The Felice Brothers in Whelan’s, Thursday 12th June 2014
It can be a tricky thing, the toilet expedition during a gig. At best, you can come back and find your prime real estate has been occupied. At worst, you can miss the song you’ve been waiting all night to hear. Such a fate befalls one unfortunate at the end of The Felice Brothers’ set in Whelan’s on this stifling summer’s night in the city. His champion tries her best – “There’s someone in the toilet who really loves this song!” – but the band can only wait so long, and the crowd only bay so much, for poor Daniel.
They’re a boisterous bunch in the main venue tonight, which makes Eve Bell’s support set all the more impressive. The sixteen year old from Donegal gets down to business amidst a din of chatter from the wings and beyond, holding the attention of those on the floor with some from-the-heart ballads, fine playing and a refined voice. A cover of Tom Waits’ Little Drop Of Poison can’t kill the pre-headline conversation but Bell soldiers on nonetheless; nervous at first, but certainly well able for the road that lies ahead of the singer/songwriter.
With a new album in ‘Favourite Waitress’ released in Europe just days before, The Felice Brothers seem energised as they kick off with Butch Cassidy. Ian and James Felice lead proceedings, the former on war-worn guitar and the latter from his seat behind the organ at centre stage, hands and body recoiling from the keys now and then to accentuate a vocal, or a lick from his bandmate.
From follower Honda Civic onwards a rowdiness infiltrates the venue that doesn’t let up for the duration, with Greg Farley bent at the knees or down on both on fiddle, and the crowd every bit as involved in the healthy selection from the new album as anything else. “This is my favourite country in the world” claims Ian, brandishing the dregs of a Guinness, “apart from the USA”. One guy certainly becomes a favoured audience member after replacing said dregs with a freshly pulled pint of plain.
“Nice singin’, Dublin” offers James after a full-throated Whiskey In My Whiskey, and a take on Hesitation Blues is equally as raucous. Farley eschews violin for washboard on their classic Frankie’s Gun as the players dance into one another, faces smiling. James plays accordion as much as organ during the gig, tossing the latter out of his way to make room for sweat-sodden squeeze box antics. More nonchalant is the bass player, leaning against the wall with one knee raised. He eventually slides to the floor later in the set only to have Ian saunter over and regale him with a loose guitar solo.
The four men upstanding share vocal duties and harmonies throughout while the drummer keeps it on solid ground, brief drum solo aside. Farley joins him behind the kit to hammer floor tom and cymbals, and the fiddle player seems the most delighted man in the room with the later rendition of Wild Rover, an all-singing, all-shouting affair.
The call-and-response encore of Where’d You Get The Liquor seems to be the ill-advised point our earlier character decides on his toilet break, missing James’ rabble rousing in anticipation of closer Penn Station. Every time his arms are raised during the song, the crowd screams in response. Did our man ever make it back from the jacks in time to join in? We can’t comment on that. One thing is certain, though, The Felice Brothers sent many a person off into the balmy night sweating bullets, and just a bit hoarser than before.