Live Review: Dom Flemons

A couple of hundred revellers, most of them on the far side of middle age, cram into benches that run along the perimeter of the Circus Ronaldo tent in the festival village. The tent is a small and sparse but rustically elegant space that wouldn't be much good for an elephant riding a bicycle or a trapeze artist, but it lends itself nicely to live performance.

Carolina's Dom Flemons calls himself the American Songster and travels the globe playing all manner of different American folk music styles and this afternoon we're treated to a wild journey through traditonal American fare that's thrillingly diverse in nature, but held together beautifully by Flemons charm and aptitude.

Starting off with a rendition of He's In The Jailhouse Now on banjo, Flemons' playing sounds rough around the edges – at first it feels like this is simply because he's not that great a player, but this is soon proven to be entirely untrue. In fact, Flemons is virtuosic in every sense of the word, but he believes in playing with heart and authenticity more than fluid modern proficiency and it's an endearing trait that sets him apart.

He switches to guitar for one of just a few originals next with San Francisco Baby before showing his incredible piedmont picking skills on Thomas Dorsey's hokum track But They Got It Fixed Right On. Perhaps Flemons most brilliant moment of the show follows as he pulls out a set of cow bones – two short ribs and two shins – and uses them as a clacking percussion as he plays harp and hollers through The Poplin Family's Cindy Gal.

The dour Yonder Comes The Blues, a Ma Rainey blues from 1926, takes the mood down before it's lifted right back up again with Rabbit Brown's James Alley Blues, which Flemons plays on guitar in his own songster tuning. Throughout the show Flemons explains every little detail about what he's doing, why he's doing it and where the music he is playing originates from, making this as much an educational experience as an entertaining one.

He refers to Jim Jackson's old medicine show number Bye Bye, Policeman as “old time hip hop” and Socratic folk singing, and perhaps gets into the foot stomping percussion a little too much as he breaks the chair he's sitting on in the process. Eck Robertson's curiously titled instrumental There's A Brown Skin Girl Down The Road Somewhere is adapted from fiddle to harp and then Flemons manages to pull yet another instrument out of his arsenal, strapping on the quills to play Henry Thomas' Charmin' Betsy.

He says he wrote I Can't Do It Anymore to be as evil as possible, sadly he's fallen flat here – it's doesn't grab us at all – but he recovers with another original, the brilliantly despressing Looks Like Another Lonely Moon, the best original track he plays this afternoon. His well-known version of Papa Charlie Jackson's Your Baby Ain't Sweet Like Mine almost falls apart when a banjo string goes way out of tune, but Flemons doesn't let it, another sad original – the touring inspired Too Long I've Been Gone – leaves one last tinge of sadness before Flemons closes on the jaunty Have I Stayed Away Too Long?

The fact we've not seen Flemons' Carolina Chocolate Drops down here before still pains fans of American folk music, but hopefully two sold out shows as a part of Sydney Festival will mean Flemons will be back – possibly with band in tow – at some stage soon. But even if it's just him again, don't miss the chance to be educated and entertained by musical traditions we simply have to keep alive.