Live Review: Jill Scott, Noah Slee

Decked out with a laptop, synth, live electronic drums, a guitarist and two female vocalists, Brisbane artist Noah Slee unobtrusively serenades the shuffling crowd of punters eager to find a good seat. Their sound is smooth and hypnotic, with the gorgeous vocals and soulful tunes finding a responsive audience. A rendition of Nina Simone's Feeling Good segues into haunting closing track Escape, and murmurs of “Wow, who was that?” can be heard throughout the room.

The crowd cheers as the ten-piece band saunter on stage, and when Jill Scott enters, all pretence at this being a seated show is dropped and the audience jumps to their feet. From the first moment the power and sensuality Scott emanates is astounding. The energy of the band is equally explosive, with the show being stolen in no small way by her three dancing male backing vocalists, The Pipes. We're ready to dance and the first few songs are all funk-filled fist-pumpers. She seems genuinely thrilled with the reaction, often pausing her vocals to hear the audience sing instead. When Scott finally addresses the audience between songs she is charming and teasing. There is a great mix of uptempo and slower sexier numbers, from earlier albums and the most recent, jumping from duet spoken-word-infused The Way to newer duet, So In Love. The show is non-stop fire and light, with arrangements full to the point of being crowded, and while the performances can't be faulted, the songs seem a little rushed at times.

It is then, with a cappella Quick, that we see a vulnerable side of Jill Scott. Even just her succinct introduction of “this is about having your feelings hurt” brings her almost to tears, and the pain she shows is so honest and lacking in the expected melodrama. The short jazzy poem shows her mastery of rhythm and performance, at once astounding in its complexity and heart-wrenching in its directness. The show picks up pace once more, and we are treated to some confessional, sweetly salacious moments. In the hands of another performer, the sexual nature of her songs would seem cheap, but performed by a woman so confident and complex it is merely another flavour of the show. She throws out the beautiful line, “all good music is a confession”, and Hate On Me and Golden close the show. They're fun numbers but they are both played so fast that the impact is somewhat lost. The expected encore is a treat, and ends with the crowd singing together, “do you understand what you feel inside?” What a fitting sentiment on which to end the night.