Live Review: Tim Rogers, Steve Smyth

So, Tim Rogers. In a church.

Besides a slight surprise that he didn’t actually burst into flame when entering the building, sacred-to-profane topics covered in the night’s service included dining with Patti Smith, winning 13 ARIAs, Philip Glass actually ordering pancakes for breakfast, alternative names for penises, philosopher Blaise Pascal’s musing that "all of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone", Josh Pyke’s inherent politeness, and that ‘cabaret’ probably doesn’t mean what you think it does. Oh, and some singing.

Opening musical sermon went to Steve Smyth. His beard and croon-to-howl remain intact as — backed by a three-piece brass section and upright bassist — he offered new songs like the back-arching Yours Sincerely, before going the full Tom Waits growl for “…just another Friday night…” and that still-almost-hymnal longing of Written Or Spoken echoed up into the rafters.

Ostensibly, “your old Uncle Timmy” is here to introduce his new solo work, An Actor Repairs — but its strolling muses on mortality and the sometimes troubled soul of an artist are only part of what’s offered. And he’s not alone up there — keyboardist Clio Renner and electric fiddler Xani Kolac are splendid counterpoints and accomplices as Rogers throws shapes and bon mots with his usual expansive style, and they're given their own moments to be centre of attention.

Thus, proceedings are opened with Bob Dylan’s conversational If You See Her, Say Hello as some snug-fitting covers punctuate Rogers’ less-familiar new tunes — although the waking-on-someone’s-lawn One More Late Night Phone Conversation seems destined to join his best tales of crumbling relationships. After being both sides of that call, he and Renner become puzzled protagonists for Loudon Wainwright’s IDTTYWLM (I Don’t Think That Your Wife Likes Me). His take on Randy Newman’s I Think It’s Going To Rain Today is full of all the melancholy resignation it requires, and softly collides with the new record’s The Umpire’s Son, with his half-hearted disclaimer that it’s “…not at all autobiographical”. Yeah, right.

There’s more of the familiar as the evening winds up: You've Been So Good To Me So Far is as breezy and self-convincing as ever, Heavy Heart draws the sighs of recognition, and Jaimme’s Got A Gal 20-plus years on is coloured by the affection for the big brother who “…got life right”. Yes, Tim, you’re a beautiful mess — that’s part of why we love you.