Words and Images: Joseph Murphy
Once again, I write from another wildly stellar night at the Hawley Arms, with yet another belting duo of acts selected by the Wolfie’s Whisky team. With the hauntingly precious acoustic vocality of Aussie-born Freya Magee alongside the no-holds barred attitude of Chive, offering up a cross between the harmonies of The Beatles, blended with the ferocious stance of Arctic Monkeys, which arrives in a fashion of lineage (more on that later).
The night sticks as a sure one to remember.
Amidst the room, bathed in red light, Freya Magee steps up, delivering a set which held the room in stout, rapt silence. The singer-songwriter, hailing from Melbourne, Australia has come a long way to touch down in London. With London intertwining itself with her roots, she looks to the city as a nourishing environment for creatives, but with that dual life offering a deeper connection to both within her sound.
“I didn’t really pick up the guitar till lockdown”, says Freya, “I came to London, bought my first guitar on Denmark Street and just started meeting other creatives and musicians. It was such an inclusive creative culture here that people invited me to gigs and it just happened so organically.”
With regard to her split life, halfway across the world, Freya uses her skillset as a writer, not just a lyricist, to paint an image which is nothing short of cinematic, forming a repository of sound, vision and imagination:
“I’ll write a real brief and go through line by line. Where the climax of the song should be, the sort of moody images that go along with that. Maybe the drink that’s served with the song or the activity you should be doing while you’re listening to it.”
“It’s very representative of being multifaceted and sort of having this split life, which I talk about on my song ‘Duplicity’. From Melbourne to London, to being corporate Monday to Friday and then having my creative side in the evenings and weekends.”
Freya is one artist who I see has her hand in many different pots at once. From spending time at Edinburgh Fringe as a playwright, to her day-to-day role as a copywriter, I feel her music simply blends in her influences from across the creative world perfectly.
“When we were kids, we would draw a picture, we’d go run outside, then we’d sing a song and you wouldn’t say, ‘I’m a singer,’ or ‘I’m a hiker.’ You just sort of did things. And I think we need to remember that you can just do things because you love them.”
Splitting off, a totally star-striking performance from Chive. Made up of Eben James (bass, vocals), Jack Blakey (drums, winds) and Ben Rose (lead vocals, guitar), the band are soon to make waves, where I feel I’ve seen something truly special.
The three-piece met whilst at drama school and have been a decade long friendship in musical professionalism. With sensational stage presence, the band (in an opinion I do not state lightly) should soon find themselves in arenas.
“When we were about 20-ish”, begins Ben, “we went up to Manchester to see The Last Shadow Puppets and it was inspiring really, but its sort of come full circle.”
Whilst working on This Town and Line of Duty, Ben crossed paths with Miles Kane’s drummer and was offered to join their tour in January that year.
Ben shares what he learnt: “One of the main things, to be honest, was finding out that you can go on stage, have bravado and have a sort of sense of confidence you know, then come off stage and still be a bit of a sweetie. When you see someone that confident on stage, you must think they must be a nightmare, but all Miles and his folks are lovely.”
“We all work as actors, so crossing paths with some big names is sort of the hope”, says Eben. “but we all take some big inspiration from the greats, I’d say Paul McCartney is one of my biggest inspirations.”
In terms of sound, you can hear with Chive, that element of the Beatles harmony and melodic bass coming through, underneath a grandparental nod with each tune to the attitude and power of Sheffield’s Arctic Monkeys. But Jack Blakey brings in a ghostly, romantic flute, dropping his drumsticks in a sheer surprise for the audience. A stellar band for a stellar night.