By Russell Baillie
Ani DiFranco, Karen Hunter
Powerstation, Tuesday, January 19.
Describe Ani DiFranco?
Well, imagine Alanis, but with a sense of humour, a real grounding in music, an emotional range, a political conscience, a DIY ethic, a certain goofy charm ...
Ok, scrub the Alanis comparison, it's not fair to anyone.
But DiFranco's audience - with a big showing from the gals who would have turned out for Michelle Shocked if it had been 10 years ago - know who they'd rather spend an evening with. And for a good reason too.
There's all of the above, as proved by the American singer-songwriter's performance before a big Powerstation audience. And much more in the best of the songs delivered during her 90-minute set.
I was coming to DiFranco cold - and curious because of the reputation that preceded her, and fellow Herald reviewer Graham Reid's glowing reviews of her last two albums.
That unfamiliarity led a few numbers to blend into another, especially a brace of acoustic/funk fusion numbers tended more towards being exercises in musicianship than solid songs.
However, DiFranco and her cracking and characterful three-piece band managed many an especially memorable moment and some startling ballads - like the song she introduced as being about America's drug war and its spiralling imprisonment rate, with the chorus: "My country 'tis of thee, to take swings at each other on talkshow TV ..."
And if that sounded all a bit earnest folk singer, she had the self-deprecating ability to turn it on its head. "I've been attending folksinger classes," she quipped during one this-song-is-about speech, "and working on my introductions ..."
Earlier, she'd introduced a song of a relationship gone sour: "That's the nature of this business, making my problems your problems."
And on a new song: "The reason I'm so prolific is I was dropped on my head as a child. I forget things as soon as I've written them."
Marvellous fun between the songs, hugely engaging within them. Long may DiFranco's particular amnesia continue. The love affair begins here.
In support local Karen Hunter, playing as a duo with spidery bassist Will Seiffert, found a warm reception for her inventive singer-songwriter approach.
Hunter sometimes showed her self-assured performing voice isn't quite as strong as her songwriting voice just yet. But the best moment came when she discarded her guitar on a strident bass-accompanied near-rap number which mixed it up in smart and sexy fashion.