My introduction to Barb’s music came several years earlier when I stumbled across her interpretation of Bob Dylan’s Blind Willie McTell. That performance led me to the Queens Hall in 2012, another memorable show in 2013, and now, once again, I found myself looking forward to hearing what she would do next. One of the things that keeps drawing me back is that she never approaches a song in the obvious way. Whether she’s interpreting Dylan, Leonard Cohen or her own material, she has a remarkable ability to uncover new layers of meaning in songs you thought you already knew.
Over the years I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Barb and filming several of her performances, so there’s a degree of familiarity that makes these concerts feel a little different. Rather than simply attending another gig, it feels more like catching up with an artist whose work I’ve followed and admired for a long time. That’s not something that happens often.
Festival audiences can be demanding. With so many shows competing for attention, performers have to work hard to hold a crowd. Barb has never had that problem. Her combination of storytelling, humour and emotional honesty creates an immediate connection with the audience. One moment the room is laughing, the next it’s completely silent as everyone hangs on the next lyric.
What I enjoy most about her performances is that they reward careful listening. In an age when so much entertainment is designed to grab your attention instantly, Barb’s music invites you to slow down and spend time with it. The songs reveal more of themselves the longer you listen, which is probably why I keep coming back.
The videos and photographs below capture another wonderful Festival performance from one of Britain’s finest interpreters of song. If you’ve followed my previous posts about Barb Jungr, you’ll already know why I’m such a fan. If this is your first introduction, you’re in for a treat.
Even my son said she was good. High praise indeed from a young ‘un.
The Photos
Cheers!
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