Seeing Ed Kuepper play is a rare treat at the best of times, so tonight, a two-hour request set, was like getting a goddamn present. “You thought you were coming to a cultural event, but you’ve ended up at an RSL,” he chortles. Dude, if that’s the case, the RSL beats the shit out of any cultural event.
The wry bugger actually played on demand – which meant we got to hear everything you could ever want from a back catalogue spanning five decades (other than for a few songs where he purported to forget the words – fair enough, Kuepper’s got a truck load of songs).
Playing at the Arts Hub was a million miles from playing the grubby old Sarah Sands during the heyday of Honey Steel’s Gold in the ‘90s and even further from the Saints’ punk halcyon days in the ‘70s. There was nary a punk in sight – Kuepper’s crowd has matured with him, but is no less appreciative. It must be gratifying for Kuepper to play an audience so familiar with his work, even the obscure stuff. It beggars belief Kuepper’s not more famous – he has a steadfast cult following, but he’s a genius and deserves to be loved more broadly.
You’d hate to get on his wrong side, but Kuepper’s as funny and as charming as fuck, despite starting by telling us he feels crook and had sworn off request nights.
Everything was gold, but if pressed, the highlights included making a horn section of the audience for Know Your Product, The Way I Made You Feel, the beautifully sad Ghost of an Ideal Wife and his covers of Ring of Fire and Highway to Hell. Horror is the usual response when anyone fiddles with Johnny Cash or AC/DC (please don’t fuck with that shit – it’s perfect), but Kuepper more than gets away with it, imbuing them with low growling, sexy menace.
BY MEG CRAWFORD
Loved: How Kuepper dealt with fireworks mid-set: “You’ll miss them when they’re gone.”
Hated: People, who were truly old enough to know better, taking pics with the flash on.
Drank: Nothin’.
