Internationally acclaimed genre-benders Fat Freddy’s Drop carved out a small field with a festival-style concert at their Brisbane show (Eatons Hill Hotel, 23 March).
The air was thick with the smell of wet grass, fried meats, and cigarette smoke.
The fifth stop along their first Australian tour since 2016 epitomised the backdrop of a back-deck summer’s afternoon. Warm drips of drunken conversation filled the rare silences between the blissful combination of jazz, dub and reggae the seven-piece are famed for.
I was immediately brought back to their 2010 Bluesfest set (when I had watched them, wide-eyed) as the Kiwi reggae rascals kicked into their psychedelic yarn-spinning and crowd-controlling electronic sonics, captivating a capacity audience.
Click here to read our recent interview with Fat Freddy's Drop.
Were they the same energetic act that I had seen through the tint of teen-hood excitability? No. Had the years been unkind to them? Also no.
The Wellington jam band have managed to hold onto the same energy they have had since their conception – all stanky legs and personalised jackets.
As Dallas Tamaira’s (aka Joe Dukie) confident vocals joined the already thick mix in the air, it was clear they had also picked up a polished, tighter stage show along the way.
Their widely-hailed horn section was in top form as they worked their way through their back catalogue, with tracks performed from debut album album 'Based On A True Story' through to their most recent release 'Bays'; trombone wrangler Hopepa’s sopping sweatband safely securing MVP status throughout the night.
Notably leaving out fan favourites 'Ernie' and 'Wandering Eye', the crew satiated the forgiving crowd by endurance-testing fresh material onstage in classic Freddy’s style.
Working through 'Mother Mother' and 'Cortina Motors', the laid-back crowd loosely mimicked Hopepa’s high kicks and swinging arms – densely packed yet punch-on free, saturated with NZ expatriates and more cuzzys than a family reunion.
Benevolent beatmaster DJ Fitchie set the pace from behind his elevated decks, his grumbling womps escaping from the purple smoke as they kicked into a standout rendition of 'Blackbird'.
Iain Gordon’s keys cut staccato through sweaty anticipation, while Hopepa and his horn put forth a power stance, taking his only well-earned breath break of the night as the percussion ramped up and the audience broke down.
Sometimes they would lead us through legible songs, often they would simply break into otherworldly jams. Gordon wound his galactic sound through DJ Fitchie’s deep, almost-disco synths as Hopepa re-emerged from the wings, dressed in the same sporty whites as earlier but now with the addition of untold razzle dazzle.
From the rhinestone-studded sweatband to the sparkling cape and the glistening tighty-whiteys, he strutted and pouted across stage as the world’s silver fern Mick Jagger – trombone under one thumb, audience under the other.
Returning for an irrefutable encore, Tamaira joined DJ Fitchie above deck leaving Jetlag Johnson and his foot tappin', brain zappin', red-light-district guitar centre stage. A distinctly bushy smell began to rise from lungs straining themselves to shout their appreciation.
The first encore track was to be a Brisbane exclusive, an all-in rendition of 'Happy Birthday' offered up to a madly grinning Hopepa, before jumping into long-awaited 'Roady'. Joined onstage by support act and certified queen Ladi6, MC Slave swapped vocals between him and the crowd in what became a thousand-strong jam session.
Hopepa spliced a shrill, bluesy harmonica solo between bass-filled beats, bending and slicing across stage like an inflatable car salesman with +10 rhythm and total commitment.
He then produced a tuba from somewhere behind his very tiny pants to converse with the remaining Freddy’s, Ladi6, and the crowd in golden sound, wrapping up a tight set with cinematic style.
