CD Reviews
MTV Unplugged: Live In Melbourne
MILK! / REMOTE CONTROL
Though her studio output is damn near impeccable (this scribe doled her their ‘album of the year’ distinction in 2015 and 2018), Courtney Barnett is a concert crusher at heart. Her shows are characteristically monstrous, manic and magnetic; she tears into her guitar like it just insulted her mother, and puts so much soul into her voice that we’re convinced she’s got an iron throat.
Lo and behold, her MTV Unplugged session could not be more diametric. The CB3 are in tow, of course, albeit stripped to their basics and left to rely on the elements for amplification. Barnett herself weilds a bright, resonant acoustic and sings drier and more pastoral than we’re used to. Birds chirp in the background as the band retune and crack jokes between songs. Coughs, clicks and bung notes are all laid bare in the unfiltered recording, and the end result feels distinctly human.
Admittedly, our first listen has us polarised. It’s easy to dwell on what this record isn’t – it isn’t lengthy, it isn’t polished, and it isn’t as loud or energetic as Barnett’s average gig – but at face value, this neat little package is a wholly enchanting, one-of-a-kind exploration into Barnett’s artistic mind like we’ve never seen it before. “Sunday Roast” and “Depreston” sound downright
gorgeous with Lucy Waldron’s deeply spiced cello work dancing around the summery twang of Barnett’s acoustic strumming. Unreleased cut “Play It On
Repeat” is candid and raw and feels notably powerful played solo. And though we were skeptical about “Nameless, Faceless” retaining its punkish bite without the beating anger and snarling distortion, the addition of eerie keys and intentional jumps in tune and timing (plus the harrowing chemistry between Barnett and guest Evelyn Ida Morris) imbue in the track a whole new sense of gristly and garish discomfort.
In an eight-track set, three covers seems a tad exorbitant (especially when Barnett’s catalogue is packed with gems of her own), yet when she and
Paul Kelly hit the chorus of a gloomy “Charcoal Lane” (Archie Roach) – or when the final refrain of “So Long, Marianne” rolls around and you’re forced to wonder if Leonard Cohen for saw such beauty when he wrote it – the argument falls immediately flat.
Dismally short but delightfully sweet, Courtney Barnett’s MTV Unplugged session is an essential listen; not just for her own fans, either, but for fans of any sirenic, emotionally rousing music.