For a generation obsessed with imitating the past, Kitty, Daisy & Lewis do it better than most. A cheeky perve at the Billboard crowd last Wednesday night suggests the Durham siblings have inspired a plethora of Brill-creamed quaffed gents and red-lipped rockabilly queens. You really can’t get any cooler than the terribly attractive trio from Kentish Town, UK. They are joined on stage by their uber suave parents; Papa Graeme (or Daddy Graz) and Mama Ingrid (who just happens to be the ex-drummer of the Raincoats). Imitation is probably the wrong word to describe their fondness for ’40s, ’50s and ’60s music and culture. It’s more of a way of life; their dress sense is impeccable, they record 100% on analogue equipment and rarely lapse into caricature during their live set. In the country for the Byron Bay Bluesfest and Boogie, they are supported by Mojo Juju, the tough-as-nails tomboy endowed with a voice much like the great Odetta. The Melbournian is joined by three dapper lads sporting razor-era threads (woo woo). Kitty, Daisy & Lewis are still touring tracks from their debut album, Smoking In Heaven which was released in 2011. Messing With My Life and Don’t Make A Fool Out Of Me are crowd favourites along with a trundle of tracks that show off their eclectic musical stylings. From blues, swing and R&B to scorching surf rhythms and honky tonk howlers, there’s no shortage of genre representation. Middle sibling Lewis is obviously the mastermind of the operation and his confidence has grown tremendously since their appearance at the Big Day Out last year. It is characterised by a new tune; a sexy blues dirge where he coaxes a lover to “throw a leg over me”. Daisy and Kitty are the sass and sex behind his mad genius. Daisy bounces like the Energiser bunny on drums and keys, while Kitty shines as resident harmonica player in a shy yet sultry way. All three play musical chairs with their instruments, but it’s on lead electric guitar that Lewis belongs. His solos are like a riotous Bill Haley bonanza. They are twice joined on stage by Jamaican trumpeter Eddie ‘Tan Tan’ Thornton who infuses in a little ska flavour to the evening. For a band that captures the energy of a smoky jazz bar circa 1940, not a lot of crowd members get their groove on. There are peaks in enthusiasm though, especially during the cover of Canned Heat’s Going Up The Country. They top the night off with three encores, the finale being Johnny Horton’s Mean Son Of A Gun. Songs like that have obviously inspired the dark-haired trio. While they most certainly come across as authentic, their schtick could quickly become old if new material isn’t released soon. Having said that, I can’t walk away without developing a huge crush on all three – oh, and their Dad.
BY ADELAIDE FRENCH
LOVED: A dapper Mr Durham Snr gettin’ down and dirty on electric guitar.
HATED: Dance, people, dance!
DRANK: “What’s your cheapest beer?”
