Tash Sultana is an unclassifiable multi-talented virtuoso musician, and they take us through another incredible journey of mind and spirit. The last concert of a long global road trip.
To paraphrase, I have been on the road for many years, I have sold millions of tickets around the world, it is time to rest, reflect and re-energise.
But it is their psychic and psychedelic trip that we are privileged to be on this Soul Train.
Sultana was born and raised in Melbourne. Their family are of Maltese descent. They were given a guitar by their grandfather when they were three. That is some serious prescience.
They were voracious in seeking out open mic evenings.
They played in a band called Mindpilot at one stage. There was obvious a ferocious drive and ambition.
They came to attention in busking the great streets of Melbourne. They were always heading for the toppermost of the poppermost.
The opening songs tumble out with a collage of elements. A little Reggae rhythm to start. The bass rumbles through the sub-strata. Funky keyboard waves and a smoking saxophone. Channelling through the classic Motown Funk and politics of Norman Whitfield’s 1968 period Temptations.
Pretty Lady is smooth as velvet neo-Soul, where their incredible 5 octave range is unleashed for the first time. The high note slices through your head like a laser.
They take the helium voice of Cyndi Lauper to stratospheric peaks.
Crop Circles begins with lounge jazz piano, before a three-piece band appear. Drums, bass and keyboards. They do not appear to add any extra to their sound at first, but that does change. Sultana convulses and shakes like they are possessed by the spirit of Angus Young.
The tone is psychedelic Pop Soul with diverse elements stitched in for at least half of the show.
When they get to shred, it immediately sends incendiary nerve impulses through your backbone. Electric, acoustic and mandolin.
Jungle is just stunning and miraculous. The crowd react and for some reason get very noisy. They make for a wonderful spectacle from up high in the stands, as they are packed like sardines and seem to be in some nirvana state.
He is Australian, quite humble and self-effacing, and he quickly wins the steadily growing audiences’ approval with his bright sunny Folk Pop.
Botts is playing an acoustic guitar, and his mate Ben is playing electric.
In similar fashion to Sultana, they were both busking extensively before they got together and gained attention.
He can sound like the Paul Simon of the Seventies. Bright, bouncing rhythms and close to the effervescence of Bubble Gum.
Gypsy is quite hot power pop with guitar riffs like the Doobie Brothers and a Buddy Holly gallop.
Botts is immediately likeable and is possibly hitting an uptick for bigger success.
All Our Love is a little tougher. There is R’n’B guitar and little snarling. Shades of Bob Dylan in the mid Sixties and Beat poet lyrics.
Tash Sultana ends with Blackbird. It is an epic show all by itself. Spanish acoustic guitar. Then spooky tones echoing the Doors The End. Dynamics keep shifting and morphing. Fast flamenco and Middle Eastern tones. Dick Dale as spiritual avatar.
This cycles around with increasing energy as if Tash Sultana has become possessed.
They have. We have. A masterpiece can never be finished. It can only be abandoned!
Rev. Orange Peel
Photographs by Leonie Moreland
Tash Sultana
Jack Botts
