James Vincent McMorrow’s show is less like a regular concert and more like a spiritual experience.
The Irish troubadour’s last Australian performance to a sold out audience at The Metro in Sydney saw an atmosphere so respectful and silent you could almost hear a pin drop – in the moments when the crowd weren’t applauding or singing along, that is.
When McMorrow was here to promote his second album Post Tropical, he also entertained fans by playing a lot of songs from his well-received debut, Early In The Morning.
‘The Lakes’ opened the show rather softly and set the tone for the entire evening. McMorrow, on acoustic guitar, had just three musicians accompany him on a combination of drums, bass, keyboards, samplers, and backing vocals. Together the instruments brought his lush, folk tunes to life while worlds of melodies and harmonies collided in full technicolor.
The performance was a stripped back and often quiet affair, but the audience were as engaged as a group witnessing a 20-piece band with all the trimmings (read: dancers, visuals, light show, and costume changes).
The Irish folkie was very chatty and remained caring and optimistic, asking how everyone was and commenting on how nice and great things generally were. More specifically, he spoke about playing at larger venues, performing with excellent musicians, and having lots of songs he wanted to sing. This was one sweet and charming man.
In ‘Hear The Noise That Moves So Soft And Low’, the crowd were treated to what could only be described as a choir of angels descending upon a campfire. The vocals were so fragile and lilting that they were almost like dew on a leaf in the early morning.
A change of pace followed with ‘Red Dust’. Electronic drums and a pulsating beat created a heady spin of vulnerability as McMorrow sang about desire and wanting someone to love and hold him.
The singer-songwriter certainly wears his heart on his sleeve, a factor that helps make his music so relatable and endearing.
There were songs about journeys (‘Glacier’) and a silly impromptu ditty before the band straddled the lines between a lovely, tender hush and a more playful, catchier beat.
The four-part harmonies in ‘Down The Burning Ropes’ were nothing short of amazing and showed why groups like The Beach Boys and Boy & Bear continue to capture attention. But, despite this, it was ‘We Don’t Eat’ that received the warmest reaction from punters on the night.
In ‘Cavalier’, McMorrow’s voice boasted the same kind of fragility that Jeff Buckley possessed when he covered ‘Hallelujah’.
It was a sterling ending that was somehow bettered with the encore of ‘And If My Heart Should Somehow Stop’ and a cover of Steve Winwood’s ‘Higher Love’ which, despite not having been played much over the years, was utterly sublime.
Ultimately, McMorrow ticks all the right boxes. He can sing of a love as sweetly as Josh Pyke, be soulful like Dan Sultan, channel the odd bit of percussion akin to the Eels, and emanate a quiet reverence usually only reserved for greats such as Buckley.
It was a perfect day that saw the Metro romp through love, nostalgia, want, desire, and hope, with fictional but relatable characters. These musicians had the chops to hold their own and painted one glorious tapestry of indie folk.
