Live Review: James Vincent McMorrow

The rambunctious crowd were packed in like sardines, clutching their canned beer in excitement. A humble image in the form of James Vincent McMorrow took to the stage with sentimental acoustic strumming and stunned the throng with a flawless falsetto.
McMorrow began with tracks from his folk-driven album, Early In The Morning, peppered with the telltale country twang emanating from the lap steel.
The atmosphere suddenly shifted as dark bass began to ring throughout the venue. The second single to be released from his new album, Red Dust, was tender and soulful – it was a folk and R&B hybrid, a sound that McMorrow seemed to pull off seamlessly throughout the evening. His vocals resonated in sweet surrender, arranged with an atmospheric minimal electro beat.
Glacier featured sombre keyboard, turning the jovial atmosphere into solemn reverence within seconds. An apt depiction of winter, the tinkling keyboard, stunning percussion and succinct backing vocals flowed effortlessly.
The humour of James Vincent McMorrow was not lost on the crowd. As he was tuning his guitar between songs, he somehow burst out into a rendition of Bump N' Grind by R Kelly. He seemed to have the punters in the palm of his hand.
We Don't Eat was the crowd favourite, as they all sang along in thrilled dedication. A steady build-up of instruments connected with tender lyrics, although the real treat came when McMorrow took to a fevered drum solo while simultaneously crooning.
The first single off his new album, Post Tropical, stunned the throng with its sensuality and dark undertones. Cavalier was cold and aloof with glittering synth, gritty bass and harmonic keyboard. The set was inspired, raw, and would leave the revelers picking up their hearts as they fell out onto the busy Sydney streets.