Gig Watch: Ash Grunwald – Live at the Corner Hotel

By Chris Wood

Ash Grunwald

After much anticipation, the stage was set for Australia’s favourite Blues-man Ash Grunwald at the much heralded Corner Hotel.

With the threat of swine flu playing heavily throughout the news and the publics’ collective consciousness alike, the prospect of catching the dreaded pig cough and possibly dying did little to deter the Melbourne public from seeing the self-made scruffy swagman.

Ash Grunwald took to the stage as a solo entity in what can only be described as a combination white shirt and shorts stolen from Charlie Sheen on the deplorable, yet highly regarded Two and a Half Men.

*Please Note*

By referencing said program I am aware that I’m admitting to having at least watched it once before, and by doing so I am putting myself in the position where someone can use this omission as fodder for any argument I may have with them in the future.

Judging by the considerable size of the audience (a figure attained by calculating number of times I had to apologise for knocking people on the way back from the bar each time), Grunwald put on one of the more intimate performances I have witnessed recently.

Whether it was his inimitable charm, honest love of the music he was playing, or the aforementioned Charlie Sheen likeness, Ash had the crowd poised, never failing to deliver a knock out punch.

Although his songs can be as predictable as an episode of Scooby-Doo, they never really loose their appeal.

A bluesy romp intersected by a good old fashioned crescendo like hoe-down appears to be his signature approach to songwriting. Yet it doesn’t really suffer because of that. Also, I suppose it’s a little silly to criticise an entire musical genre that is essentially based on a three chord turnaround concept.

Early on in the set, Fish out of Water delivered the much needed hit to fix our pop-sugar levels. This is where the set began to really take focus.

At times you could sense that he would delve into his own introspective musical paradise, only to surprise us all by throwing down the gauntlet and begging us to join in whenever the song would deem it appropriate.

Such a tactic can deflate in such a horrible, and, needless to say, very public way. Yet Ash’s faith in his responsive audience paid off, with large selection of the audience seizing to opportunity to drunkenly blurt, "I’ve got to break out!" with minimal prompting.

The all too familiar evilness of Skywriter was enough to send the lively group in front of me into a blues induced trance, while Give Signs solidified Ash Grunwald’s worthiness as possibly Australia’s favourite dreadlocked musician (I suppose it’s out of him and Jason Whalley).

Is it just me, or do these songs have shades of Tom Waits about them? In particular, they kind of resemble Waits’ highly popular industrial sounds of "Goin’ Out West" and "Big In Japan".

The musical high-point of the night was saved for the chillingly ethereal Devil Called Me a Liar. On the surface this appears to resemble any other pulsating blues groove. Yet, as he bemoans pain and lost love, he transcends the barrier of body and spirit, very much in the same manner as the great blues-man of the past.

Overall, it was a highly admirable performance from the dreadlocked part-pioneer of the highly infectious blues-roots scene in Australia.

Without going over the top with gimmicky stage antics and pyrotechnics, Ash Grunwald just did what he has built his whole career on, and that’s playing a damn fine blues show. Add to that definition whatever roots-affiliated adjective you see fit. It doesn’t really have much bearing when you consider the awesome power a reputation such as Ash Grunwald’s.

On my ever-growing list of must see muso’s, I can certainly find a place for him.