Live Review: Bahamas, Slow Dancer

7 December 2017 | 5:00 pm | Mike Jeffrey

"A set that veered from rollicking choruses with a hint of Appalachia in the guitars, through Motown and soul to their own particular thing, with rhythm aplenty sprinkled on top of it all."

Bahamas hit North Fremantle's old reliable (Mojo's) to do a headline show in advance of their opening duties for Jack Johnson on Wednesday.

To keep the karma flowing, Bahamas introduced their fans to Slow Dancer, aka Simon Okely, who treated us to a laid-back groove, contemplative vocals with a touch of Nick Drake and luscious, wobbly, reverberating guitar stylings. His set warmed the punters up perfectly, the crowd were buzzing at the break and a sense of contentment vied with anticipation throughout the venue.

When Afie Jurvanen, better known as Bahamas, and his band came on stage they stoked the anticipation further with an understated funk groove, a single guitar tracing the beat just long enough to make us sigh when the band finally joined in. Then we got soulful falsetto from the man himself and transcendent harmonies from a barefoot Felicity Williams. 

From there Jurvanen swept us through a set that veered from rollicking choruses with a hint of Appalachia in the guitars, through Motown and soul to their own particular thing, with rhythm aplenty sprinkled on top of it all. Short and peppy numbers tumbled one after the other, a multitude of interesting arrangements marking them out; lead guitar duets, harmonies that shimmered over Jurvanen's lyrics or sparred with his guitar leads. And space - plenty of open territory as the band patiently built-up, working their way to climaxes that meant all the more since they were a long time coming. This wasn't up-tempo dance music, but the sweet and soulful grooves had everyone swaying, some more theatrically than others. Smiles crept across all faces and refused to move on.

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Eventually, we made it to Opening Act (The Shooby Dooby Song), an anthem for bands trudging through their 3pm sets at festivals crowded with punters there to see somebody else. Jurvanen's characteristic good humour shone through even when reflecting on the trials of playing to a crowd that might be picnicking, napping or reading. 

In the end it was Jurvanen's good humour, tolerance and search for the positive that rewarded us, whether through witty and perceptive lyrics, sweet and soulful rhythms or the shimmering guitars and poignant harmonies that throbbed and bustled above it all.