On the back of the release of Spook-folk sweetheart Greta O’Leary’s latest singles Baby I’m a Singer and Baptised At The Home Computer, Greta and Fables are embarking on a bit Spring tour, with shows in Tamaki Makaurau and Poneke (and possible other gigs, too) this October. Tonight was their first stop.
Both have made waves on the national folk scene of late and rightly deserve equal share of the headlines with singer songwriters like Nadia Reid and Tiny Ruins.
Fables is primarily Jessica Bailey, sister of Bianca Bailey (Wiri Donna) and anybody else she can rope in (tonight that was Lawrence on cello). They write songs that marry up traditional folk with overtones of Americana and a hint of June Carter. Her penchant for Appalachian mountain-smock dresses certainly add to the flavour. Your mind instantly goes to Gillian Welch and Laura Marling.
Bailey and Lawrence kicked off the night somewhat hesitantly. No wonder, she’d been out of the scene since prior to Covid, raising a young family. So, this was Bailey’s ‘re-introduction’ to the stage and to Poneke. The last time she was here, it was at the old Third Eye bar, supporting Frank Burkett.
Following Bailey’s actual set-list was a little chaotic, with changes made on the fly, but once going we heard some potentially delicious versions of Notebook…, The Line and one call 40 Sleeps, which are introduced by reminiscing about her time as an art student. Unlike other tertiary education, assignments are only due at the end of the year. “So, you can imagine as this goes – chaos!”
Bailey’s dry self-deprecating humour and nervous energy is infectious. Despite her casual approach you can hear some major potential. Their voice is beautiful and songs like ‘We could be all’ are just beautiful. The latter contains my favourite line at the minute: “Symmetry won’t come easy to me; I’ve got liquid liner in my eye!”
The banter is nicely awkward and geeky yet endearing. A nod to Wiri Donna, who’s Stop Charades is No. 2 in the bFM charts this week and a description of a song as a ‘Venn diagram of yearning, pining and grieving.” “That’s a circle”, Lawrence chips in. “True,” they quip back, “Perfect to go on a tote bag!”
After a plug for her handmade collars (for your dress), T-shirts and hand-printed art, they complete with a gorgeous version of Someone I Know, helped out by some additional harmonies by Greta O’Leary.
Bailey and O’Leary have become fast friends of late, as we learn from Greta during her set. They’ve been hanging out in Tamaki Makaurau and singing together.
O’Leary takes the stage after a short break with an aching version of a new single, Baby I’m A Singer, which mentioned the crest-fallen life of a musician, including selling T-shirts. O’Leary actually confesses that the ones on the door were her own design. Hey, you gotta start somewhere. Actually, that was a bit of a theme with O’Leary. Referring to her notes, she says “I made notes – all I wrote was I struggle with basic conversation.” Later she’ll admit how painfully shy she was growing up and it's clear that behind her guitar is the most comfortable place for her.
Despite this, O’Leary tells some funny stories. She comments on the strange feeling of pride and yearning for anonymity when she sees someone watching a video of her whilst riding a bus in the Capital.
And then there’s all the videos of toddlers singing Baby I’m A Singer. “I seem to be a hit with the under 5’s!”
Accompanying O’Leary on stage is one man who needs no introduction. Jol Mulholland – producer and musician (Anika Moa, Neil Finn, Lawrence Arabia, etc.), quietly slinks on to play some silky slide guitar backing in most of O’Leary’s songs.
A highlight is a very new one called Baptised at the Desktop Computer based on a real story. Apparently, her father came home with a bottle of holy water, while she was playing the Sims computer game, "he thought the devil was in me."
The quirky upbeat song is a slight departure from her usual simple acoustic guitar-based songs, with the addition of a few ‘techy’ beats, courtesy of Mulholland. This is one of a suite of songs, says O’Leary to come from sessions with Mulholland and being ‘road-tested. That included one called River Dark, which is introduced as a "plunging into the darkness to find light."
Another from the suite, and my favourite, The Year Of The Dog, which also came with a quirky story, told slightly too graphically. O’Leary says she grew up on a farm with horses. When they died they fell and remained where they lay. Eventually a digger came and buried them, leaving a huge mound of fresh dirt. Her dog would climb up on to “survey her land”. This was essentially the plot of the song, with a wish to be like the canine – if only life was that simple, eh?
‘Here’s a song about hate. No a song about love.” Honey Babe is a nice, sweet love/hate love tune and comes just before a beautiful ballad called Greatest Peace. Apparently, this is Mulholland’s live piano playing debut. You wouldn’t know it. His treatment is delicate and sweet. O’Leary looks nervous as she stands ‘naked’ without her guitar, completely vulnerable. It’s another from their collab sessions and bound to be a favourite on the upcoming album.
To lighten the mood, Bailey joins O’Leary for the closer Good Girl, a potential nod to Greta’s religious family upbringing (?). Definitely a sense of quiet rebellion. It’s been a journey from painfully shy to where she is now. Greta O’Leary has a way to go to be truly self-confident on stage. But I’ll tell you this, she is a talent to watch. Her music is just stunning, poignant and relevant. This is intelligent folk-tinged songwriting. Her time with Mulholland, and other mentors like Tom Healy (Marlon Williams, Holly Arrowsmith) is paying dividends. She’ll be one to watch.
Photo Credit: Tim Gruar