Paul Brady – James Cabaret, Wellington March 9th, 2014 Caitlin Smith 13th Floor March 10, 2014 My musical pilgrimage to see Paul Brady in the Wellington International Arts Festival was a dream come true. The Northern Irishman is a songwriter’s songwriter: name-checked by Dylan as one of his top five songscribes. It’s easy to see why. He is a hero in Ireland much the same way as Bruce Springsteen is adulated in the States. Though he is a superb performer, singer and songwriter, and his songs have been covered by the likes of Tina Turner, Bonnie Raitt and even Cher, ‘superstar’ recognition outside Ireland seems woefully absent. Fortunately for us, Brady’s son married a Kiwi lass and he came down for the wedding. Though it’s a long haul, and his first visit, I do hope this will mean more concerts down under, and certainly, an overdue gig for Auckland fans. He deftly escorted the sold-out audience at James Cabaret, to a perfectly chosen 18 song setlist. A single, large valve microphone placed centre stage served his voice and stringed instruments magnificently. The ease with which he worked with the dynamics of proximity made us feel like we were upstairs at an acoustic session at Dublin’s The Meeting Place (or sat at one of the 300 or so folk clubs so vital and active throughout Great Britain during the late 1960′s and ’70′s) Brady’s stage-presence, story-telling and multi-instrumental virtuosity were showcased by performing solo. He accompanied his seemingly effortless (and ageless) tenor voice with bouzouki, mandolin, keys, six string and 12 string guitars. All but one of these instruments was borrowed from generous members of the local folk community whom he humbly thanked. Brady described the difficult transition from being a darling of the traditional Irish folk music circuit in the 1970′s (Planxty, as a duo with Andy Irvine, The Johnstons) to writing his poignant and often political originals in the 1980′s. He said he felt the pressure to be the mouthpiece for this or that faction. Thankfully, his songs are more effective for their emotional honesty and accurate documentation of the human condition in all it’s joy, pain and contradiction, rather than taking sides or grandstanding. It WAS emotional! I was either straining my zygotic muscles with a permanent grin during the rollicking traditional tunes like ‘The Jolly Soldier’, deliciously un-PC ‘Wearing the Britches’, the violent rebellion of ‘Arthur McBride’ and original ‘The World is What you Make it’, or, weeping tears of commiseration in his definitive version of ‘The Lakes of Pontchartrain’, or originals ‘Nothing But the Same old Story’, ‘The Island’ and ‘Steel Claw’. Every song was an exquisite gem – even an encore of infrequently performed ‘Mother and son’ that he ignored requests for favourites to play “just to annoy yah”. Bonnie Raitt has always been able to select great material for her interpretation (Brady wrote Luck of the Draw – title track to her 1991 release). Last night he sang a tune he co- wrote with Raitt’s ex-husband called ‘A Marriage made in Hollywood’ that Raitt includes on her latest CD. This song was about “our obsession with other people’s tragedy”, noting that these days ‘All you need to be a star / is to die in open view’. He recounted great stories to set his precious sonic stones in context. It was a personal and powerful history lesson: tales from the Napoleonic wars of girls falling in love with soldiers; the Irish diaspora, particularly to Boston the 1930′s, as labourers emigrating to build the infrastructure of the United States (and often pine for home); the human face of The Troubles wherein any Irish in England were considered terrorists (or as his song puts it ‘nothin’ but a bunch of murderers’). He told of a song he wrote as a prayer/love song that was used in an ad for Kerrygold butter…. as yah do. Throughout his intense set, Brady was relaxed, warm, engaging and genuinely humble. He thanked the audience for coming into a darkened theatre on such a nice afternoon (as it was) saying he wouldn’t have done the same. Whenever he’d fluff a note on either finger- busting guitar or keyboard solos, he’d smile in response rather than cringe or frown. I found this immensely refreshing. ‘Nobody Knows’ is a song he claims “wrote itself”, though he says he fought against it because of his reticence about name-checking Elvis. He likened the latter to being as tacky as mentioning the radio in a song in order to garner airplay. It strikes me though, as a teacher of voice and songwriting, that it just doesn’t get better than Paul Brady. I went to Bruce Springsteen last Sunday and witnessed the mass idolatry, bluster and bravado The Boss conjures from his adoring crowds. Why is it that Springsteen is lauded as the hero of the people, whereas Paul Brady is almost invisible in comparison? Look no further than Brady’s lyrics “No use in asking / The answer is, Nobody Knows”. NB: When I spoke to Mr Brady after the show, he seemed super-keen to play some gigs in Auckland. OK promoters, let’s make it happen. http://13thfloor.co.nz/reviews/concert-reviews/paul-brady-james-cabaret-wellington-march-9th- 2014/ .