BLUESFEST REVIEW
Timber and Steel
Day three, and the sheer length of this year’s festival is starting to dawn on us. Almost half way there, but still a whole day of music to get through. So, taking a deep breath, we venture to the Mojo stage for Darwin based singer/songwriter Leah Flanagan. Having been discovered by festival organizer Peter Noble in a Darwin club, Flanagan brings with her the tropical flavor of the coastal north, as opposed to that of the dusty central Australian landscape that so many before have done. Sharing stories of people and places, old Darwin and new Darwin. Her songs reflect her surroundings and experiences, often trading her guitar for a ukulele, which seems to evoke the salty air and warmth of the top end. It’s not surprising that Jimmy Buffet personally asked Flanagan to be the opening act for his most recent Australian tour. Her strong connection with not only her indigenous heritage, but also her Irish and Italian descent makes for a striking combination of Australian indigenous folk, country, and rock, with the occasional upbeat Caribbean-tinged ragtime song on the ukulele. When Leah Flanagan plays, she brings home with her, giving every listener a taste of the north, and presenting an invitation to visit as soon as possible.
LEAH FLANAGAN WOMADELAIDE Review
Timber and Steel
Leah Flanagan
Saturday – Morton Bay Stage
I feel like I should have seen Leah Flanagan before but for some reason our paths have never crossed. Luckily for me this has all changed after I caught her set at the beautiful Morton Bay Stage, WOMADelaide on Saturday.
Flanagan plays and sings a wonderful laidback bluesy style of folk that suits both her nature and her background (being originally from the Top End). She has surrounded herself with a group of like minded musicians giving her performance a chilled atmosphere (helped along by Leah’s ukulele), almost like you’re sitting in a beer garden on a lazy Sunday afternoon or browsing the wares at a beachside market. I was particularly impressed with Flanagan’s fiddle player, the exotically named Netanela Mizrahi, who seemed to lift the songs to a new level, adding an element of harmony to the lead vocals and filling out the sound.
Leah Flanagan is a true storyteller and her songs evoke a sense of place and community. Her easy going stage presence immediately disarms the audience and has them smiling and nodding their head along to her songs. This was one of the few smaller concerts I’ve seen so far at WOMADelaide where the audience continued to swell as the set went on, with every corner of shade co-opted by a happy punter – my guess is that many many people who didn’t know Leah Flanagan’s music popped by just to check her out and were hooked in by what they saw.
At one point Flanagan introduced a song for (or about?) her Nana with this statement: “The beauty of songs is that they can remind you of people, even if it’s not about them”. I think he truly captured this experience for me and I look forward to crossing paths with Leah again and again in the future.
Leah Flanagan – Nirvana Nights
Vitamin
Against all odds, Leah Flanagan may just become the star she deserves to be. If she gets to take part in the Melbourne Festival alongside the likes of Rickie Lee Jones, Sinead O’Connor, and John Cale as forecast, surely someone of authority and influence will discover her towering talent and take her to the world!
That’d be nice. Darwin may well be rife with performing musicians, but it isn’t exactly the most convenient place from which to launch a national career, let alone an international one.
Things have been humming along slowly but surely for Flanagan since releasing her self-titled debut and scoring a Bluesfest gig in 2007. She joined the Black Arm Band in 2009 and received a Breakthrough Grant to help her record her next album. After getting over the death of her grandmother (fondly remembered here in ‘Goodbye’ and ‘Alyawarre Girl’), Flanagan set about collecting songs and contributors for the new record. Liz Stringer contributed a song, ‘Innocent Hearts’ and also played on the record alongside the likes of Grant Cummerford, Emily Lubitz and Harry Angus. The remainder of album’s material is Flanagan’s own.
While some of the songs meander a little too languidly, everything sounds fantastic – the band shimmering away in a tropical haze of acoustic blues and roots. But when Flanagan’s voice steps to the stage, everything else fades into the background, and you just… listen. Such a gift is rare indeed.
Martin Jones
Hailing from Darwin might be perceived as a disadvantage, given it’s as far from Melbourne as you can be while still in the country.
But Leah Flanagan has turned it into a distinct advantage.
Flanagan sings sweetly but wields a mean ukelele - as Darwin locals will attest, she’s been playing original songs to hot-blooded acclaim since she could swing a tune, and is the darling of the tropical north.
The release of her second album, Nirvana Nights, is not a tribute to that grunge band’s nocturnal habits, but to a small, defiantly seedy bar in Darwin where everybody plays. This testament to Flanagan’s home-town sums up the tone of the album.
Which is not to say it’s small-time – this is a beautifully recorded document of Northern soul, with full-blooded melodies and Flanagan’s voice – at times channelling Shirley Bassey, at others Lucinda Williams, dominating a succulent procession of profound musicianship from some of Melbourne’s finest players – Liz Stringer, Grant Cummerford, Matt Earl, Netanela Mizrahi, Mel Robinson, Emily Lubitz and Harry Angus.
Yes, she recorded it in Melbourne, where she travels frequently to play – when she’s not in Vancouver with the Black Arm Band, Berlin at the Popkomm Festival, Woodford Folk Festival, Adelaide Fringe or wherever else in the world she’s in demand.
The album, produced by Steven Schram (The Cat Empire/Little Birdy/Custom Kings) is a robust interpretation of her onstage persona – vividly human, quiet but possessed of a formidable strength and artistry. Bristling with gorgeous melodies and the kind of wry swing you might suspect of Tom Waits or Jolie Holland, there’s also the off-kilter catch of Martha Wainwright’s emotional torrent in Flanagan’s maturing, but already well-gravelled delivery.
But her home and family are foremost authorities – her grandmother’s acute effect on Flanagan’s world is registered in both Goodbye and Alyawarre Girl, whereas Nirvana Nights, the song, stories Darwin’s small but zealously hedonistic community.
Leah Flanagan is taking her music beyond Darwin’s embrace to a wider world. Her second album announces a woman awake.
Mick Daley