Review – Phil Jamieson

Grinspoon have been favourites on the Australian rock scene for a long time now, but since they went on indefinite hiatus last year they’ve left their fans at a bit of a loose end. But luckily Phil Jamieson, the band’s lead singer, guitarist and songwriter, decided to swing past Adelaide for a solo set to keep the punters happy. And it turned out to be a gig that was something a little bit special.

First up was Ash Gale, in leather and tight black jeans, with an acoustic set which was pleasant if not particularly memorable. His banter didn’t elicit much of a response for the audience, which was quickly filling up during his performance, although he did get a cheer when he asked if anyone agreed that all music after the nineties is shit. (Right before playing a cover of “Bitter Sweet Symphony”, no less.) The fact that he did get a cheer should tell you something about the makeup of the audience – nary a soul was spotted younger than thirty-four.

The opener did his job well, though, and as the kitchen closed and the lights dimmed the audience energised for Phil to take the stage. Which was to raucous applause, as he got stuck into it with the song “Protest” – a vague and scattershot objection against modern living – with nothing for accompaniment but an acoustic guitar, harmonica and a bottle of Jameson. Considering the audience knew to sing along with what was a hidden track on Grinspoon’s first album it was pretty clear the crowd were a receptive and engaged gaggle of fans, and that the night would be all the better for it.

Which is when the hecklers started up. But Phil dealt with them with his usually dry wit. “My dad’s here from Lismore tonight.” In response to a heckle: “I’m doing my best, dad!”

Not that there was much room for disappointment. This could have been Phil eleven years ago – nothing has come off. The songs were maybe a little more upbeat, a little less grungy and tragic, but just as enthralling for it. There was a funked-up version of “Minute by Minute”, a playfully shush-y “Sweet as Sugar”, a Caribbean-influenced performance of “Just Ace”, and a slow and throaty version of “1000 Miles” that was more Tom Waits than Ram Jam. Rounded out with the odd cover, including a ironically heartfelt performance of “Hold Me Now”, it all made for one of the most distinctive sets I’ve ever experienced.

Phil Jamieson is an effortlessly charismatic musician, and with no disrespect to the former band he is just as strong by himself as he is with the full compliment. But most of all, he’s just a lot of fun to watch, and even the dickheads in the audience couldn’t spoil the warm response the crowd gave him. Here’s hoping he makes a habit of performing this quirky little sets all about the country.