Live Review: Rodriguez, The Break

A musical sommelier somewhere out there made the divine match of pairing up local surf music band The Break with Sixto Rodriguez.  Who would have thought?  Before the latter's appearance, The Break warms up the audience at Hamer Hall with a sophisticated and urgent rhythm that perfectly captures the adrenalin rush of tube riding the waves, baked skin and salt sprays. Consisting of former band members from Midnight Oil, Hunters & Collectors, and Violent Femmes, the accomplished team of Jim Moginie (guitar/theremin/keyboards); Rob Hirst (drums), Brian Ritchie (bass/vocals); Martin Rotsey (guitar); and Jack Howard (trumpet) display assured talent and control in their immersive compositions.  A slight nod to the Beach Boys' guitar rifts, a good dose of Mariachi trumpeting (as in the cover of Dick Dale's Misirlou), and the pushing of boundaries with the theremin – The Break provides refined nostalgia without the clichés.

With the assistance of a stagehand, Rodriguez is gingerly led onstage in his trademark collarbone-length black hair, large shades and felt hat.  Even past 70 years of age, he can still rock a good pair of black leather pants and a sleeveless black vest.  Despite international fame from the recent multiple award-winning documentary Searching for Sugar Man and a huge revival of the only two albums he ever released in the early 1970s before 'disappearing', Rodriguez is incredibly modest and ever so embarrassed by the capacity crowd tonight.  When prompted by a fan, he acknowledges with a self-deprecating grin, “I prefer to be called Rodriguez, and I want to be known as an ordinary 'legend' “.

The Break reappear in matching black wardrobe and provide deft transposition in instrumental backing, beautifully underscoring the haunting melodies of Rodriguez's songs.  He falters slightly in the opening numbers – his vocals sometimes too gentle and indiscernible.  But he soon recovers as the night progresses, particularly in I Wonder, To Whom It May Concern, Sugar Man, Can't Get Away and Forget It.  His rendition of Cole Porter's Just One Of Those Things is understated and more memorable than the original, and he enjoys a playful moment with a cover of Blue Suede Shoes.  His voice may never match the powerful, stirring heights captured in his records, but there are still many moments where he gives us long vistas into his glory days:  his dextrous fingers effortlessly strumming his guitar, the timeless prose of his lyrics, a generation's worth of harmonies.  It is a life affirming performance from a truly humble legend.