Appearances can be deceptive. Take Jonatha Brooke, a singer/songwriter hailing from Los Angeles, who emerged for her intimate solo performance wearing an outfit perfectly co-ordinated with her acoustic guitar. In a polo-neck of fret-board black, and hipsters the same flame-orange hue of the instrument, Brooke seemed the epitome of a self-conscious folk musician.
As soon as she started to play, however, she dismissed any such assumptions. Co-ordinated they may have been, but Brooke and her guitar were far from matching. In a stripped-down acoustic performance, the instrument furnished its player with a frequently changing resonance, as Brooke demonstrated intriguing alternate tunings. Meanwhile her remarkable voice rose high above the rasp of those carefully manipulated strings.
Secrets and Lies began Brooke's repertoire of songs laced with cynical lyrics and catchy guitar hooks. Her vocals were confident and crystal clear, delivered with a control that belied the power lurking below the surface. A moody Nothing Sacred and a caustic Glass Half Empty snarled out before Brooke engaged in witty repartee with her audience. "So, congratulations on the soccer, y'know," babbled Brooke, concealing her sharp wit behind casual innuendos, before explaining the impulses behind her tunes.
An affecting So Much Mine, originally written for her now defunct band The Story, delicately imagined the heartbreak of parenthood, revisiting The Wizard of Oz for its imagery. If Brooke can identify so touchingly with a subject of which she has no experience, you don't want to know where the dark power struggle of Red Dress has originated.
What ultimately elevates Brooke beyond folk miserabilism is a sense of prevailing against strife - present in her performance, if not the lyrics. While her guitar supplied growling tones to songs about lovelorn depression, mutated relationships, bitterness and regret, it was her voice that always heralded salvation.
