Review: Papa Peet at The Duke of George

Papa Peet at The Duke of George
Friday, August 23, 2024

Brooding, fleet-fingered guitarist? Check. Big-bearded soul singer with a growl and a sideline in falsetto? Check. Locked in rhythm section? Check. Showboating, hoo-hah, razzmattaz? Nah, mate, wrong house. These boys are just gonna get on stage and play their socks off.

Papa Peet are the latest descendent of Perth blues-rock legends Old Blood. They did their roots proud for their gig Friday night at The Duke of George, East Freo’s designated defenders of the groove. When Jules Peet strapped on the SG and got that little light shining on the Deluxe Reverb, we got sweet wavering slides and tremolo wobble that suited a little Nina Simone number just fine. 

Tony Papa-Adams layered on grunt and growl, which doubtless plucked a lot of heartstrings that hadn’t even had time to warm up yet, and Peet’s slitherings up and down the fretboard transmogrified into vintage guitar hero business. But before Albert Collins’ lawyers could sue, they were muscled out of the way by a different pack of attorneys who seemed to be representing Ray Charles. It seems Papa-Adams got range…

No time to waste, as the band jumped sideways straight away, honking guitars and a sweet high tone that would do a penguin or a crow or an oriole—or any other Los Angeleno doo-wopster—proud. No need for a light show tonight, with a loping groove that sucked in the unwary and a slide guitar to roll over it all.

Changing gears again, the band served up a brooding Spoonful. Dark darting stabs from the guitar, bass and drums locked in while the melodies surged and yammered. Like Howlin’ Wolf said, good enough for me. Next thing you know, the groove seemed to be taking us to the river, but no, it wasn’t Al Green after all. How about a spooky, beautiful slide guitar taking us to Morley, one of the nicest suburbs in its immediate area? Even got a road named after it. After one more tune in the first set, there were more compressed and controlled Brother Ray vocals and some snarling agression from that guitar.

The second set gave punters more of the same, and in the end they admitted that, yes, they did want to boogie. There were lots of highlights and no lowlights, somehow. Moving into a suite of Texas blues, the beautiful—and at times, spooky—slide guitar poured out so much honey that the diabetics had to move to the back.

The band moved from intensity to stillness, torrents to limpid pools and back, playing the crowd like a fiddle, never wearing out any groove’s welcome. Now the floor was filled, and some New Orleans second line served up just the right energy. Pretty soon the Supper Club crowd was dancing and singing along like it was two in the morning at the Maple Leaf. Get me a taxi to Uptown, stat.

If you like the hoot, the holler, and the croon of rhythm, blues and soul, you won’t do much better than Papa Peet. And though they use the very finest ingredients, never fear; they bake their own distinctive cakes. The new single is Romely, and it is out next Friday. Do yourself a favour…

MIKE JEFFREY

Photos by Alan Holbrook