Jeremy Dutcher’s penultimate song was a cheeky masterclass in stage presence. He had just finished singing the first English song in his set, and winking, he turned to the audience and announced “Now that the English language bandage is off, and you all now know I can sing in your language …” He abandoned his seat at the piano, grabbed a scarf and launched into an old British tune called “Be Gay if You Can Be.” Now to be fair, the words didn’t have quite the connotation when it was written as they do now, but Jeremy was playing up every side of that coin. Midway through performing, he slowed the music to deliver a patter: “now remember, what I mean by that is that you can be yourself, and that your ‘you’ is not the same as my ‘you’ but you should be the best you you can be.” He soon returned to singing with the lyrics now slightly altered: “Be You if You Can Be.” Eventually he cut off his band with a cheeky wave of his scarf and the words “And You Can.” This sassy bit of humour was in stark contrast to the powerful heartfelt hymns sung in his own language: his soaring vocal range supported by an excellent 4 piece band. The man taught us the difference between religion and spirituality. And it was a deeply spiritual experience. Often using a call and response to a hundred year old recording of an ancestor singing the traditional prayers of his people. He taught us hymns of gratitude and honour. His art was a brilliant blend of music, language, culture and philosophy.
And then he cracked us all up. It was brilliant. He finished his set with a return to the soaring vocals that held us in rapture. We really didn’t want his set to end. But the sun had set, and it was time to return Jericho Beach Park to the neighbourhood that had lent it to us. The lanterns were already there, waiting to lead us all out.
