The White Album Concert

Please, take a seat and brace yourself for the following scenario: a largely-empty Hamer Hall dotted with baby boomers, a 17-piece orchestral backing band that could have plausibly been plucked from the last Harry Connick Jr tour and Phil Jamieson at the mic, decked out in a dapper black dinner suit, black fedora hat and red nail polish, crooning his rendition of ‘Dear Prudence’ from The Beatles’ colloquially-known and perversely mythologised White Album like a choirboy contestant on Australia’s Got Talent. The only thing absent from this variety-hour pap was Ray Martin on feel-good MC duties.

So why Jamieson, Tim Rogers, Chris Cheney and Josh Pyke to perform the White Album in full? The most likely (and the simplest) explanation is that they have crowd-pulling profiles and there’s enough polarity between them to appeal to a diverse audience demographic. But whatever the explanation, it doesn’t discount the abhorrence of such a clunky and hideous union (I don't even know if Rob Thomas, Billy Joe Armstrong, James Mercer and Chris Cornell would top it in the grease stakes).

Not that it was exactly much of a union anyway. The foursome rotated mostly-solo stints at the mic from one song to the next (Rogers: ‘Rocky Raccoon’ and ‘Piggies’; Cheney: ‘Back in the USSR’, ‘Birthday’ and ‘Helter Skelter’; Jamieson: ‘Dear Prudence’ and ‘I Will’; Pyke: ‘Julia’ and ‘Mother Nature’s Son’ – and plenty of others, of course). It meant they each spent somewhere between half- and three-quarters of their time backstage.

Perhaps this – the fact that they were on and off the stage like catwalk models – explains why they shared a notably underwhelming chemistry with the backing band (who spent the entire time on stage toiling with workman-like endeavour). There wasn’t enough time on stage to establish a rapport.

It would have obviously been a gargantuan undertaking, but I had the impression Rogers, Jamieson, Cheney and Pyke performing the album meant they were going to be simultaneously involved in all the songs on the album – vocally and instrumentally. Whether the outcome of this would have been a train wreck or a miracle, what matters is it would have been interesting to find out. Such a scenario would have also facilitated something more akin to an on-stage love-in between the singers and backing band, rather than a mere exchange of platitudes.

However, the performance of the White Album enabled the foursome to showcase aspects of their vocal ranges that they don’t typically flaunt in their own bands. And from a purely technical standpoint, each vocalist delivered in spades. The evening also enabled a fresh perspective on what each of the four stack up to as performers. In the ice-breaking stakes, Rogers was the kingpin. His performance was the most animated, idiosyncratic and unique. It was still in the realm of faithful Beatles tribute, but it was authentically him too – and refreshingly irreverent. Cheney was the slickest, but he came off like a hyper-competitive Aus Idol contestant, content to study around the clock to make the grade. He was a little generic as a consequence. Jamieson looked like a rabbit in the headlights and was too reverent. While he nailed the notes, it sounded emotionally wooden and frigid. And as for Pyke, his singing was typically polite and vanilla.

I’m still baffled as to which breed of Beatles fans are likely to draw the most from these concerts. But if you’re still swept up in the novelty of the idea and contemplating shelling out $110 or more, don’t say you haven’t been warned.

by Josh Jennings