December 13, 2024

Hopetoun Brown – Whammy Bar: December 12, 2024

Hopetoun Brown along with special guest Finn Scholes raised the temperature even higher at Auckland’s Whammy Bar last night. The 13th Floor’s Diana Phillips and Joel Leong were there and their words and pictures are here.

Tonight was a meltingly humid night in Auckland. I remember thinking as I mopped my brow on the way into the intimate black basement of Whammy Bar that it felt entirely apropos for the NOLA Blues/Jazz inspired Hopetoun Brown. I expected to catch a whiff of magnolia trees to accompany the powerful and sultry tones of vocals and horns punctuated by claps and stomps by these three Auckland natives. The band is made up of Tim Stewart on lead vocals, trumpet, drum pedal, and trombone along with Nick Atkinson on a stunning bass clarinet. Tonight they were joined by Finn Scholes and the impressive ease with which he slid from tuba to trumpet to xylophone to keys.

Hopetoun Brown

The setlist was a good mix of their last few albums, largely from Don’t Let Them Lock You Up and Burning Fuse, as well as some banging singles such as Put It Down. Hopetoun Brown really shines when they are live; while the production on their albums can alter the feel of the songs and even push envelopes when it comes to genre, their live performance cuts out any distraction, leaving one relishing in the echoes of every stomp. When I was listening to Let’s Not Be Friends at home, it felt as though they were skating the lines towards pop, but that same song done live had much more depth to it, funkily hinting at southern American protest songs mixed with clever lyrics that kind of reflected contemporary Tinder culture, bringing a smart juxtaposition to a head in that fourth song. Nick then introduced them and took a few moments to establish a lovely rapport with the audience, announcing that they were just going to do one set, and that they would “play until our lips turn purple.”

By the fifth song, Scholes had slipped over to the xylophone, which gave a haunting transition into the old classic, St. James Infirmary Blues. His ability to shift instruments with such ease gave the impression of each instrument being possessed by him, building to chills and then slipping furtively onto the next. Stewart’s warm tenor combined with Atkinson’s steady hand on the bass clarinet allowed the whole venue to be laden with an ethereal and sometimes funereal hum. I found myself waiting for that foot to drop into a stomp and break the spell.

When they got to Put It Down, much of the audience was singing along, and the catharsis in the room was palpable. The lyrics lend themselves to that, betraying their emotional intelligence and a sense of deep caring. Stewart was able to further express that by conducting a call and response with the small but very engaged audience. Hearing that brought back collective memories; as a Black American woman, the poignancy and history of the call and response in southern culture was hearkened to brilliantly by these Aucklanders.

Throughout the set, the keys would reverberate over the top of the horns, sometimes with an early 80’s R&B vibe, sometimes like an organ in church of hymnals on mushrooms. A little further in, Tim finally busts out his trombone, which had been placed teasingly on centre stage. I’d been looking forward to that; he has a way of vocally reaching for some nebulous depth or other, and then creating his own resolution for it in the low slide of the trombone. It was like witnessing his own personal call and response, two facets of himself working out some lively demons (that were only kept in line by Scholes hitting the highs on the trumpet like the lash of a whip) and then feeding the audience the ensuing catharsis.

Hopetoun Brown

There were lots of good solos that didn’t feel too long, and they all supported one another in showcasing their individual talents and then flawlessly coming together in taut harmony. Some low and slow moments took the audience for a ride on a lazy river boat, and I suddenly found myself longing for a hurricane and a bowl of gumbo. Just then the song closed out with a hum and a heartbeat, a reckoning with a little nudge of memento mori; that the lazy river we’d been obliviously floating on was actually the Styx.

I’m unsure as to whether it was the fact that Hopetoun Brown hits my ears differently when live, or that there was an evolution, a maturity gained over time since their last release, but I heard Stewart’s rich vibrato a little differently tonight, and the way he uses it to pull the band into synchronicity. His voice is like the proverbial rug that pulls the room together, and you somehow know that the room is a cement practice studio with egg crate walls. That maturity allows him enough cred to lyrically point out bits of the ailing human condition, leading out of despondency and hopelessness into catharsis, while Scholes brought a frenetic wail out of that trumpet and Atkinson held it down with lows that clutch at your spine. And yet somehow it all felt rather like a group hug. This was some damn fine front stoop music.

The encore showed off their ability to shift into classical and back to blues with Down The Misty, a great way to bring about the close. It had the satisfying feeling of having an after dinner cigarette in the church parking lot. They then switched gears and ended with the whole place singing along to their cover of Sweet Dreams.

Hopetoun Brown is somehow able to make a three man band sound like an eleven piece brass band, and what fills the gap in between is purely aural; the space between clap and stomp is brimming with magnetic presence. Their coolness abounds, which was a tasty antidote to the sticky hotness of Auckland tonight.

Diana Phillips

Click on any image to view a photo gallery by Joel Leong: