Mike Molish had an exotic dress donned in the Club. Good choice, because the silky-smooth soul where his group Rhye in believe, away from him, a very sultry mating dance.
In the studio excels in the Canadian American in botergeile and at the same time very intimate songs, which he refined and carefully applied as Sade and The xx, but live, he wants to clear the bunches of his mind to shake.
He had a six-man band, with Claire Courchene as a secret weapon on cello and trombone. Also the bassist threw eager soulvolste baslijntjes around. Molish stirred things continue on by himself on the drums to whack in ‘Phoenix’, a song about his practices after his wrecked marriage. In ‘Last dance’ was a greasy wahwahgitaartje place, audience favorite ‘Taste’ was in his wildly wagging tail as a guitar solo.
The intimacy had to suffer, yes, and Molish’ seductive, androgynous soulstem also, but it did make the temperature in the tent a few degrees rise.
In valve ‘Hunger’ was so much sex and funk that All Green us, for the spirit danced, and that was certainly a fine sight. The keuvelende audience threw in a dance move. First one, then two, until everyone, yes, but also we ourselves, to the shaking went. The night promised to be cold, but in our hearts, it was sweltering.