Ani DiFranco with Daniel Champagne
Where: Alix Goolden Performance Hall
When: Tuesday
Rating: 4.5/5 stars
The image of Ani DiFranco standing centre stage, acoustic guitar slung over her shoulder, her eyes wild with excitement, is something devoted followers of the folkie never grow tired of seeing.
DiFranco was again cast in that light on Tuesday at the Alix Goolden Performance Hall, her first Victoria performance following a four-year absence. Her fans greeted the Buffalo native, now living in New Orleans, as if she had never left.
DiFranco, at first, had some reservations. “Thanks for coming out and seeing if I’m still on my game,” she said with a chuckle, following the night’s spirited opening number, Little Plastic Castle.
She was in top form soon enough. Joined by longtime bassist Todd Sickafoose and Dirty Dozen Brass Band drummer Terence Higgins — top-tier players who showcased their skills while keeping themselves just out of the spotlight — one got the sense early that DiFranco was not going to miss a step on this night.
She did her best to offer something for everyone during the action-packed 90 minutes, and although some fans were clearly more enamoured with her early, pure folk material than her recent blues and jazzy asides, she hit a bullseye with every move. DiFranco didn’t play it safe: She spaced out a run of popular favourites with a gathering of as-yet-unrecorded songs and some left-field choices, each one more dynamite than the next.
DiFranco said she had to “resuscitate” Welcome To:, the song which closed her chart-topping 2003 album, Evolve, and pulled out a “crusty old one” that was Gravel, a fan favourite. Not sure what DiFranco was getting at with these introductions, other than to suggest she was flying without a net on this night. It suited her well, in any event. She is currently touring for the sake of playing some concerts, and not with the promotion of a specific album in mind.
Her voice (deeper and less erratic than previous Victoria appearances) added extra oomph to some of her more emotional material, while her politicized songs (such as Splinter or J, two notable environmental anthems) employed her solid guitar playing. The wild card was the hallowed Alix Goolden, a former church serving as an instrument unto itself, especially for DiFranco. She sang Dilate with the anticipation of a child on Christmas morning. “This room seems to tempt the colossal,” she said.
Ironically, the bass drowned out DiFranco during Dilate, which only seemed to push her further into the zone. The intensity had mounted by the time she arrived at Fuel, which produced some serious electricity. DiFranco clearly purged some inner anger on this song, albeit with a smile on her face. That she stumbled on a verse did little to dull its considerable power.
Of the brand new songs she performed, one stood taller than the rest. A bluesy mid-tempo burn, the unrecorded gem was performed with DiFranco huddled beside her bandmates around a single microphone at the foot of the stage. It was a singular moment in her set, the type of goosebump performance tailor-made made for such a room. With barest of amplification, DiFranco (on vocals and guitar), Sickafoose (on stand-up bass) and Higgins (on what looked to be a practice drum pad) flat-out rocked.
She could be intensely funny, from telling a story about how Willie Nelson said he would play on her record (he didn’t) to a quip about using cheat sheets to remember her setlist. But the real depth of her talent came via her communications skills. Opening act Daniel Champagne had some crowd control, too, his Australian charm coupled with some deft songwriting and guitar playing chops, but DiFranco has the ability to convey a message in a manner all her own.
That’s what her fans have grown attached to during her 25-year career — the sense of oneness, the prospect of sharing an emotional, intimate experience with DiFranco at one of her concerts.
She had them on The Whole Night, a song about exploring your own sexual orientation, just as she did on Joyful Girl, the concert-closing denouement.
“You feel like singing with me?” she asked during the encore, strumming the recognizable opening chords to her hit, 32 Flavours. “That is really what this room is asking us to do, sing together.”
DiFranco did just that on Tuesday, with a little help from her friends.