Okay, so imagine if Lady Gaga had hung around the Noo
Yoik jazz clubs of the 30s and 40s or if Robin Thicke had been ‘blurring lines’ in
Appalachia back in the 50s? That, in essence, is the brilliant but simple premise behind Postmodern Jukebox, take ‘modern’ pop songs and re-imagine them adding a little (or in most
cases a lot) more musical magic all with a distinctively vintage twist. To quote
the chap behind it, US jazz musician Scott Bradlee, it’s all about the creation
of “an alternate pop universe” (and let’s face it some of today’s pop
songs...and their singers...could certainly do with being transported to an
alternate universe at times). It’s been pretty ruddy successful too, with one
of the group’s best efforts, a heartbreakingly poignant cover of Lorde’s Royals sung by a 7ft
tall clown (sadly he wasn't here tonight), picking up almost 8million hits on You Tube to
date...and all without the aid of breakdancing kittens, grannies battering
would be muggers or drunk frat boys falling off roofs. Impressive eh? Now,
after a sell out US tour, the Jukebox has popped over the Atlantic for a mere
handful of dates, one of which is in Brum’s suitably vintage Institute.
Tonight’s gig (like the rest on this tour) is sold
out and the room’s jam packed with a mix of the ‘yoot’ plus one or two older fans
no doubt attracted by a night of ‘proper’ music...with real tunes and
everything. I daresay the announcement at the beginning asking the audience to
keep their mobiles off and in their pockets pleased them no end. Actually, who
am I trying to kid...I am one of them...and yes, it delighted me. Happily
everyone seemed to follow this gentle instruction too which is something of a blinking
miracle these days.
From beginning to end Bradlee and his band set out
to create a vintage atmosphere with fake radio ads “And now a word from our
sponsors...” opening the show and setting the tone for the evening,
transporting us all back to a time when the web was something spiders lived in,
the net was something ladies wore to keep their hair neat in bed and ‘smart’
phones were made of cream coloured Bakelite. Ahhhh...happy days. The show’s MC’d
by a dude called Drue, immaculately decked out in a white tux and black tie,
and the core band remains onstage throughout as the singers (three lovely
ladies and Drue himself) pop on and off throughout the evening. A brief ragtime
instrumental version of The Final Countdown get’s the crowd going (it’s a particularly
enthusiastic reception in fact) before Robyn Adele Anderson steps up in glam
20s garb for a similarly ‘ragtimified’ reworking of Macklemore’s Thrift Shop.
It does indeed sound “fuckin” (or “freakin” if you’re under 18) awesome”.
It’s
swiftly followed by a Great Gatsby makeover of Swedish House Mafia’s Don’t You
Worry Child and a tap dancing romp through Ke$ha’s Die Young. I’ve been a big
fan of using tap dancers to add a little percussive fairy dust on things ever
since falling in love with Tilly and the Wall back in the day and the chap that
does the business on this tour kept up a mean pace (despite the blistering heat
and an outfit better suited to lounging on the deck of an ocean liner sipping a
G&T). Robyn sauntered off for the first of several costume changes (I’d
hate to see this band’s excess baggage bill) to be replaced by Ashleigh Stroud channelling
her inner jazz diva on Katy Perry’s Dark Horse. After some more comedic “words
from our sponsors” the band ramped up the oddball with a mock brass battle
soundtracked by the Game of Thrones theme tune (trombone won tonight...never
pick a fight with a trombone...). Other highlights? How long have you got? Robyn’s
klezmer-tastic Talk Dirty replete with a Yiddish Rap and Christine’s Sweater
Weather (part Edith Piaf, part Eartha Kitt)...in-Seine-ly good...bonus points
for the whistling solo too, not an easy thing to pull off.
An honourable
mention for the most enthusiastic tambourine player on planet earth. The dude’s
like the Duracell bunny on E. Robyn’s fabulous doo wop version of the
perma-twerking Miley Cyrus’ hit We Can’t Stop drags it out of the gutter and
lifts it up to the stars, Drue’s Motown overhaul of Nickelback’s Rockstar
(loved Scott’s cheeky use of Rhapsody In Blue in there) injected real soul into
the pretty plodding original and Robyn’s Blurred Lines well and truly put the
ho into hoe down. Yeehaw!
All three ladies
came together for a fab 60s girl band version of Ellie Goulding’s Fire (highlight
of the night?) and the set was capped off by a bouncy Get Lucky...which is
pretty appropriate really as everyone in the audience this evening clearly had
done just that by scoring a ticket.
Okay, so at first the whole thing might scream
‘novelty cheesefest’ but it’s pretty clear that a lot of thought’s gone into
these interpretations and they’re all done with a oodles of love and considerable
musical talent. It helps if you know the original versions of the songs as
hearing the transformation is all part of the fun but if you don’t know Ke$ha
from a sack of spuds (and I don’t...) then you’d still get a kick out it all. Great
interpretations, accomplished performances, gorgeous costumes and a lively, fun
approach...this show’s ‘Scott’ it all.
PS: Rarely seen a queue for the merch stand as big as the one tonight...the band's probably still there now pressing the flesh.
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