Live Review: Soak, Jesse Davidson

“I pray for you/And you know I don’t like Jesus.”

An ordinary night ascended to a higher level when two very talented young singers took to the pulpit at Paddington Uniting Church.

The room filled quietly, people shuffling to sit on the carpeted floor or on a pew to one side, a little in awe of their surroundings. The back of the church was bathed in purple light. This was neither a sermon nor your average gig.

Adelaide young gun Jesse Davidson swapped the washed-out electronic vibes in his plaintive pop songs to play a stripped-back set with just an electric guitar. In the vast hall, his staccato fretwork took on a Grizzly Bear air, and his smooth voice that belied his 18 years also brought Jeff Buckley to mind.

Davidson was also a consummate professional. When his strap slipped off, holding his guitar aloft, he dryly joked, “That was great.” Sweaty and nervous with all eyes on him – a change from a noisy club – he shone through it all.

Songs Ocean and Laika wove vivid images and emotions and Between Friends, produced with Japanese Wallpaper, took on a new emotional depth with just the boy and his guitar. He also belted out an intense rendition of Elvis’ Love Me to great effect.

Soak, aka Bridie Monds-Watson, cuts a diminutive figure and announced her presence by beginning to play without a word, eerie reverb on her Les Paul making the room feel like it was underwater. Appropriate then that Sea Creatures kicked off the set – “It’s about whales,” she said simply of a song about cold fish interfering with love.

Her voice, husky and haunting, filled the church beautifully and evoked her chilly Irish origins, especially on climactic tracks like Shovels. Between songs, however, she cheerfully riffed about missing her dogs and lathering on sunscreen for her first trip down under.

Soak too is 18, already drawing on life experiences to write powerful songs. Amid her humourous asides, she silenced the room recalling the argument between her parents that spurred her to write the peacekeeping plea Blud.

There were no singalongs or much chatter between songs tonight; the room was in a hush throughout – except to break into applause and to giggle at the self-deprecating commentary from both artists, who clearly haven’t put too much stake in having huge talent at a tender age. These two deserve reverence. “The teenage heart is an unguarded dart,” Soak crooned on B A Nobody. Preach.