Xavier Rudd

[September 3rd, 2008]

[STAGE SAGE] To many, the label “singer-songwriter” evokes images of empty coffeehouses or aged hippies. That’s precisely the image Xavier Rudd shatters with his multi-instrumental solo performances to packed houses. The scraggily haired Aussie croons in a voice that jumps seamlessly from gentle to powerful (think Paul Simon meets Ben Harper) as he frequently plays his acoustic guitars (a six- and a 12-string) on his lap like a slide master straight out of the Mississippi Delta. But it doesn’t stop with the guitar: Rudd perches himself behind a huge setup lined with didgeridoos and percussive instruments, a harmonica strapped to his face in the Dylan tradition.

Bridging the gap between Australia and the Northwest, Rudd emphasizes a lot of political issues in the poetic depth of his lyrics, while his songs range from quiet meditations to all-out rockers. The Aboriginal-rights messages might go over the head of some, but his anti-corporate and pro-environment messages will ring loud and clear in pissed-off Portland, especially coupled with his massive talents and charisma. This is an artist who bridges generational gaps to strike a balance to between past traditions and modern innovation, his chords resonating both in the ears and in the heart.