Everything about this Francolin gig was blissful. Sandwiched in a weekend of gigs – entrée of Ingrid Michaelson Thursday, a decadent, rich chocolate desert of Rufus Wainwright (literally the fourth best Wainwright) on Saturday – Francolin served up a perfect main course. They have a sound that is both familiar to the ear while being unique to them alone. A mariachi vampire weekend mix with a smudge of Paul Simon’s Graceland, some Chris Rea, remove the violin from Noah and the Whale and add a trumpet and you will start to get the idea.
They sounded great in the John Curtin Bandroom on Friday night, attracting the kind of crowd in which you are likely to see multiple guys in bow ties. The only way it could be hipper would be if the band called themselves Francolin using punctuation – Fran: – but happily, they don’t. Apologies must go out to Kieran Ryan, the gig was billed as a double headline, however I only arrived in time to see him packing up and am unable to give him the high praise those in the crowd I asked said would be deserved.
Francolin opened with a piece of unadulterated ragtime shuffle joy, When I Get To Heaven. They rattle through their album, The Hospital Song, with its infectious double handclaps, War On Sumer, Singinging and so on. Their tracks are bright, breezy and bounce along with the enthusiasm of a labrador puppy. If Ball Park Music were younger and funner (and Ball Park Music are both very young and very fun), they would be Francolin. They are playing with reinforcements tonight, having added the youngest horn section I have ever seen, who appear to be brothers. Sadly I was unable to spot their parents, who I assume had to accompany them into the 18 plus venue. However, when they join second lead vocalist and lead trumpeter Aaron Silver in a three-part horn harmony, they are perfection. Lead singer and songwriter, Staffan Guinane has a great ear for a tune and an easy way on stage. An all round, polished, professional, top quality outfit who will do very well, very soon, so get along to a show. As the title of their album suggests, Francolin won’t let you down – six out of a possible five.
BY JACK FRANKLIN
LOVED: The lovely door staff, when the old faithful, “My name is on the door, I’m from Beat,” resulted in my name not being on the door, they took me at my word like gentlemen and waved me through.
HATED: Not one thing – well maybe the bow ties.
DRANK: Pints, always pints.
