In rock and pop music, there are plenty of musicians who simply love music
and who aren't drawn to the fame or the money. Chris Whitley was something
else again: he didn't just love music, he seemed to live and breathe it.
It was easy to imagine that without it he wouldn't be able to exist.
Anyone who saw him play live would have been taken aback by the ferocity
and passion in his performances and anyone who then spoke to him off-stage
would have been even more surprised at how gentle he was. He may have
passed away on Sunday but through listening to his music again, we can be
staggered by his talent all over again and more importantly, we can feel
some of that passion he had for music. RIP Chris.
Links: official site
- Rolling Stone news report
written after seeing Chris play Dingwalls, London, 17 Feb 1999:
I almost missed this gig altogether. I ducked into the corner store on my
way home late one evening to buy some milk and while I was there, I
decided to grab the latest issue of Mojo mag. Flipping through it, I saw
Mr Whitley's name mentioned in the "upcoming shows" section. My heart
skipped a beat and I skimmed through the piece frantically, searching for
the performance dates. London! February 17! Shit! That's tomorrow!
So the next day I made a few phone calls and found out tickets were still
available and could be purchased at the door that night. Ross was busy so
I asked Liam whether he might be interested. He was intrigued by the way I
raved about Chris so he said "sure".
In the end we got tickets without any trouble and were amongst the first
through the door so we got seats on one of the steps. The opening act was
okay, he had a nice lyrical touch but musically he was pretty basic.
After a short break, some guy wearing a singlet appeared on stage and
started tuning a guitar. He then turned to the crowd and launched into his
first song. It seems Mr Whitley is not one of your flashy showman types.
Thankfully, his stage manner doesn't matter in the slightest. As
musicians go, they don't come much better. Saying that Chris plays guitar
and sings is an insult of sorts. He doesn't strum the guitar so much as he
wrestles with it, It's as if there is a symphony happening in his head
that he is trying to reproduce with the six strings at his disposal. His
playing is intricate and staggeringly powerful, usually at the same time.
When he picked up the banjo for a few songs...well, I've never heard the
banjo sound anything like that. I've heard it said that he has to bandage
his fingers after a performance - I have no trouble believing that now.
Each song started without fuss, a few tentative strums to check the
tuning, and then whoosh, he was off. Similarly, each song ended just as
suddenly, his barrage of chords abruptly falling away, with perhaps one
final note left to ring for a few moments to prepare us for the imminent
silence.
Blending seamlessly with his guitar is his voice, something which is
easily overlooked when his playing is so overwhelmingly intense. On record
he's known for slipping in and out of falsetto, occasionally mid-phrase.
In live performance his vocals duck and weave instinctively, carefully
threading vivid imagery and additional melodies into his complex sonic
patterns. Only towards the end of the set did he allow his voice to stand
by itself, choosing to only strum the occasional chord of Big Sky Country,
building the melody on his voice alone. In addition to demonstrating his
considerable vocal abilities it also proved that Big Sky Country is an
extraordinary song.
To close the evening, Chris put aside his guitar and was joined by his
support act and his roadie, who provided a more subdued guitar framework
for Chris to sing over. Ironically, it was only then that he seemed
completely relaxed on stage. Maybe we weren't the only ones intimidated by
his guitar playing.
