Demons

There are degrees to being from the Country in Australia. I grew up in Woolgoolga, a small coastal town of about 5,000 people situated about 25 kilometers north of Coffs Harbour. Going to boarding school in Sydney, I was sorted into the category of being from the Country and was considered the same level of country as the kid who grew up on a station outside of Tibooburra who literally had to travel for multiple days to get to Sydney.

The point is that the term Country, at least in Australia, is given as a broad catch all category for people who aren’t City people. It is a form of elitism and snobbishment where people are considered (or at least perceived) to be less educated, less relevant, less progressive and ultimately less important than those living in our cities. A City person is well defined with strong knowledge of who or what they are and represent in our Society. A Country person, however, is anyone else.

Country music suffers from the same reductive grouping. As a genre it is incredibly diverse, and covers everything from rock, pop, dance, emo, whimsical, to but name a few. These are all considered separate mainstream genres, however when grouped into country, they simply become country rock, country pop and the like and come with the same connotations as all country music.

These connotations can be a bit unfair. I’ve heard analogies that country music is what is left when everyone who you love leaves you, including your beloved dog. It is the genre of hardship and difficult times. A genre best listened to when you are near the bottom of a whiskey bottle and are considering whether its worth hanging around for the good times which are increasingly looking unlikely to ever arrive.

Catherine Britt describes this general connotation well in her song Drive-In Movie with the classic line of broken men with tales to tell. It was also recognized by Beth Lucas in her opening set when she said it wouldn’t be a country music set without a song about cheating.

It is fitting then, that tonight’s concert was held at the Royal Hotel, Nundah. A pub which has the appearance of a typical country pub, where tradies come to waste their pay cheques in the pokies and where vibe espoused in Billy Joel’s Piano Man is definitely a thing, even if Nundah is not really country, being quite a suburban locale on Brisbane’s northside. If you needed any form of proof of this, the fact that a single soda water costs $6.40 ($6.48 after the bullshit card surcharge is applied) should be evidence enough. Thank fuck I only rarely drink these days, talk about a cost of living crisis.

I think when you cut to the quick of it, country music is about battling demons, much in the same manner put forward by Tenacious D in their famous demon battling song. I have written previously about the potential of a Friday night and how some gigs set out to capture it. This gig wasn’t about grabbing potential, it was a distraction from our demons and a window into greener pastures.

The crowd of 40-50 also seemed happy to live up to their stereotypes. It was an older crowd, with there being a very good chance that I was one of the youngest present in my mid-thirties and broken people abounded who were looking to forget about life for a while. Having talked with a couple of people in attendance and understanding their backstories, I could completely sympathise with their escapism desires.

These included a woman who had the clear objective of getting obliterated. As with any Friday night, it had started out with promise, with a date planned, only to be stood up and then blocked on the app. She was a textbook country music listener, having divorced her husband of 25 years after discovering he was having an affair with her best friend, having left her administrative job due to bullying and now struggling with communicating with her son who refused to understand why his parents were no longer talking to each other. She eventually achieved her goal of obliteration, ultimately being helped from the premises by paramedics into a waiting ambulance.

A second textbook example in the crowd was an army sniper, who had just returned from an extended tour overseas to a society he no longer fully recognized and an ex-wife who had raised four children all by herself because he was always on deployments overseas. His comment during Catherine’s set that he didn’t know what was normal anymore was a stark reminder of just how tough some people have it. A little bit of empathy can go a long way.

There were definitely demons being battled tonight.

Music, in essence, is an amplifier. The truly great artists can and will make you feel the emotions that they want you to feel, however it is easier when the listener is already in the throes of the emotion and the musician can simply amplify that feeling.

Beth Lucas as the opener, did a masterful job of getting the crowd to feel, even managing, at points, to get people up and dancing. It is at this point that the broad church of country music being pigeonholed into that of depression and hardship falls apart. Beth’s song selection showed real skill and a weaving of emotions in waves with early songs ebbing before showcasing the truly happy side of country music and how elation is an emotion capable of being felt.

Beth brought an infective excitement to the stage, clearly being ecstatic to be there performing her original songs. The context given, where Beth noted that most of her gigs tend to be pubs and clubs and thus where crowds generally demand well known covers, gives a precious insight into the difficulties of the live music industry, with the vast number of the available performers coupled with the fragmented nature of live music venues mean that every morsel is fought over with populist strategies required in order for a performer to achieve any type of career, let along career longevity.

This is a shame, because whilst Beth included a number of excellent and clearly well-practiced covers in her set, the true gems were her original songs that were played with authenticity, deep emotions and a barely concealed joy that people were clearly enjoying them. The lack of exposure to those original songs in Beth’s regular pub gigs reduces the depth of the industry as a whole and we are worse off because of it.

I particularly enjoyed Beth’s song What I Deserved, which is a self-reflective dive into past behavior and the repercussions of those actions. It really highlighted the need to confront your role in creating your own demons whilst also showing a path to crushing said demons. The song is really a nicely packaged example of personal growth and character development.

Following Beth was always going to require a skilled performer and Catherine Britt , with her nine studio albums, delivered in spades. Catherine is a well recognised country music singer, with over 35,000 monthly listeners on Spotify and is touring with her husband following the birth of her latest child (who got a lot of blame from Catherine during the show when she had those small forgetful moments suffered by most new parents due to a general lack of sleep).

Catherine spun out song after song, from a long list of crowd favourites, and ended up playing a 90 minute set, including an encore of multiple songs. She was a consummate performer, taking song requests in her stride, any interweaving relevant anecdotes to maintain crowd engagement in-between songs.

Its always fun when the anecdotes are self-deprecating, with a couple comments about her misjudging the potential of raising country artists during her time in Nashville. These included her dismissing the song Tim McGraw, when it was the first single released by Taylor Swift, and her comment that she was never much of a fan of Shania Twain (her husband, however did profess his more positive reception to Shania, recognition, no doubt, of the power of an attractive singer on a then teenaged boy).

Ultimately, I found her songs to generally be more upbeat and positive even though she still dealt with heavy topics such as divorce and cancer. Catherine showcased the happy and jig heavy side of country music with a couple of inspired song choices such as Hillbilly Pickin’ Ramlin’ Girl and Swingin’ Door.

By the end, the gig was exactly what was needed. It showcased the dangers of attempting to pigeonhole country music into a singular homogeneous genre whilst also giving the crowd the necessary respite from the ever present demons that plague us in a world that is moving too quickly and the often brutal consequences.

If you have the chance to see either Beth Lucas or Catherine Britt live, I highly recommend it. You won’t regret it.