Sweat pours off Jackson Jackson frontman Harry James Angus as he stands centrestage like a zealous preacher - head bowed, arm outstretched, captivating the masses with drama and prose. The entire Melbourne-based seasonal population of Byron Bay have crammed into the Beach Hotel for this very special gig. Locals who have never heard of Jackson Jackson are converted after a moment's confusion.
And they are all losing it.
Apart from a prior commitment photographing bikini shots at La La Land, Jackson Jackson had me buzzing from soundcheck to when the ugly lights come on. Dear God... the hooded female vocalists, their sheer vocal power, the tension, the release, the exquisite rarity of genre-defying performance... it's almost too much to handle. I can safely say, you have never seen anything like Jackson Jackson (and if I'm wrong about that, I'd really like to know).
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