Given the slickness of their sound, Urban Gypsies might as well be called Urbane Gypsies. Which isn't to say they don't have heart. Soul. Feeling. Colour. Texture. They do. I mean urbane in the best sense: elegant; as opposed to merely 'polite'. At the loungeroom-intimate Ruby's Performance Space Cafe, in not-so-beautiful downtown Bondi, this was the pared-back, unplugged Urban Gypsies: the dynamic duo of guitarists Gavin Libotte & Dieter Kleeman, and Anatoli Torjinski, on 'cello which, thanks to astonishing versatility and technique, more than sufficed as bass (and even percussion); roles otherwise fulfilled, respectively, by Rodrigo Salgado and Nick Cecire.The warmup was one Daniel Coates, who has come full circle, having left his hometown of Sydney to travel the world, seeking his truth. If the self-assuredness of his songs are any guide, he might well have found it. Even if one suspects an unpalatable hidden agenda of covert evangelism (the Christian version of integrated advertising, or product placement), if taken at face value his songs carry messages, however charmingly naive, of universal love and positivity and, on that basis alone, can hardly be faulted. It's pretty clear, too, that at practically any given time in human history, there's been plenty of need for such; the here-and now being no exception. But he has much more to offer than merely expedient and timely motherhood statements: his songs are well-crafted and he has a fine, open voice, with distinctive, measured vibrato. He has, apparently, been described as “Ben Harper meets Jason Mraz on a trip around the world”, which, perhaps, is a reasonable guide. His debut album was recorded under extraordinary circumstances, in South America, best related by the artist himself. It's called, simply and directly, Connect, and features songs like The Universe Gets High (on giving you more than you want); the kind of middle-class mantra that may buoy our flagging spirits on blue days, but which might be anathema to people dying quietly, invisibly and anonymously in the poorest villages on Earth, or three billion who live on less each day than we typically shell out for a sub-standard cappuccino. Musically, however, it redeems, with a slickly-produced set of infectious grooves, which translate surprisingly well to one man and his acoustic guitar, live, thanks to Coates' soaring voice and spirit. In other words, temper the almost psychotically delusional ideas and ideals with a little 'real world' skepticism and you've got a collection of well-written songs that may well heal some wounds, mend some hearts and repair some torn souls. Rather immodestly intimating them as life-changing, on the other hand, as his website does, may be higher than hope.
Urban Gypsies don't look at all wearied by age, or anything else, yet they're veterans of the festival circuit and premier venues like The Vanguard. They've also supported the like of Buena Vista Social Club. They've had the sensational Arrebato Ensemble open for them. And they've been reasonably busy in the studio, too. Three albums in a decade is not to be sneezed at, especially for an independent act. They got off to a flying start with their debut album, Gypsy Fever, at the turn of the millennium. It was embraced enthusiastically by critics, who had to wait another three breathless years for the follow-up, Sauvage, on which they were joined by Perth prodigy Simon Phillips and which nudged the boundaries of territory they'd explored to that point. Their next didn't see light of day until a couple of years ago. It's, literally, (a) Beautiful Catastrophe. Certainly, as evidenced last night, the title track is transcendent, in a way any number of 'Jesus Loves You' ditties will never be. An immaculate conception. That album saw erstwhile piano bar entertainer Gordon Tan join. OK, so the lineup changes have been a bit headspinning. A movable feast. But what would you expect from a band of gypsies? It's only fitting they should keep moving; 'though, fortunately, urged on by an unending quest for excellence and the new, rather than chased out of town by prejudice, like real gypsies. Phillips has gone on to a very promising career, moving through a solo phase, then forming a four-piece. By all accounts, you should 'do yourself a favour', but that's another story, for another day.
The long and the short of it is the current lineup revolves around leader Libotte and easygoing collaborator (not to mention gifted composer) Kleeman. Apropos of nothing, the first thing I notice is they wear stylish clobber. The next, they wield very unusual guitars. Godins (nerds will know Leonard Cohen favours 'em). Canadian. They appear to be very individually and idiosyncratically, if not dissimilarly, shaped, yet sound quite different: Libotte's with a sharper tone and short sustain; Kleeman's warmer, with a little more reverb. My failing eyesight perceived steel strings, it thinks, but the sonic leaning, at times, tended towards a more subdued nylon texture. In any event, the differential between the two enriches the sound, creating interest and complexity, while Torjinski's cello sounded clean and uncomplicated through Ruby's tiny but terrific PA. Torjinski, with his debonair mo and manner, is astonishing on his own and, if my companion and I had one regret, it was that we didn't hear more and longer solos from him. As it was, his short-but-concentrated bursts fell somewhere between Jimmy Page and Yo Yo. That's about as near as I can put it. Seeing and hearing is believing.
Libotte is a study in studied musicianship: one gets the sense he's constantly striving to surpass himself; every break a breaking free from his limitations, such as they are. it takes him into some dangerous, nail-biting territory, that's visceral and induces a sweat, just as gypsy music should.
When I say gypsy music, of course, I'm using the term in its most catholic, liberal, universal and broadest sense: these gypsies run into and across jazz, Latin, world, fusion and more. The labels are relegated to insignificance, in practice, and Leonard Bernstein's pithy, sage adage springs to mind once again: there are only two kinds of music; good and bad. I hardly need qualify further. Suffice to say, compositionally and instrumentally, the Urban Gypsies are sophisticated, graceful, honed, refined (but not at all in the bland, clinical, whitebread, Kenny G'd sense), innovative, exploratory boundary-riders.
Kleeman comes across as less intense, but no less impressive. His flurries and scurries over the fretboard are, paradoxically, free and frenetic; exciting and beautiful; restrained, yet urgent; impassioned, yet reposed.
All concerned colour from an exquisite, exotic palette, rhythmically and melodically. There are nods to rock, too: the backbones of a couple of tunes sport a robust riff or two, but never obliterate the inclination to improvise. Theirs is a highly-polished, shimmering, high-class act, with sincere respect, profound understanding and tangible empathy for the roots of the music they continue to proliferate, while bringing to bear their individual and collective personalities and predilections.
I've already waxed on Beautiful Catastrophe, which seems, to me, to interpolate classical, avant garde, jazz, soul, funk and gypsy elements, to create something utterly fresh and deeply moving. Alchemy brings a distinct flamenco flavour, albeit with runs that one might expect from Old Slowhand: one for the guitarra aficionados. But there are others. Gypsy Fever warms the cockles, that's for sure.
Urban Gypsies are imaginative, immersive and, to paraphrase Nigella, deeply pleasurable. The tragic and terrific privilege was to enjoy it with an audience little bigger than an extended family. Soccerooting? Wimbledone it? Don't think so. Things got underway early evening. So where the bloody hell were you? Ruby's is the unsung, small, comfortable, warm and welcoming venue in the heart of Bondi Beach that, in many ways, easily outclasses a number of the name venues more readily associated with presentation of jazz, world and other music. Bring along a boutique beer to wash down your commendable vegetable beyrani, or whatever's on that particular Wednesday. Come to think of it a glass or two of cabernet shiraz wouldn't go amiss. Speaking of a miss, or a Ms, say g'day to Liz Page, who curates all these wondrous and memorable occasions. It's not just a place. It's one big, happy family.
Urban Gypsies
Venue: Ruby's Place Performance Café | 95 Roscoe St, Bondi
Date/Time: Wed 23rd June @ 7pm
Tickets: $10
Bookings: 02 9130 3445
Website: www.chapelbythesea.unitingchurch.org.au
