Rock and roll has taken many forms since it wriggled out of the waters of jazz and blues. It continues to shift shapes but we still recognise it and welcome it in its purest form. Benjamin Booker’s form, in all of it’s glory is far from primitive, it relies on simplicity, the traditional, but has evolved from the Bayou into a rock that romps, far beyond Tampa….and New Orleans is accessible in a way that is integral and authentic.
A whirlwind year has decided to pick Benjamin up from Tampa and drop him in the heart of Louisiana’s New Orleans. Bassist Alex Spoto and drummer Max Norton have followed suit. Less than 10 months ago, Booker was playing solo shows to small audiences but his inimitable take on deep south Americana turned the heads and pricked the ears of the right industry people. A European tour has ensued and an unsuspecting audience has been introduced to Booker’s raucous rolling rock.
It was pretty clear from the start that tonight the band had let their hair down and were celebrating the end of this leg of the European adventure. The rider accompanied the three on stage with a questionable green goblet. The ‘Fosters’ was allocated and then we were underway.
Booker saunters to the front, as if he’d done it for years. He has a charisma that is full of charm but distant enough to entice wonder. His eyes clamp tightly shut as he effortlessly wanders up to the microphone. The lead man goes between a complete relinquishment on reality in a seemingly possessed state and a nonchalance, especially in his blistering chord control with guitar in hand.
The young band are uniformly tight which allows Booker to pirouette his Gibson around his neck and down his back on numerous occasions as the beat thunders on from ‘Have You Seen My Son’ through his impressively prolific collection of predominantly high intensity songs. His stage presence is infectiously irrepressible, one minute smiling and interacting with the other members of the band and his eyes rolling white in his head the next, as he frequently loses himself on some spiritual plain.
The majority of Benjamin Booker’s material is based around the hyperactively magnificent drumming of Max Norton. The rhythm rolls on as one might expect from a Louisiana Americana band but there is a marked difference in that elements of psyche and even grunge intertwine with the soulful blues that give it an added dimension and an angst that transfers from your legs to your gut and back again.
Norton bounces on his stool, spring loaded, accurately thrashing his kit like a clockwork swordsman. The energy he brings exuberates the rest and forms the platform for Bookers excellent songs to take shape. The young man’s vocals are a rare treat and contrast an intriguing balance between the soulful blues harmonies to his resonant drawled agony. In “Wicked Waters” Booker sails along on the rhythm and then slows it all down to allow the pain coiled up inside to seep out in a delicious harmony wrapped in barbed wire. His voice is a husk of gravel yet it remains velveteen in an un-manicured way.
Halfway through the show the band slow it all down as bassist Alex Spoto takes the fiddle and Norton the mandolin. This shows the versatility of the musicianship as we enter a country episode for a brief period before Booker takes up his guitar and the controlled calamity of the swamp rock prevails.
As the set got older the rider got lighter, Booker happily sharing his beers with the audience before he himself joined them in an indulgent sorte off stage. The celebratory booze may have been a catalyst but it was well received as the likeable lead was helped up only to writhe around wrestling each note from his guitar.
This Bayou Boogie stomp whistled on and into his first single off his new self titled debut album ‘ Violent Shiver’, the chorus getting every one upstairs in Clwb Ifor Bach howling.
Benjamin Booker has been well received where ever he has been and this was no exception. From TV shows such as Letterman and Conan, to festivals and throughout the UK; this talented man and his band will bring their southern rock but people will listen and come and see him because it’s real. The man is a showman but its authentic and it is evidently personal to him and that’s good enough for me.
Quiffed Owl 