I believe it can be successfully argued that Jools Holland is a bit of a dobber. Boogey-woogie bullying his way into every second song on Later is a running joke and the musical equivalent of ‘it’s ma ba’ and I’m gettin’ a game or I’m going home’. As easy as it is to knock the tool, the fact remains that it is one of the only mainstream outlets for music on television and I’ve uncovered many a gem from the (look how eclectic we are) Tibetan throat, Estonian skiffle, Tanzanian techno section and it’s that spirit of randomness that brings me to The Sweetback Sisters at the Arches as part of the Celtic Connections festival.
Billed as a rockin’, honky-tonk, country, swing, fourpiece, the SS (no Nazi theme intended) arrive onstage in matching cowboy outfits, with singing pseudo-siblings Emily Miller and Zara Bode in striking blue dresses that look ever so… Thatchery (make your own Nazi jokes). Putting aside any potential latte-larceny, this turns out to be more of a solid country offering than I was expecting but no worse for it.
Affectionate covers and sparkling originals roll along in equally entertaining measures. This is a band who love their genre and wilfully indulge in some of its more ridiculous elements. Songs like ‘It Won’t Hurt When I Fall Down From This Bar Stool’ and ‘Lookin For A Fight’ are introduced with a knowing nod and a wink but are delivered with expertise and exuberance that is a treat to witness.
A cover of Patsy Cline’s ‘Love Me, Honey Do’ brings swoons and gushes from all around and is an example of the playful, energetic style which underlines the fact that my knowledge of the scene has until now pretty much been limited to ‘Stand By Your Man’ and the theme tune from ‘Rawhide’.
Just when I’m about to reach for the stetson with both hands I’m struck by the fact that that the guitarist is clearly taking the piss with increasingly elaborate solos reminiscent of Marty McFly at Enchantment Under The Sea. It might just be country speak but describing this as ‘Telecastering’ has started to bring images of someone playing guitar until we give him money to stop. During one particular epic, short haired Thatcher can be seen shaking her head wondering if and when it will ever end.
A final cover by Roger Miller (think ‘King of the Road’ not Cameroonian World Cup goal botherer) brings proceedings towards a close. ‘My Uncle Used To Love Me But She Died’ which for this evening at least should surely be renamed ‘If Yer Auntie Had Baws’ is pure theatre and the highlight of the gig. I urge you to look it up.
An excellent evening and a perfect example of jewels that are on offer at a festival that goes from strength to strength.