Having seen André Herman Dune play under his now not so new guise of Stanley Brinks around six months ago I was eager to make this show at the Jug of Ale in Moseley. Previously, Brinks had played a lengthy, poignant and static set, just himself and a half sized travel style guitar, sans microphone. It was a beautiful experience, but upon entering the dingy upstairs room of the South Birmingham-based pub, barely occupied, this was already beginning to tell a very different story.

Despite the low attendance, it was still pleasing to know that the people who were there would appreciate the show more than a room full of casual listeners and the crowd provided all three acts with a respectful silence throughout songs, and rapturous applause afterwards.

The line up was Freschard, The Purple Organ and Stanley Brinks - that’s two-thirds French and one-third American. It was an interesting mix, but however separate the acts looked on the flyer, each set would be run together full of collaboration and group performance.

Now, Freschard and Brinks have worked together before. The covers album ‘Kreuzberg Café’ was put out by the two under Brinks’ former moniker a few years ago and was a very simple but moving tribute to artists such as Leonard Cohen and Will Oldham. As for The Purple Organ, apparently he was the bassist with New Yorkers Dufus. It was certainly no surprise, really.

The night started pretty late, with Freschard and Brinks taking the stage to run through a number of low-key whimsies to showcase Freschard’s very pretty and heavily accented vocal. The pair certainly looked like they were having fun, a small crowd being no deterrent, more of a blessing as Brinks enjoyed lying down in the cavernous space in between performing duties.

The crowd was set to shrink even further when an un-introduced, nameless Frenchman joined the pair on yet another guitar, as well as The Purple Organ, on… well, it was almost a guitar…. Covered in tin foil, it looked battered and almost unplayable. The Purple Organ fiddled around for a bit before a pre-recorded drum track came through the speakers. The foursome then proceeded to play some beautiful songs with catchy, sing a-long choruses to which they all joined in. Noticeably, the Purple Organ decided not to play guitar, leading to bemusement as he continued to tap away on his guitar as if waiting for his cue. It never came.

It took me a little too long, I suspect, to realise that it wasn’t a pre-recorded drum track and that The Purple Organ had built himself an extremely nifty drum machine, via his guitar. Eventually moving his hands up the neck of the guitar, he held down single strings to produce bass notes. This was some very cool piece of kit, layering Freschard’s songs oh so poignantly.

After a few more accompanied songs, all performers returned to the floor except The Purple Organ. Apparently the acts were choosing not to break pace during this show. Opening with a short drum/bass note track ‘Witches of the West’, the songs were clearly to be far more energetic than either of the other performances.

At times The Purple Organ’s voice, though highly competent, shied away a little too much and was slightly inaudible. That is until he played his next song.

At this point, I’d like to say, I was fully unprepared for the weirdness of this. If a guy with massive dreads, quite a pretty voice, playing an electric guitar drum machine combo with a bass drum pedal, attached to a crash instead of a bass drum wasn’t weird enough, he then decided to tell us a story.

Dominatrix girlfriends, making out with a dog and said girlfriend’s responsive sexual areas getting “like, really moist” was described in quite intricate detail before saying, “this song is about that” then proceeding to play a song that was probably a little bit too long due to aggressive padding through sexual noises. However crass, the small audience were still resorted to childish fits of giggles in between onslaughts. Certainly a set - even a show - highlight.

As with Freschard, The Purple Organ was eventually joined by the other three performers for set closer ‘I Shit My Pants in the Garden of the Luxemburg’, a superb sing-along that saw smiles on both performers and audience alike.

Again, a quick changeover later and Stanley Brinks was left alone, but with the unnamed Frenchman to work through a set of unrecognised songs. This time sporting a small electric guitar instead of acoustic, he barely strummed his way through a strong set of tracks. Highly prolific, yet still without an official release aside from tour promo albums, it was harder to connect to these songs. On previous viewing there was a lot more narrative and intimacy, whereas on this night it was an unfortunately short set with low impact.

Brinks was also joined with previous performers and this became his own set highlight, giving a well needed boost. Unfortunately, on the whole and compared to the other acts, this set wasn’t quite as intense as it could have been. This is only incidental as the next time Brinks plays he will play an entirely different set that may or may not be the best show you will ever see. Huge ability, hugely unpredictable.

But overall this night was one of the best shows I’ve seen in the last few years – great communication between acts and a true sense of community in a dingy, out of the way area of the country’s second city. Promoters should take more risks: this type of show shouldn’t be so rare.

Of course, a memento was needed for this night, and in the end it was The Purple Organ who won out in the record buying stakes. “Look,” I said. “It’s got all the classics here: ‘Death Metal Pussy Clamp’, ‘Canine Love Affair’ and even ‘Pussy Willows of Lake Ti Ti Ca Ca’”.

Words: Andy Price
Photos: Sarah Hall