Thao / Water Rats, London
Barnstorming Thao sticks the boot in
Words Ann Lee.
So, get this: Thao’s like Cat Power, but with cowboy boots. That’s right! Well, that’s what countless articles would have us believe anyway. It’s the voice, you see, gliding creamy smooth over any bumps and creases, but there’s none of that morose warbling that Chan Marshall likes so much, and her songs are an altogether more vivacious affair. So why has the world’s press decided on this seemingly glib comparison?
At the Water Rats in King’s Cross, Thao (pronounced Ta-ow like ‘towel’) is in an apologetic hurried fluster, cursing the confusing multitude of tube lines that blight the capital for making her and her band so late. Okay, okay… so the cowboy boots are in place, as is the floppy fringe and the slouchy sensuality, but jumping straight into ‘Beat (Health, Life and Fire)’ the similarities end right there and then.
On stage her backing band, The Get Down Stay Down, are nowhere to be seen apart from drummer Willis, who accompanies the guitar-clutching singer as she throws out song suggestions. No time to prepare a set list, not that it matters. Right from the get go, it’s obvious; this is barnstorming, boot stamping, rollicking good fun which gets the largely immobile chat-happy crowd to move their shoulders just that little bit. Towards the end.
Thao spikes alt. country harmonies with jagged bittersweet words, although it’s easy sometimes to forget the bite of her lyrics as you’re swept up in the jaunty crunch of strums and twangs. Her wholesome Americana and honky tonk bluegrass tunes are delivered with idiosyncratic charm and her frank delivery has more in common with pal Laura Veirs, who helped her get her big break at label Kill Rock Stars.
Bathed in red light, her hips glued to her guitar, Thao has an easy, relaxed air to her. We’ve been told that she likes to strum her guitar using toothbrushes and pens, but there are no such gimmicks on display here tonight. It’s her voice that impresses the most, and it helps to paper over - or rather mould over - an inherent lack of variety and change of pace. For last song, ‘Bag of Hammers’, she attempts a stab at beatboxing - a pretty decent one at that - before launching into a bouncy homage to a Michael J. Fox. Beatboxing and country? It’s not as crazy as it sounds. Really.
Cue & Hay
What do you make of the comparisons to Cat Power?
I understand that people need a frame of reference, but I don’t think we’re that similar. But I think she has an amazing voice, so if anyone wants to draw a comparison then that’s fine. I don’t really see it, though. I think Paris Hilton has a record out right now? What if it was her? I’d die.
How did you get into music?
I started playing guitar when I was 12 and that was mostly out of boredom. I was a lonely kid. I just picked it up and took to it. I have a very long history of chronic quitting; I quit everything - jobs, people. Writing music and playing guitar has been the only thing that has kept my attention.
Did you find solace in music then?
I think so. I grew up in an isolated house. I lived in the suburbs but I didn’t have a lot of friends… I sound like a loser! My parents were involved, in that they fed us and took care of us, but I had a lot of time alone and when I was younger there was a lot of family turmoil. Now I’m really into being alone. I like travelling and the time I get traipsing around.
What can you tell me about your album We Brave Bee Stings and All?
The new album is incredibly autobiographical - grossly so - and all these songs are an earmark of something; a life event or a certain phase I was going through. Most of the songs were written around the time I was leaving school and embarking on life and trying to figure out what the hell was going on. A lot of it is recognition of who I am; how I conduct myself and the way I interact with people.
I read that your dad leaving when you were 12 was a big influence.
I think that’s a huge part of my biography and, in that way, it’s affected a lot of what I am about, what I do and the songs I write. There are songs about him and there songs about my mum, and the way I behave based on how I saw them interact and how I was treated. I tend to second guess my relationships. It’s sort of like ‘leave before you’re left’. Any of my friends will tell you that they grapple with me in this really weird way where I’m present but at the same time I’m just bracing myself.
Is it scary presenting so much emotional honesty for all to see on stage?
It’s weird the sort of detachment I can form. All the emotion goes into writing the song, but when a song’s complete it takes on a public life. There’s this wall between giving myself to a song and giving a song to people.
Why did you start beatboxing?
That was out of loneliness too. I was on the school bus in sixth grade when I started. It’s like a party trick. I didn’t really think that much of it until people started commenting on it. I jokingly said I wanted it to be on the record and they actually used it. But I’m not that good. There are much better beatboxers out there, like Razhel. He’s amazing, I’m shit.
How come you didn’t play with a toothbrush or pen tonight?
I left the toothbrush at home and I don’t play with the pen because the cap tends to fly off. Another reason is that it’s off our old record. Every once in a while I’ll do it when I play solo - it’s another point of interest.
You best friend when you were a kid was a chicken called Jennifer. Do you still eat chicken?
No, I don’t but not because of that. I’m just a vegetarian for health reasons. I don’t know where meat comes from it and it weirds me out.
You’ve said before you’re made up of an assortment of different TV sitcom characters. Who are they?
Well, there’s Darlene from Rosanne, a lot of Uncle Jessie from Full House, maybe some Zac Morris from Saved By The Bell and Denise from The Cosby Show.







