Live - Camille - Brisbane Powerhouse

Reviews, By Cam_in_Bris, 27th January, 2009

When you can get by on your first name alone, you’re usually something special. And so it is with Camille, the performer from Paris who can create an orchestra using only the human body and a lone piano.

But before Brisbane fans caught the chanteuse in full flight at the Powerhouse recently, they heard the floating, folksy vocals of Megan Washington, who sings of simple things with surprising appeal. Washington’s gentle melodies, catchy lyrics and home-spun wisdom would strike a chord with French audiences, and it’s easy to see why she was drafted in as support.

Happy to make an entrance, Camille appeared for her first number in an orange cape, thumping her chest to set the rhythm and instructing her backup singers to do the same. After the theatre of Canards Sauvages (Wild Ducks), La Jeune Fille Aux Cheveux Blancs was struck by simple harmonies that showed off a sweet voice that also has sting.

When the audience failed to follow her in the rapid fire Au Port, she rounded up the French speakers in attendance and demanded they sing the national anthem on the spot. This was the first in a series of Q&A sessions that would see the audience make animal noises on cue (appropriate backing for Cats And Dogs ), and even chant the chorus to Too Drunk To Fuck – a crowd favourite. Undressing a buff backup boy and turning his shirt into a skirt was all part of the fun.

But there were more surprises in store, cooling it down on the piano for Pâle Septembre, before raising the roof during Gospel With No Lord. There was even room for parody in Money Note, where she slags off at those who would upstage her: “If Dolly Parton wrote it / and Whitney Houston stole it / if Celine Dion could reach it / I’ll hit the money note”. Shrieking and shimmying with her backside exposed, this was the first song to bring people to their feet, marvelling at a voice that can switch in its sound and range between numbers.

On the third encore she brought it back to basics, finetuning her backups before acapella versions of Quand Je Marche (an audience request) and Paris, complete with a slide trombone conjured from the lips of Ezra, one of her breathtaking beatboxers.

Capable of crafting ball busting and beautiful music in English and French, Camille is well, Camille. No surname required.

Check out our Camille gallery by clicking here.