Laconic master of his craft and stellar band expand on new LP and impressive back catalogue to engaging, highly musical effect
By Ben Wood
Alt.country icon Bill Callahan seems very comfortable in his own skin. Twenty-four albums into his career, initially as the more lo-fi Smog and then for the last two decades under his own name, the implausibly well-preserved 60-year old singer-songwriter and US indie icon knows what he is and what he can do.
Always an intriguing lyricist, recent albums have seen Callahan increasingly journey towards the light… and it suits him. That’s not to say tonight’s songs are free of dark thoughts and ‘Zoloft pines’. But he seems to be having fun out there – and has one hell of a back catalogue to dip into.
His current live incarnation sees the man’s super-deep baritone and existential ruminations married to increasingly exploratory, ambitious music and a wry, conditional sort of optimism.
As with his amazing 2022 Roundhouse gig, he has a superpower…Dirty Three legend Jim White on drums, helping Callahan’s sometimes muted sonic palette soar into intriguing areas thanks to his endless rhythmic subtleties. White is no show-off but he makes it all sing.
The night begins with a curveball. Support act Nathan Bowles shuffles diffidently onstage, his studious and low-key mien rarely changing as he samples and layers two lengthy pieces of industrially tinged analogue instrumental psychedelia.
Oscillating frequencies alternately soothe and provoke, as more noisy, dissonant threads appear. A drumbeat kicks in as what appears to be a heavily treated banjo layers wah-wah’d Eastern scales on top. The vibe is kinda goth with psychedelic sprinkles on top. This listener could have done with more changes, but I guess that’s not what this sort of droning trance music is all about. It would make a suitable accompaniment to a drug coma, if that’s your bag. However, this ex-raver was itching for a four-four beat to take it in a more energetic direction, into Orb-esque or kosmische territory.
The second, concluding piece is shorter but explores similar territory. This is music that makes no concessions to the listener and, as such, is always going to be a minority interest. While many aren’t able to suitably adjust their ears, the applause at the end of end shows that a fair few enjoyed the experience.
The first indication that Callahan is in a different headspace nowadays is his backing tape. An impassioned James Brown monologue doesn’t presage an unlikely new funk direction. But it does show that Callahan’s muse is happy to dart off in different directions and he wants us all to have fun. Remember fun?!
The line up features the singer on acoustic guitar, a saxophonist who takes various tunes into new dimensions, a bad-ass, unconventional, Marc Ribot-style electric guitarist…and no bass.
The set is dominated by songs from the recent record My Days of 58, with a smattering of songs from his solo and Smog back catalogues. Opener Why Do Men Sing is a neat exemplar of current era Callahan, asking some big existential questions but always ready to wrongfoot the listener.
There’s a lot to ponder, lyrically. The narrator of The Man I’m Supposed To Be has a revelation (‘I’m living too much in my head / From now on I’ll live my life as if the next day I’ ll be dead‘).
Lonely City completes an opening trio from the new album. This moody nocturnal meditation features a surprise Jim White monologue, where the man of many talents informs us, from his vantage point of the drum stool, that his mate ‘Has a great ass’!
Further highlights include the lovely simplicity of Sycamore; a piece with a jazzy Van Morrison feel; and a Dolly Parton tribute which sees Jolene interpolated into Partition.
Natural Information is an upbeat gas, while local icon Amy Winehouse is saluted with an anecdote wondering if she is really as small as her statue.
The Smog days are referenced with a brace of songs mid-set. Let’s Move to the Country (‘Have a monkey a mule and a flea’) is a wackily touching declaration of love.
Stepping Out for Air is moody and touching, while Highway Born is a classic country anthem about living on the road, complete with rhyming couples: ‘I was born between towns with the pedal down / How am I ever gonna settle down?‘. Plus, of course, whistling!
The set concludes after nigh on two hours with the epic feel of Drover. This band can be as tight as anything on more typically old-school Callahan fare. But when the sax and guitar go out on a limb, the music leaves genre constraints behind.
There are no encores here, though the last tune kinda sounded like it. That part of the showbiz lexicon was not required… We certainly got our money’s worth.
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