Kitty, Daisy & Lewis @ NAC
It’s a vibrant delight.
The magic of Kitty, Daisy and Lewis perhaps lies in their transportive powers, the ability to inspire a collective memory of a time gone by in a room of people, even in those of us who weren’t there the first time around. These natural stage creatures nail beat after beat from the moment Daisy struts out waving a tambourine over her head until the dying wails of Lewis’ guitar a set and an encore later.
Between all the instrumental switching each of the siblings get their chance to be front and centre. Maybe it’s the performers’ equivalent of sharing your toys, or taking turns to sit in the front seat, but in any case they’re really not half bad in their own rights. Daisy powers through her roles with smooth ferocity. Lewis brings a steady hand and classic rock and roll sensibilities. Kitty is a lesson in sass, though the sight of a leather-catsuited woman gyrating with a harmonica three feet in front of her mum (Ingrid Weiss, here on bass duty) is enough to make anyone feel a little bit confused. In fact they’re all just kind of endearingly weird. It’s brilliant.
Checking off genre by genre KD&L hit each on the head with aplomb and in a room with red flower lights crawling up the walls and a floor full of grooving Norfolkians it’s hard not to get swept up in the whole thing. This setup is fraught with danger but even when the equipment is playing up and mic stands are falling apart the trio shrug it off, blazing a warm, infectious trail through those Fender amps and bringing the house down with them. It’s a vibrant delight.
