Ottawa Bluesfest was once again the site of a performance by Alejandro Rose-Garcia, aka Shakey Graves, who graced us with a visit two years ago inside the Barney Danson Theatre. This time, he was placed in what seemed a more fitting setting: down by the river’s edge on the Canadian Stage, where the somewhat self-contained area has always engulfed me in its pleasant country-cottage ambiance.
His organic, old-worldly blend of edgy wild west country meets front porch blues has quickly inspired and drawn a growing league of fans over the last few years. Already, he’s made appearances on Conan, Letterman, Seth Meyers, and the highly acclaimed Austin City Limits. Since 2011, he has recorded several albums, some of which are only available for a few days surrounding Feb. 9th each year, a day proclaimed as “Shakey Graves Day” by the mayor of Austin in 2012. The many video recordings of him that exist range from performances in prestigious concert halls, to open fields and century old barns. He finished his first series of shows in Australia with fellow Americana artists, Shovels & Rope earlier this year, and has been on an extensive North American tour ever since.
Graves boarded the stage solo, donned in a Toronto Raptors ballcap, and proceeded with some quick finger picking guitar goodness in a catchy, yet haunting number, “Roll The Bones”. He kept up a steady beat on a foot-propelled suitcase drum and tambourine, as his body rocked in its rhythm. His voice wove in and out between a sultry western swagger, to intense grittiness, which brought a variety of texture and emotion.
A drummer and second guitarist/bassist were present for the next handful of songs, which included, “The Perfect Parts”, where Graves stood off stage right and sang from behind a podium draped proudly in the Texas flag. The song galloped along in a strong rhythm, as Graves’ voice moved in and out of intensities.
Other signature qualities of his music entailed variations in tempo and rhythm, sudden stops and starts, meek to strong transitions, and Graves’ colourful vocal flavours and impressive range. All brought a dark and captivating mystique that resonated with emotion. “Pansy Waltz” was a prime example in its twists and turns, as it began with a languishing, carnival-like three-quarter pace, then abruptly turned into a heavier swaying drinking shanty. Graves’ soulful cries brought the song to its peak, and garnered a wash of crowd response.
The same could be said for “Late July”, which Graves performed in his one-manned solitude once again. His superb guitar skills played a mix of strumming and plucking, while he kept time on the suitcase drum. The flow was interrupted by a single resonating chord, where he let out a rebel yell, then resumed with a quicker-paced rhythm. Again, this very pronounced change in musical stride triggered another wave of reaction from the crowd who by this time, he had under his spell.
I was moved by the song, “Tomorrow”, one he wrote when he was 17, about the torment and confusion of young love and life’s expectations. There was a stripped-down Springsteen quality to it, which was unrushed and intimate, and again brought me in with the hypnotic tone in his voice. After a pause on a hanging note, he resumed with a fast-paced country chug on the Samsonite, and dug his gritty vocals into the next upbeat segment. He engaged the very reciprocating crowd in a call-and-response, where he put them to work with some challenging sounds in all different pitches. And just when the fun began to reach its height, it was over too soon. As he reluctantly unplugged his guitar from his amp, a mass of voices began to chant his name, and I was left with the feeling that something truly special had just happened here.
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