Oh, The James Cabaret!

Friday is about music. With a playlist. Today I'm reminscing about one of Wellington's wonderful venues from the past. I loved this place.

Wellington’s venues were already dying. COVID hasn’t helped. There’s also pesky earthquake restrengthening. Also, sometimes a venue just shuts its doors. It’s a hard gig, fronting up and booking gigs – making the magic happen for us punters.

I don’t go to gigs as often as I used to – and I don’t feel I need to. I’m older, I’m nearly done with reviewing, I’ve seen just about everything, and I’m still adjusting to being back out in the wild after the lockdowns, um, locked us down. (And rightfully, by the way).

I’ve seen some good shows over the last few months though, and have been reminded of the power of a wonderful live act, so much so that I can never quite put the pen down – The Johnnys was a ripper, what a treat!

That almost certainly could have been a magical James Cabaret gig back in the day.

I loved The James Cabaret.

A sweatbox, with no windows, and in a residential space – so no all-nighters – you would always think back to the other gigs you saw there. All while standing and soaking up a great new show.

It had that one thing almost no other venue in Wellington ever had going for it – it was a dedicated performance space. The drinking was secondary. This was never a bar hoping to house a few acts on the side. Drinking was actually a pain in the arse at this venue. Shitty bar space, long queues. You gave up and focussed in on that great stage that hit your eyes as soon as you crossed through the doorway.

You’d see any kind of thing there: poetry, comedy, theatre, book launches, talks, lectures, drum clinics, solo performers and bands across every genre. I saw festival shows, I saw legendary names and the biggest local acts. I saw one-offs and repeat performers.

The sound was usually excellent.

I can’t remember the first gig I saw at the James Cabaret – but I saw some rippers. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve even – ever – seen what I could call a bad gig there. Well, there was probably one…there’s always one. There has to be one.

But mostly I saw brilliant shows. And I loved how you got to see a lot of great Kiwi acts strut and fret upon this stage. One of the very first times Bic Runga played a live gig. One of the very best of the Head Like A Hole reunion shows.

That amazing set from the Finn brothers in support of that wonderful Finn album; still just about the best thing either of them has done.

I saw Tony Joe White there a couple of times, the first time was one of my favourite concert experiences. It wasn’t packed but it was well-enough attended…and, from memory, Barry Saunders was the opening act. A great opening act too I should say. And most of the crowd was just parked up on the carpet, sitting, sprawling, relaxed. When the Swamp Fox sauntered to the stage a few people started to stand – he recommended we stay seated. He took requests right from the opening number, improvising a blues about flying into Wellington and then just taking the show from there…that drawl, that snake of guitar, big, big drums in back of him. Someone called out, very early on, for Polk Salad Annie. And Tony Joe drawled, without even looking up, “oh we gon’ do Polk!” It felt like I was in the tiniest club and he was playing just for me and a small handful of people. Compared to some places he’d played it would have been tiny, but it was packed and wonderful.

And I saw The Angels there – because I won a ticket in a phone-in competition back in the days of Pirate FM (R.I.P Derek, that mad, brilliant loon). I wasn’t any kind of massive Angels fan but damn that was a good show. Even pinched the setlist as I was right up the front, one of my first times heading along to a gig on my own.

One time at the James Cabaret I saw Tanya Donnelly finish her set with a spot-on cover of Time of The Season by The Zombies. That’s one of my all-time favourite songs. And it was one of the best covers.

Another time I sat, mouth agape, watching two sets by The Necks. Actually, one of the most profound musical experiences ever. I was front row. Nothing else in the world mattered but the sound those three musicians made. And in some ways I’ve been chasing after that sound ever since. I met and interviewed the band’s pianist, Chris Abrahams (he’s a Kiwi, born in Oamaru) live on air in Sydney with my buddy, Aussie music legend, Stuart Coupe. What a dream. How could I ever even think something like that might ever happen?!

And Suzi Ibarra, whose playing just blows me away whenever I hear her – ever since I got hooked on The David S. Ware Quartet album, Wisdom of Uncertainty – played a set with her Electric Kulingtang  project, and that turned out to be that special type of a show where you’re almost convinced you won’t get to hear your personal favourite piece, and then the act plays it!

Back when The Black Keys actually mattered, they were at their very best that night at the James Cab.

And I saw some very funny comedians there. Tommy Tiernan and Ed Byrne were barely any sort of names when I saw them – and loved them – on the stage of the James Cab. Both would return, many times, and fill much bigger venues on the back of those foundational shows. Bill Bailey started there too, in terms of his New Zealand performances.

Mem Shannon, a cool blues guitarist, was killer-good.

Oh, and there was that Paul Kelly gig I (mostly) saw there too, and somehow still remember…

Paul Brady. Neutral Milk Hotel. Shihad. Tim Finn. Mogwai. Mick Turner from The Dirty Three. Chali 2na. Aloe Blacc. Julia Deans. Charles Bradley. Stroma. Danny Brown. And that’s just a few. There were too many to remember. Between 1996 and 2016 I saw some of the best gigs ever in that tiny space. And such a range of styles.

One of the last gigs I saw there was Neneh Cherry. Incredible. Made all the better by the fact that my then three-year-old was a huge fan and she agreed to meet him at the soundcheck, since he couldn’t go to the show. I’d interviewed Neneh in the build up to the gig, part of her promotional rounds. And the promoter had kindly put in a word that my son was probably her youngest fan. Cherry met us that afternoon ahead of the show and shared a dance with my son while her band warmed up and checked their levels. She ran upstairs to find some blueberries to share with him because she knew that toddlers have meltdowns if snacks aren’t handy.

I could never forget that.

And so for that alone I could never forget The James Cabaret. (Also, what a gig!)

It was a great place to experience hip-hop too. In its final run, in particular, I saw Nas play his classic Illmatic in its entirety. I saw Earl Sweatshirt and Run The Jewels. These were wonderful shows. 

Because there were so many great gigs there.

(And also, one by Steve Smith and Vital Information).

I really miss that place.

Remembering, of course, that it’s Friday, I have put together Vol. 78 of the “A Little Something For The Weekend…Sounds Good” playlist. This one features mostly ‘new’ songs. No huge flashbacks here. And none of the names featured in this newsletter. Plenty of new things to discover hopefully.

Happy weekend all!