Review: Stu Larsen at the Media Club
September 20, 2014 · by · in ,
Watching Stu Larsen perform live, you can’t help but feel that you’ve been invited to be a part of something rarely found in today’s music scene: no flashy lights, no band, just a man, his guitar, and his clear love for the music that he’s sharing with you. The Australian performer’s show at The Media Club was no exception—he walked up on stage, spent a few minutes fiddling around with his guitar and harmonica, interacted with a very eager fan in the front row, and began to play. “My beard is already stuck in the harmonica,” he joked, before launching into “Ferry to Dublin”, a beautiful opener that includes many musical features that are now associate as classic Larsen indicators: soft guitar, and the creation of nostalgia that makes you wish you were exploring new, worldly places. Photographs by . Rare for Vancouver, the crowd remained respectfully quiet for much of the show, except when they were passionately singing along to some of his more well-known songs. He mentioned onmultiple occasions how much it meant to him that people knew the words and were joining in. “San Francisco” seemed to be a crowd favourite, as the fifty or so people in the crowd sang along to the chorus. It’s easy to see why—with such powerfully resonating lines like, “I don’t know where I’m going, ‘till I get there,” there is something for everyone to identify with. Vancouver marks the launch of Larsen’s solo North America tour, supporting his latest album Vagabond. He was last in the city just two weeks ago on Sept. 7, as one of the openers for Passenger (Mike Rosenberg) at The Malkin Bowl. Passenger and Stu Larsen are well-known best friends, and Rosenberg actually produced Vagabond. At that show, the duo was joined by Maritime band The Once, and Larsen noted that going from a tour of 10 people to a tour of one required some adjusting. He said that it could get lonely at times, but that he’d experienced loneliness before. “[Mike] ditched me for this guy called Ed Sheeran … it was alittle lonely at the time,” he joked, launching into another of his melodies. Many of the songs in his set included powerful lyrics exploring loneliness, and the power of traveling from place to place. It’s clear that much of Larsen’s inspiration comes from his witnessing of the world (the fact that the title of the album is Vagabond is highly appropriate) and the sense of place gathered from experience, with songs titles like “King Street” and “San Francisco”. Photographs by . Larsen’s music is a perfect blend of acoustic guitar and unique vocals, which make him stand out from artists with a similar sound. Combined with heartfelt, genuine lyrics inspired by real people and experiences (and a cover of Louis Armstrong’s “What a Wonderful World” didn’t hurt), he creates music that moves people. There is a reason that Larsen doesn’t stand still when he’s performing: he’s constantly going up onto his toes, or swaying, and the crowd is right there with him—his melodies are something youfeel deep within you. Before beginning “Thirteen Sad Farewells”, one of the catchiest, heart-wrenching songs off his new album, a fan begged him to tell the story behind the piece. Larsen explained that he had originally written the song for the album of a friend he was “sort of seeing” at the time, but when he played it for Passenger he told him to keep it for himself, because it was so good. Larsen acknowledged that in the end he was glad he did. Overall, the show at the Media Club was a vibrant demonstration that Larsen knows how to hold his own, and that his fans are loyal and passionate about his music. Hopefully the release of such a strong album, combined with his exposure in touring with Passenger, will bring the attention that his talent so clearly deserves. One of the most memorable parts of the show was the obvious joy that Larsen (and the crowd) got from being there. He’d sing, and suddenly have a big, genuine smile on his face, because people were singing along and beingmoved by his beautiful music. You walked out the door, only to realize that in the past hour you’d been a part of something really special.