Upstairs at Lamberts, an unassuming but upscale BBQ spot downtown, Talise tunes her banjo. The Canadian singer-songwriter is bathed in red lights and strikes her first chords with the hum of the bustling restaurant around her. Like an Americana siren-song, we’re all hooked when Talise opens her mouth. I might be surrounded by gray hair and Canadians, but Talise’s melancholic storytelling abilities unite us. This upstairs bar, accompanied by Talise’s mournful voice, is starting to feel like some mysterious dive we’ve collectively dreamt up.
Talise’s songs are straight from a country front porch; banjo in hand, Talise is folk, blues, and deeply North American. The rich land that shapes her musical sensibilities is present in every strum of the banjo and wistful croon. Teasing new music on the horizon, Talise sings an unreleased track for the first time called “Devil’s Thirst.” The song laments love with an addict: “Now he drinks the bottle / the way he once drank me.” Talise moves back and forth between toe-tappers and slow-moving ballads, and we’re all struck dumb. It’s hard to do much more than listen, enraptured by 40 minutes of powerful storytelling. A broken banjo strap halfway through the set doesn’t slow Talise down: she swaps over to the acoustic guitar and gets right back to breaking our hearts.
Talise isn’t alone on the stage either. She introduces us to Luke Molina on guitar, Jacques Mindreau on fiddle, and Austin’s own Phil Brush on upright bass. Apparently, this is their first time playing together, but you wouldn’t guess it from their easy smiles and charming chemistry on stage. Talise might live nomadically, but this makeshift group reflects the meaningful community music can bring.
Perhaps the highlight of the night is Talise’s second-to-last song, the recent single, “Dog Haired Love.” Backed by strings, Talise’s vocals ring through Lamberts’ upstairs bar. We can’t do much more than hold our breath while the trees in the overcast setting sun wave just outside the windows. She closes with “Country Blues.” It’s the kind of banjo song you’d stumble upon at a record store; like all of Talise’s other songs, it’s timeless, catchy, and full of life. Each song seems to rise up from somewhere deep inside Talise, making way to our ears with the smooth burn of good whiskey.