When I first heard about this gig I wasn’t sure if I should go. I mean, so hot on the heels of the Nude Girls at Burn, it was bound to be a bit of a disappointment. And yes, for me, to sit at a table at a gig, while all around you people are digging in to their corporate buffets, is just kind of weird. The sparkly curtain on stage was pretty weird too, as was the old couple next to us who were getting it on in a seriously creepy way….luckily they left shortly into the second set, perhaps chased away by my friend and I repeatedly hissing UGH in their general direction, or you know, because they needed to finish what they’d started. Ugh.
Anyway, I got the feeling the whole switch between solo project ala adult contemporary and raucous raging rock star was proving a little more weird than usual for Arno as well. His inner Nudie was just itching to break free and this was evidenced by a lot more vocal gymnastics than are usually present in his solo persona, and certainly the Nude Girlsesque growls and yells brought a grin to my face, though they seemed to startle some of the tennis clappers in the capacity crowd. I think many of the audience members were expecting a nice polite cucumber sandwich eating tea drinking pretty boy to serenade them, and instead they got a shooter swilling foul mouthed rocker with some very special dance moves. However, kudos to the boys for having a break between sets, because a little bit of liquor will go a long way to loosening a crowd up, and in the second half there was a lot more foot stomping and cheering going on. Even a few whistles. I was impressed. There was a little too much guitar wank going on on stage for my tastes, but then Albert Frost is a blues virtuoso, who really deserves more credit than he gets for this collaboration. I got the feeling that every now and then they forgot we were out there and were just two guys jamming and having a good time. The crowd certainly was hanging on every note and word in hushed silence and only erupted between songs… except for me of course, I just can’t help the odd whoohoo or two slipping out. Bad girl. But I did manage to stay in my seat until they busted out the Nudies favourite Blue Eyes during the encore. My verdict – I feel almost sorry for Arno that whatever else he does will always be compared to the Springbok Nude Girls. Yes, his solo project has a much more middle of the road, adult contemporary vibe, but the songs are well crafted, the vocals superb, and Albert Frost is one hell of a talented guy. In fact, they played one of Albert’s songs and it was really, really fun. So if you look at this for what it is, it may not be every rocker’s cup of tea, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t good. Of course, it’s not the mind blowing swirl of energy that is the Nude Girls, but it’s still pretty. And hey, even a wild child needs to take a rest from swigging Jagerbombs, sip an Appletiser instead, try sitting at the table instead of jumping on it, and just enjoy a really talented duo.
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