The folklore surrounding Sixto Rodriguez has made his life the stuff of fiction. A downtrodden, working class crooner forgotten in his own country, he was completely oblivious to the legions of fans he was garnering in South Africa and Australia. A lot of those fans mistakenly thought he had committed suicide while on stage after releasing his second album Coming From Reality in 1971 and with that knowledge, he was lost and celebrated like a mysterious uncle you never really got to know. However, through the efforts of two South African fans, Stephen Segerman and Craig Bartholomew Strydom, those rumours were quashed and he finally emerged triumphantly to his adoring fans.
That story was told in the successful 2012 documentary Searching For Sugarman which probably added a few more million fans to the Rodriguez army. I’m not ashamed to say I’m one of those new disciples so the nostalgia felt by the many that grew up with his albums in the ‘70s is lost on me. This by no means makes Rodriguez less powerful as his show never reeked of that artist squeezing out the last cent out of his songs to try and hold on to his glory days. It’s a funny thing, at the ripe age of 72, these could possibly be Rodriguez’s glory days.
Donned all in black with top hat flattening his long hair, Rodriguez emerged out of the shadows led to his microphone by hand due to the glaucoma he now suffers. Backed by guitarist Brett Adams, bassist Maree Thom and drummer Pete Wilkins, Rodriguez opened with an unusual choice in Jefferson Airplane’s Somebody To Love. It’s not the only cover of the evening with Rodriguez adding his blue collar crooning to Carl Perkins’ Blue Suede Shoes, Frank Sinatra’s I’m Gonna Live Till I Die and Little Richard’s Lucille. Between each song, Rodriguez and his band take a minute to assumedly chat about what song’s next, giving the audience a chance to scream their love which doesn’t take long to become drunken heckles. No matter how lewd the audience becomes, however, Rodriguez replies with a smile and in his unassuming gentle voice says, “I know it’s the drink, but I love you back.” It’s a testimony to his music schooling in the dive bars he lists in A Most Disgusting Song which doesn’t appear in the set.
At many points during his show, the listener is transported to the dirty downtrodden world Rodriguez inhabited for so long and still does through Crucify Your Mind, I Wonder and Establishment Blues. His standout track Sugar Man is reworked and isn’t instantly recognisable as Rodriguez plays a flamenco-inspired guitar riff before the crowd ruptures at the first line. The song builds into a towering psychedelic blaze of electric guitar provided by lead man Adams and finishes with Rodriguez taking off his hat to each member of the band. Nostalgia is one thing but is easily trumped by discovery and for those of us who weren’t there in the beginning, we’re lucky both Rodriguez and us were given a second chance.
BY RHYS MCRAE
Loved: Rodriguez taking the time to be led off stage and then back on for his encore.
Hated: Put your fucking phones away, you stains.
Drank: Nada.
