune, the horde of faithfuls knew what was coming – singing back word for word, “I don’t think you want me like I want you…” loudly as their bodies bounced in time. The use of heavily reverbed samples added to the feeling of being in an echo chamber – or inside someone’s trip – as Freeman’s bass plodded along consistently.
It’s moments like these that illuminate Ma’s work. Not only does he provide the backbone with his throwback, techno beatwork, he deftly manipulates both samples and the signal coming from Winterfield’s microphone to turn the vocal into another modulating layer of the song.
Jangly guitars came front and centre during the band’s signature tune ‘Let Her Go’. Perhaps the most Jagwar of all Jagwar Ma songs, the tune transformed from ‘60s revival to a dancefloor jam with a delish, distorted, pulsing synth bassline that got the room going.
Despite microphone problems, Winterfield’s strong vocals held up well in the live environment and gave the enthusiastic audience plenty of singalong fodder – even those without much Jagwar literacy.
The vocals were also laden with effects: reverb, echoes, and choruses to fill the room with various cut offs, sizes, and types of modulation that added further inflection to the band’s sound. It’s these skillful techniques, and their ability to engage an audience, that make this up and coming Aussie trio so exciting.
