The beautiful gogan goddess came down like a wolf on the fold and ate the weekend. On the way she stopped at the bakery in Mt Barker and ate some pies. Then she ate the Kingdom of Denmark. Her chariot was a pick-up truck filled with a cracker of a band. What was left of the town she nailed in a coffin and buried. She wailed a musical epitaph but vowed on her return to restore the Kingdom to normal. Or so the legend goes.
Could Angie Coleman be that goddess? Angie played the final weekend of Denmark Arts Festival of Voice. She played the Civic Centre on Saturday night before closing the festival at the Arthouse on Sunday night.
Angie opens with River Song with just her and Sarah Curran on guitars. They are both guitar shredders who could tear your ears off in an instant but instead deliver a beautiful song about missing your mum.
With Gluey the band is invited on stage. Together the band is a cracker. Kieran Barnes on bass and Miles Gilbert on drums just layer an impeccable sound under Angie’s vocals. She is a vocal elevator operator. Like the elephant elevator operator in Sesame Street she goes up up up and then down down down. Sometimes her vocal tone combines with the music in such a moment that is so beguiling it would, like the call of the sirens in Homer’s Iliad, lure all to their death. Those moments are short and no one dies.
There are many voices inside her. Some could be Bon Scott, Susie Quattro, Angel Olsen or Julia Jacklin. When Jamie Turner joins on keys for Ayala’s Song it could be Tom Waits. But there is only one Angie Coleman and on WAMI nominated song Maths she delivers that message loud and clear. Sarah sides her guitar like a maverick while the others just do their thang.
The whole band return on Sunday night and do it all again but add many more songs. They also add their only cover of the weekend in Wicked Game. This is not the Chris Isaak nor the Wolf Alive nor the James Vincent McMorrow version. It is purely the Angie Coleman! She nails the song and then nails shut the Denmark Festival of Voice.
An epitaph set in song to the phoenix that is Festival of Voice that will rise again in some form as yet unknown when the goddess returns.