Concert Review: Mark Lanegan at The King's Arms

Mark Lanegan. Photo / Supplied

Mark Lanegan looks like the gruff old man of grunge with his scruffy hair and grizzled face.

And he's at his reticent best tonight, hardly meeting the crowd's doting eyes, saying only a few thank yous between songs, and it's clear he's a little twitchy and wrecked from a hard rock'n'roll life.

But that rich and chocolatey voice, that's laced with shards of smooth gravel, is still well-and-truly intact.

The former frontman for raw, psychedelic Seattle rockers Screaming Trees - contemporaries of Nirvana, Soundgarden, and the like - is one of the most enduring, and prolific figures from that era.

As well as having a solid solo career since 1990, over the last decade (following the end of Screaming Trees), Lanegan has become a musical chameleon working with the likes of Queens of the Stone Age, electronic gospel act Soulsavers, and best mate and fellow grunge graduate Greg Dulli in Twilight Singers and, best of all, the Gutter Twins.

But tonight, with just acoustic guitarist Dave Rosser accompanying him, the focus is his solo work - with a few exceptions, including Screaming Trees Where The Twain Shall Meet, and Queens of the Stone Age's Hangin' Tree in the encore.

Opener When Your Number Isn't Up, off his last solo album, Bubblegum, is a dark and sinister tale that sets the mood for the 70-minute set.

Elsewhere there's the head-nodding groove of folk cover Shiloh Town (like Lanegan's very own version of Hallelujah), the nimble mantra of Like Little Willie John, and then he takes us right back to 1990 with the stunningly spare serenade of Wildflowers off his solo debut, The Winding Sheet.

Hangin' Tree as the finale is the most rugged moment of the night - and one thing's certain, the best bit of that song is the dissonant riff, which Rosser makes sound just as heavy on an acoustic.

With only two of them on stage it's a show that's stripped back in the extreme, meaning it hasn't got the climactic power of Gutter Twins, and the visceral mongrel of Screaming Trees. But there's no denying the sombre intensity of the songs.

And even if Lanegan starts sounding a little weary towards the end, it doesn't lack beauty or grit. That haggard and abused yet beautiful voice of his is the sign of a true survivor.