The atmosphere was expectant and eager as people began to
gather at the San Gaetanu Band Club, Hamrun. The music hall of the band club
was lit red with (leftover?) Christmas lights and decorations, including festa streamers. I wonder if anybody
recalled the brothels of Amsterdam and Paris. However, the warm
light and body heat of the several hundred in the audience created a comforting
atmosphere which set the tone for opening band Stalko to take the stage.
Stalko were, as usual, bloody good. Their album launch last November was an absolute success; the band now performs with confidence that
they have proved themselves to the Maltese music scene. The
lads are just as good without an 11-piece orchestra behind them, teasing their
audience in the same bashful manner. The intimacy of the venue, the really tiny
stage and curious red light allowed them to perform as they would in their
living rooms. The result: a strong, confident, intimate version of Stalko that
suits their sound and tone very well.
Stalko was followed by young French singer Freschard, who sometimes accompanies Stanley Brinks in his performances. She started singing to an
almost empty hall, and post-opening song enquired, rather bewildered, “Can you
hear me?” Unfortunately many had left the hall in search of alcohol and an
outdoor smoking area and so missed Freschard’s first couple of songs. However
the crowd did return. Freschard worked well as the intermediary between
Stalko’s powerful moodiness and Stanley Brinks’ lyrical mastery. Her music was
rather repetitive, layering smooth French-accented vocals over guitar chords
(played by Brinks). Sometimes the guitar took over and put the vocals to shame.
However, Freschard reclaimed the audience with her final song “Johnny
Boy” that moulded her pretty lyrics into a cute nursery-rhyme. Part spoken,
part sung, this song with a story was more upbeat anti-folk that suited
Mademoiselle Freschard.
Stanley Brinks is a little hard to categorise – it is too
easy to call his music anti-folk. To call him a singer-songwriter is accurate
but far too general. I think SB is a crooner. He is comfortable on stage alone
with his sexy red guitar, but welcomes members of the audience to join him.
(However, despite the best efforts of one man and three girls, SB sounds far
better when he sings alone.) From the first song, Brinks dives in with complex
symbolic lyrics, at times recalling the sadness of Jeff Mangum of Neutral Milk
Hotel in his more melancholy ballads. The highlight of the gig was the
performance of ‘Jean-Marie Camilleri’, a Beatles-esque pop song about a Maltese
girl on the ferry to Valletta,
which turned the audience into giggling patriots.
The honesty of Brinks’ lyrics suggests that they might be
autobiographical, however the extent of any embellishment is uncertain. His
words are witty, charming, and romantic; especially in songs like the
hairdresser song and ‘Heavy Metal’ where the earnest vocals force the listener
to search for truth.
Stanley Brinks has a ‘Malta connection’, having lived on
our island a year ago and become enchanted. The Maltese influence is strong in
his latest album, named ‘Hafna Xita’ (this translates to ‘a lot of rain’ in
Maltese). The story of this curious French/Swedish folk singer is rather unusual.
Stanley Brinks is one of many stage names of performer Andre Herman Dune,
formerly of band Herman Dune. A man who enjoys going with the flow of things,
Dune adopted his current stage name when he was mistaken for somebody else by
the name of Stanley Brinks, and in order not to disappoint, accepted this new
identity and built upon it. Brinks is something of a nomad, having traveled
and lived around the world. For the moment, he is calling our little island
home.
When - 19th January 2013
Where - San Gaetanu Band Club, Hamrun
Who - Stanley Brinks, Freschard, Stalko
Price - 10e
