Lawrence Arabia - Freida Margolis

That evening, Lawrence Arabia played naked. I should clarify - he was clothed (a wise decision, as it was a rather chilly evening, and there’s probably some kind of law against exposing oneself at a Grey Lynn wine bar, Freida Margolis), but that night, his stage was a stool, and his band were ten fingers and a tongue. He had a microphone, but even that was almost unnecessary, as even the farthest members of the crowd were bare metres away.

He opened the set with the delicate swaying of piano chords. The song was “One Unique Creature”, and it sweet, and sad - sadness sung sweet. Stripped down to the piano, it sounded like the kind of thing a Tim Burton character might play alone in a ruined tower. This sombre image was shattered when the song ended in whooping and applause. Lawrence shot his audience a sly grin. “Let me introduce my horn section”, he said, pointing toward his mouth. Some people laughed, and I spent the first half of the next song trying to figure out whether I’d missed some kind of innuendo, until he started blowing air between his lips in an uncanny imitation of a trumpet. It kind of blew my mind that that was possible. Lawrence Arabia is definitely the best player of mouth-trumpet that I have seen, and even though he is the only player of mouth-trumpet I have ever seen, I still mean that as a compliment.

In a way, the first song was something of a red herring. Though musically many of the songs shared the bittersweetness of the opener, he sang the rest with laughter on his tongue. He sang songs about annoying people driving SUVs, about passing out drunk in public fountains while trying to impress romantic interests. The man’s songs are funny, and so too is the man himself. When midway through a song he forgot a chord, he let the silence hang for a second, let out an “ah, fuck!”, and continued the song as though nothing had happened. He made a couple of similar mistakes across the evening, but he leaned into them. He was clearly enjoying playing, and the audience was clearly enjoying listening.

My only disappointment came towards the end of the set. When taking crowd suggestions, several of his friends heckled him with “Under the Bridge”. He seemed to consider it for a second, and then remembered that for one, he didn’t know the chords, and for two, that was a guitar song, and also the first song that any high-schooler learns to play upon deciding to pick up a guitar. I thought this was completely fair enough, but it also awoke a desire in me to hear the funk-rock anthem transformed into a sarcastically sad Lawrence Arabia piano ballad. Oh well, there’s always next time.

Words Tom Coupe

Images Madeleine Brighouse-Mayo