There are some shows that really take you by surprise and quickly enfold you in their arms, shows that make you smile from ear to ear and realise that on a mid-week night in Fremantle at a solidly packed Freo Social people have come together to celebrate all that music can be. It’s that coming together at gigs like this when the air is humid and strangers shake their heads in wonder and you smile back, understanding exactly what they are feeling. It’s nights like these that you feel not just the sense of celebration but the sense of unity – being part of something that has drawn people from all walks of life together, drawn by a beat, pulled in by a flurry of notes and held together as one by the groove. It’s nights like these that open your eyes. What a night…
The Wooten Brothers rolled into Fremantle and delivered a masterclass, a night of sheer joy — an evening of jaw-dropping musicianship, deep funk history lessons, jazz explorations and pure communal joy. From the first note to the final, sweat-drenched crescendo, this was more than a show. It was a gathering of souls.
Before we even get to the Wootens, though, it has to be said: Jaron Jay did not just support — he arrived.
Taking the stage with the swagger of an early Prince, Jay channels that magical early run of albums from For You through to Controversy, but with the funked-up confidence of a Graffiti Bridge-era Purple One. There’s sensuality, musical precision and that magnetic sense that anything could happen next. In a set of predominantly originals “Let Me Down Easy” glides by with silken assurance, and when his keys player steps forward for a beautifully judged sax break, it lifts the room another notch. I’ve not been so impressed with a new artist since I first saw The Teskey Brothers. Jay seems to not only understand the music he creates, but understand how it affects the audience. On top of that he’s a natural front man.
And yes there is more — there’s a knowing nod to Steely Dan’s Aja in the mix, worn proudly (tattoo and all), woven seamlessly into a set that already balances slick sophistication with raw funk instinct. It’s a bold reference point, but Jay has the musicality to carry it. You don’t drop Aja into a Fremantle support slot unless you can back it up — and he can.
This isn’t imitation; it’s inheritance. Jaron Jay looks every inch a future headliner, completely at home on a stage, and he fits perfectly alongside what follows. I for one can’t wait to hear that debut album. It’s a set that doesn’t just make you glad that you saw it, it’s a set that you instantly know will lead to bigger things.
Jaron Jay Gallery
Then come The Wootens — and what a revelation they are.
From the outset, the set dances effortlessly between Stevie Wonder warmth and deep-rooted jazz heritage. “Do You Mind If We Keep It Funky?” is less a question than a statement of intent. Prince’s spirit hovers again, but only in the sense that he too knew what this band of brothers know, that music is inescapably part of our DNA.
Victor Wooten may be the gravitational centre of the band, but what makes the evening special is how each brother’s personality radiates in their solo moments. They’re not indulgent showcases; they’re windows into distinct musical souls. As a guitar man, Regi’s spot is remarkable — pushing the boundaries of a traditional solo until it becomes a rhythmic, percussive workout that leaves the room silent, mouths open in collective awe. At one point a slice of Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir” creeps in between the funk, the riff reshaped and reimagined before dissolving back into the groove.
Roy Future Man’s drums —positioned front of stage for a glorious James Brown-style breakdown — brings the crowd directly into the performance. There’s call and response, there’s sweat, there’s participation. You don’t just watch; you become part of it unconsciously drawn in until you realise that you are part of the whole. And when John Coltrane’s spirit of pure jazz is invoked, it feels entirely natural — another thread in a rich musical endless journey.
The family history woven through the night adds depth to every note. The man who started it all Regi – taught Victor to play at just two years old — taught him one day, and he played a show the next! Joseph was five, Regi ‘The Teacha’ was ten. Man I’d kill to have seen that!
The musical pedigree is endless and Victor reels off his brother’s achievements whilst underplaying his status as one of the greatest bassists the planet has ever seen. There’s collaborations with Whitney Houston and five Grammys in one story alone. We even get a snippet of Steve Miller Band’s “Fly Like an Eagle” as Joseph plays with Steve. It’s a band intro that feels so warm and makes you realise the depth of talent and musical legacy on the stage. It all feeds the telepathic interplay on stage.
There’s humour too. A riff on Australia — “no place like Australia” — complete with six-foot spiders and kangaroos (“I’m afraid of those too!”) — leads straight into a beautiful “My Cherie Amour.” Keys take centre stage, three brothers watching from stage right as Joseph unleashes a flurry of bumblebee notes, slipping into classical fragments before a robot-voiced “I love you” floats across the room. “I’m so happy I could scream,” he declares — and you believe him.
The groove stretches and tightens again. “Sweat” carries a distinct Time-like strut. and becomes an extended, elastic funk workout, deliciously Prince-infused. The Wooten Dance takes hold. “Can you feel this room?” comes the call. Phrases are cast out into the crowd between the musical mayhem: “We can move together — soul power. People may try to divide us…” It’s more casually chosen words; it’s belief, a truth that everyone in the room can feel – in this moment we are as one, we are all together. It’s wonderful. As they tell us” If you can’t feel this groove, it’s not their fault.” I look around and I can see not a single person who cannot feel this groove.
By the time the encore detonates into James Brown’s “Sex Machine,” the room is unified — one pulsing organism. The finale spirals through shifting time signatures — E minor figures tumbling through 17s, 7s, 6s, counting down 4-3-2-1 — building into a triumphant crescendo. Guitar and bass are played over shoulders, instruments swapped, grins everywhere. Showmanship, yes — but also brotherhood.
That’s my lasting impression. Brotherhood. Not just the brothers. All of us here tonight.
The Wooten Brothers aren’t just incredible technicians — though they are of course all of that in abundance. They’re a band of brothers you feel an instant connection with. Their distinct personalities shine in every solo spot. Their history informs every note. Their joy is infectious. From Jaron Jay’s star-is-born opening statement with it’s Steely Dan cool and Prince-like fire — to the final sweat-soaked funk explosion, this was an evening of sheer joy.
Can you feel this room? We could. We all could. And we all moved together.
Thanks to Gerard Allman & Maric Media for the access. Photos by Shotweiler Photography.
Victor Wooten & The Wooten Brothers Gallery
