music #9: Renny Field and Kent Eastwood, Live at a House in Collaroy
DRAFT: photos, links and editing to come. What? What's that? The sound of a deadline, flying over head..
There are very few musicians that can claim that opening for Woodstock was not the highlight of their career. In the eyes of those who stayed for the midnight-snack-esque nature of the private encore in the family lounge room, Renny Field and Kent Eastwood just kept getting better and better as the night wore on into early morning. The clouds drifted heavily above the canopy of wisteria and rigged-up marquees, shielding the forty-strong audience from the possibility of rain. As the day gently settled into evening and Renny opened with ‘Wheel of Fortune’, the guests and hosts of the house concert were glad that for all their worries the rain would not interrupt one minute of the laidback, intimate evening. Although both Eastwood and Field are regulars at Manly’s Fig and Cronulla’s Brass Monkey, this was the first time they’d played such an intimate setting in the home of a few of their greatest appreciators and friends.
Arriving mid-afternoon to set up his gear in the northern beaches abode, Field was himself, relaxed and happy to be in a place where the assembled crowd were to gather to support him and Eastwood. Unloading his gear in jeans and thongs, Field was every bit the down-to-earth independent muso with a real love for music that everyone anticipated him to be. Having just returned from northern New South Wales, where he’d been holed up with Eastwood writing tracks for his fourth album, both were fresh faced beneath their caps. On first impression, Field possessed the same ambiguously Australian-American-British accent, as uplifting as Californian-born Brett Dennan. When Field’s ‘keyboard bro’ for the evening Eastwood stepped away from the keys and took up a guitar atop a cajon drum, he revealed himself to be a fascinating combination of country, roots and blues with the few songs he treated his late-night audience to.
After a comfortable start to the evening with the guests arranged around the patio-stage on a variety of lounge cushions and picnic blankets, Field began with a friendly narration of his travels through Ireland and India, stories of the ups and downs that uniquely flavoured his songs. After playing a few new songs that they recorded together earlier this year, including ‘Don’t Make Me Wait Too Long’, they performed a wonderful cover of Crowded House’s ‘Fall At Your Feet’, which Field jokingly said was for those ‘who wouldn’t have a clue who they’re watching’. At that point, however, if guests had attended without prior knowledge of Field or Eastwood, they were leaving with the impression that raw talent and solidity of character leaves on a person. Both Field and Eastwood maintained a steady tap-tap, tap-tap on the ground with their shoes and thongs as they played in time with the steady dub-dub of my heart.
‘The Birds’ began to draw the performance to the end with its cheeky rhythm, reminiscent of an enthusiastic waltz with a slight French feel to the underlying bounce of the song. As the outdoor concert drew to a close, Eastwood left the patio for Field to return again to the keyboard he left behind for much of his domestic and international tour to play us ‘Flying’, ‘just a soft song about nothing’, and finished on ‘One More Song’, reserved for the happy times when the end of the gig just seems to have come entirely too fast. One more song is all that’s left, so I guess that’ll have to do.
As it turned out, after a screening of Woodstock(1969) in which everyone gathered around a tie-dyed Joe Cocker performing ‘A Little Help From My Friends’ , drank some ginger beer and ate some chicken, the guests that remained retired to the lounge and dining and were treated to an impromptu encore with the family’s own piano, cajon and guitar, tying off what was a shiver-inducing few hours of the house concert. Eastwood played a few of his own songs from his album ‘Through the Days’, surprising many with the warmth of his unexpected country-style vocals and knack for the cajon drum. It was evident that there was very little - if anything - that Field and Eastwood couldn’t do on a relaxed Sunday evening in a backyard that many artists can only accomplish in a recording studio. It’s easy to tell, when watching musicians such as these, what a real love of music is like. Needless to say, if the guests were unaware of who Renny Field and Kent Eastwood were before their Sunday afternoon sojourn, they would take with them the rarity of such an intimate and personal performance.
Renny Field and Kent Eastwood will be playing at the Sydney Opera Bar tonight from 8pm, free entry.
I'll edit with some links in a short time. Until then, some greatness:
There are very few musicians that can claim that opening for Woodstock was not the highlight of their career. In the eyes of those who stayed for the midnight-snack-esque nature of the private encore in the family lounge room, Renny Field and Kent Eastwood just kept getting better and better as the night wore on into early morning. The clouds drifted heavily above the canopy of wisteria and rigged-up marquees, shielding the forty-strong audience from the possibility of rain. As the day gently settled into evening and Renny opened with ‘Wheel of Fortune’, the guests and hosts of the house concert were glad that for all their worries the rain would not interrupt one minute of the laidback, intimate evening. Although both Eastwood and Field are regulars at Manly’s Fig and Cronulla’s Brass Monkey, this was the first time they’d played such an intimate setting in the home of a few of their greatest appreciators and friends.
Arriving mid-afternoon to set up his gear in the northern beaches abode, Field was himself, relaxed and happy to be in a place where the assembled crowd were to gather to support him and Eastwood. Unloading his gear in jeans and thongs, Field was every bit the down-to-earth independent muso with a real love for music that everyone anticipated him to be. Having just returned from northern New South Wales, where he’d been holed up with Eastwood writing tracks for his fourth album, both were fresh faced beneath their caps. On first impression, Field possessed the same ambiguously Australian-American-British accent, as uplifting as Californian-born Brett Dennan. When Field’s ‘keyboard bro’ for the evening Eastwood stepped away from the keys and took up a guitar atop a cajon drum, he revealed himself to be a fascinating combination of country, roots and blues with the few songs he treated his late-night audience to.
After a comfortable start to the evening with the guests arranged around the patio-stage on a variety of lounge cushions and picnic blankets, Field began with a friendly narration of his travels through Ireland and India, stories of the ups and downs that uniquely flavoured his songs. After playing a few new songs that they recorded together earlier this year, including ‘Don’t Make Me Wait Too Long’, they performed a wonderful cover of Crowded House’s ‘Fall At Your Feet’, which Field jokingly said was for those ‘who wouldn’t have a clue who they’re watching’. At that point, however, if guests had attended without prior knowledge of Field or Eastwood, they were leaving with the impression that raw talent and solidity of character leaves on a person. Both Field and Eastwood maintained a steady tap-tap, tap-tap on the ground with their shoes and thongs as they played in time with the steady dub-dub of my heart.
‘The Birds’ began to draw the performance to the end with its cheeky rhythm, reminiscent of an enthusiastic waltz with a slight French feel to the underlying bounce of the song. As the outdoor concert drew to a close, Eastwood left the patio for Field to return again to the keyboard he left behind for much of his domestic and international tour to play us ‘Flying’, ‘just a soft song about nothing’, and finished on ‘One More Song’, reserved for the happy times when the end of the gig just seems to have come entirely too fast. One more song is all that’s left, so I guess that’ll have to do.
As it turned out, after a screening of Woodstock(1969) in which everyone gathered around a tie-dyed Joe Cocker performing ‘A Little Help From My Friends’ , drank some ginger beer and ate some chicken, the guests that remained retired to the lounge and dining and were treated to an impromptu encore with the family’s own piano, cajon and guitar, tying off what was a shiver-inducing few hours of the house concert. Eastwood played a few of his own songs from his album ‘Through the Days’, surprising many with the warmth of his unexpected country-style vocals and knack for the cajon drum. It was evident that there was very little - if anything - that Field and Eastwood couldn’t do on a relaxed Sunday evening in a backyard that many artists can only accomplish in a recording studio. It’s easy to tell, when watching musicians such as these, what a real love of music is like. Needless to say, if the guests were unaware of who Renny Field and Kent Eastwood were before their Sunday afternoon sojourn, they would take with them the rarity of such an intimate and personal performance.
Renny Field and Kent Eastwood will be playing at the Sydney Opera Bar tonight from 8pm, free entry.
I'll edit with some links in a short time. Until then, some greatness:
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