Math was never my strongest subject.
Particularly in grade 11, once the work became more complicated. I wasted away the classes each day, headphones in, mind distracted by the inner workings of Jose Gonzalez.
Though, unlike my poor attention as a student seven years ago, my focus was very much unwavering at the Sydney Opera House (31 March).
The lights weren’t yet dim as Jose walked the length of the stage; at the centre sat a chair, a microphone, two guitars. He began with ‘With The Ink Of A Ghost’, the leading track from ‘Vestiges & Claws’; it was breathtaking to witness only one pair hands render so many layers of sound.
“Thank you so much for coming, it’s wonderful to be back. The Sydney Opera House, what an honour. Here’s a couple of old songs.”
Time turned with ‘Stay In The Shade’, then ‘Bloodstain’, two short releases from 2003; the lights aptly shifted from blue to red during the latter.
‘Down The Line’ followed, ‘In Our Nature’s debut; he paused again prior to ‘Far Away’, announcing (laughter ensuing): “This song is in the same vein of… inner struggle. Although I wrote this for a video game. About the inner struggle of a cowboy.”
Instrumentals shone during ‘What Will’, Jose expertly looping multiple melodies; he invited an accompanist on stage for ‘The Forest’, she played the flute beautifully.
‘Cycling Trivialities’ was an absolute highlight, my indisputable pick of his discography, with the lyrics: “Who cares in, a hundred years from now?” the source of my blatant disregard for sin, cos and tan, as a teen.
The pace slowed with ‘Every Age’, he muttered quietly during ‘Abram’; ‘Leaf Off / The Cave’s lyrics: “Let the light lead you out,” were cleverly accompanied by spotlights shining on the crowd.
“This is one of the first songs I learned to play,” Jose smiled, audience awing in approval as he plucked the chords of ‘Blackbird’, by The Beatles; Junip’s ‘Line Of Fire’ followed, the insightful ‘Open Book’ then saw him whistling softly.
Image © Prudence UptonHe thanked his listeners, explaining that “these next couple were inspired by Western African music,” and despite my ignorance to the genre I genuinely felt its influence in ‘Afterglow’ and ‘Stories We Build, Stories We Tell’.
‘Killing For Love’ proved a powerful close to the set, though the eruption of applause and standing ovation very swiftly brought Jose back; he slowly tuned his guitar before rewarding the crowd with ‘Crosses’, followed by fan-favourite ‘Heartbeats’ (originally released by The Knife).
I falsely presumed his cover of ‘Teardrop’ by Massive Attack would conclude the performance, but unexpectedly found myself among the many standing, cheering, almost begging for him to resurface, and remarkably, he did, the first double encore I’ve witnessed.
“Thank you so much,” he praised, “This song is about my favourite Australian. Kylie.” He played his rendition of ‘Hand On Your Heart’ before exiting the stage for the third and final time.
I always wondered why Jose’s compositions were so appealing to me, and admittedly wrote it off as an inclination towards pretty guitar licks, at a young age. Now, a little older and perhaps a little wiser I can see how his inner workings have remained so intriguing.
He’s such an interesting man, quirks more apparent witnessing live (a baby cries out during the silence, he strangely remarks: “There’s a cat in here”), compositions brimming with a worldly perspective made up of equal parts understanding and confusion, perfectly balanced, a wise albeit wide-eyed equilibrium.
Lyricism aside his instrumental ability is undeniably second to none, aptitude at playing the guitar incomparable; music is wonderful in a sense that it’s infinite and seemingly impossible to conquer, but seeing Jose produce so much texture from six, simple strings makes me wonder whether he’s somehow managed to master it.
In our modern age many genres are becoming increasingly embellished with sounds, both digital and instrumental; it’s quite incredible to consider one musician captivated so many with only one musical tool at his disposal.
I imagined the tourists, maybe locals, admiring the sparkling view of the Harbour Bridge, eyes looking into lenses, snapping smiling faces on the staircases. Thousands would have looked up at the stunning Sydney Opera House that night, without realising that something just as awe-inspiring was tucked away inside it.
