Saw this gig two nights in a row, once in Sydney and once in Melbourne.
Cobra Starship
Cobra Starship were lots of high energy fun, as usual. Frontman Gabe Saporta continues to have the best grasp of showmanship I've ever seen live, he really knows how to work a crowd. In Melbourne they were even more animated than the night before, with Gabe mouthing off at a mile a minute between songs, jumping all over the stage, hanging off his bandmates as he sang for an already enthusiastic crowd. They were fun, as always, though they played exactly the same set in both cities, and were running close to the script with regards to banter.
The City Is At War
Hey Mr DJ
The Church of Hot Addiction
Smile for the Paparazzi
Snakes on a Plane
(Hollaback Boy)
Guilty Pleasure
The Academy Is...
The Academy Is... were much improved from when I saw them last. The two new songs they playedm, from the just released third album Fast Times at Barrington High, worked well live, and were well received by the audience. William Beckett remains a really earnest frontman, though they were slower to warm to the crowd in Melbourne, with less banter and connection.
Their set list overall was a bit odd though, not enough high points with lesser known songs from older albums. They slightly reshuffled of the set in Melbourne, though they played the same songs in both cities, much to my disappointment.
Neighbors
Slow Down
Forever Young = Summer Hair
The Phrase That Pays
We've Got a Big Mess on our Hands
About A Girl
Everything We Had
Checkmarks
Panic at the Disco
Like the other bands, Panic at the Disco played the same set in both cities with banter along similar lines, though there was spontaneity in how they'd react to the crowds' response, and warmth in how much they enjoyed performing. Concerts in stadiums have crap sound, usually, and unfortunately it was true of both Sydney and Melbourne - the mix was uneven such that I could always hear one guitar over the other, and while that meant I got to enjoy Ryan Ross guitar solos very clearly, moments like Brendon Urie's solo in Pas De Cheval had lesser impact, sounding muddier and lost in the mix.
The band had new arrangements of older songs, trying to bridge the difference in sound between their first and second albums, and they sounded good. Apart from the musical aspect, they played such a *warm* show, all light and joy (and flowers and bubbles!), and it reflected the atmosphere of the set.
Fans kept throwing thing on stage, which made for some enjoyable interaction between band and crowd - at one point, Ryan repeated "Brendon just got paid!" since a total of 65 cents had been thrown at Brendon. And I laughed when Ryan declared proudly that he was keeping '20p'. Wrong country! But it was a nice exchange, indicative of how relaxed and amused the band were on stage.
We're So Starving
Nine in the Afternoon
But It's Better If You Do
Camisado
She's a Handsome Woman
The Only Difference Between Martyrdom And Suicide Is Press Coverage
Behind the Sea
Lying Is The Most Fun A Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off
I Constantly Thank God For Esteban
That Green Gentleman
There's A Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven't Figured It Out Yet
Folkin' Around
I Write Sins, Not Tragedies
Northern Downpour
-
Time to Dance (acoustic)
Pas De Cheval
Mad as Rabbits
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Death Cab for Cutie - 19 Aug 2008 - Oxford Art Factory
They started with Champagne from a Paper Cup, and from there played a short set of rather obscure song choices. One for the diehard fans, with barely any singles (and not the well known ones), reaching back to their second album (of six), barely a nod to their best known albums, and and two non-single, slower songs from their latest.
It seemed to make sense - an intimate gig in an intimate venue for the hardcore fans - BUT the problem was the gig didn't feel intimate at all. Because it was recorded and broadcast live for myspaceTV, the focus seemed to be on reaching the audience out there, watching on their screens, and not those who were crowded at the band's feet.
Ben Gibbard's banter was for those watching online; all the live audience got was a passive aggressive telling-off for talking (you, in the front row!). Though Chris Walla got in a terrible pun that I liked at the end, when they were talking about the possibility of this gig being watched on the space station, and suddenly this voice pipes up from the side, "Myspace station, heh heh heh!"
I enjoyed this gig anyway - it was free, I got to see Death Cab live again, I got to hear songs I wouldn't normally expect to hear live.
Champagne from a Paper Cup
A Movie Script Ending
405
Talking Bird
Grapevine Fires
Photobooth
Title and Registration (video)
It seemed to make sense - an intimate gig in an intimate venue for the hardcore fans - BUT the problem was the gig didn't feel intimate at all. Because it was recorded and broadcast live for myspaceTV, the focus seemed to be on reaching the audience out there, watching on their screens, and not those who were crowded at the band's feet.
Ben Gibbard's banter was for those watching online; all the live audience got was a passive aggressive telling-off for talking (you, in the front row!). Though Chris Walla got in a terrible pun that I liked at the end, when they were talking about the possibility of this gig being watched on the space station, and suddenly this voice pipes up from the side, "Myspace station, heh heh heh!"
I enjoyed this gig anyway - it was free, I got to see Death Cab live again, I got to hear songs I wouldn't normally expect to hear live.
Champagne from a Paper Cup
A Movie Script Ending
405
Talking Bird
Grapevine Fires
Photobooth
Title and Registration (video)
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Band of Horses - 5 Aug 2008 - The Metro
I'm kind of stuck on "IT WAS AWESOME THEY WERE AMAZING I WANT TO MARRY BEN BRIDWELL'S VOICE". It's tempered on the CD and sounds pure and sweet, but live it just rings and soars. Even when it shouldn't sound so warm, when phrases end in yelps, it sounds like a bell, high and clear. Normally, I get very restless during slow songs, and the middle of the set was packed with softer moments, but I just closed my eyes and let the music wash over me in bliss. The musicianship of the whole band was great, particularly in the guitar work which reminds me of the good parts of classic rock, and the blues. It just sounded so so good overall, note-perfect but with heart and atmosphere that makes a live show worth it.
Apart from the music itself, the band were fun and relaxed on stage, bantering amongst themselves (culminating, at one point, with a foul-mouthed rant from their keyboardist, Ryan Monroe, about New Zealanders and sheep) as well as joking with the audience. Upon being greeted with the typical Whooooooooo! of excitement as they took to the stage at the start, Ben Bridwell returned the call, and would do so throughout the night, a goodnaturedly mocking call and response. A happy fan exclaimed, after a rollicking first four songs, "You guys sound great!" which fell upon a unexpected hush over the room, such that it carried not only the stage but all through the theatre. The band laughed and acknowledged the fannish adoration, attributing it all to the sound guy. They just seemed very easygoing as performers, and cutely aware of the relationship between them and their audience; as they sounded out the very well-known and probably very eagerly awaited for first notes of their best known track, The Funeral, Ben Bridwell called out that this was their "fake last song", and at the end bid us their "fake goodbye", a nod and a wink at the encore to come.
Certain other things kept me amused during the night - the crazy, pogo-ing fan who managed to jump up and down excitedly during every song, regardless of the tempo or mood; the fact that BoH may well be one of the most hirsuit bands I have ever seen and their fans likewise (it was truly a Band of Beards, with muttonchops and moustaches aplenty on the 5/6ths I could see) - but what kept the smile on my face was the band's amazing talent and the wonderful songs. From familiar singles to older songs to fantastic covers to audience sing-a-long as Ben Bridwell pointed first to us and them himself in the refrain of "you...me..." in The General Specific that ended the night, the overwhelming feeling was one of joy, from the band and reflected back by the crowd.
Is There A Ghost
The Great Salt Lake
Islands on the Coast
Weed Party
? (featured a harmonica)
Thirteen Days (J.J. Cale cover)
Marry Song
Cigarettes, Wedding Bands
The First Song
No One Goes Out Anymore (Tyler Ramsey)
Detlef Schrempf
Older (Ryan Monroe)
No One's Gonna Love You
Ode to LRC
Wicked Gil
The Funeral
Our Swords
Am I A Good Man (Them Two cover)
General Specific
Apart from the music itself, the band were fun and relaxed on stage, bantering amongst themselves (culminating, at one point, with a foul-mouthed rant from their keyboardist, Ryan Monroe, about New Zealanders and sheep) as well as joking with the audience. Upon being greeted with the typical Whooooooooo! of excitement as they took to the stage at the start, Ben Bridwell returned the call, and would do so throughout the night, a goodnaturedly mocking call and response. A happy fan exclaimed, after a rollicking first four songs, "You guys sound great!" which fell upon a unexpected hush over the room, such that it carried not only the stage but all through the theatre. The band laughed and acknowledged the fannish adoration, attributing it all to the sound guy. They just seemed very easygoing as performers, and cutely aware of the relationship between them and their audience; as they sounded out the very well-known and probably very eagerly awaited for first notes of their best known track, The Funeral, Ben Bridwell called out that this was their "fake last song", and at the end bid us their "fake goodbye", a nod and a wink at the encore to come.
Certain other things kept me amused during the night - the crazy, pogo-ing fan who managed to jump up and down excitedly during every song, regardless of the tempo or mood; the fact that BoH may well be one of the most hirsuit bands I have ever seen and their fans likewise (it was truly a Band of Beards, with muttonchops and moustaches aplenty on the 5/6ths I could see) - but what kept the smile on my face was the band's amazing talent and the wonderful songs. From familiar singles to older songs to fantastic covers to audience sing-a-long as Ben Bridwell pointed first to us and them himself in the refrain of "you...me..." in The General Specific that ended the night, the overwhelming feeling was one of joy, from the band and reflected back by the crowd.
Is There A Ghost
The Great Salt Lake
Islands on the Coast
Weed Party
? (featured a harmonica)
Thirteen Days (J.J. Cale cover)
Marry Song
Cigarettes, Wedding Bands
The First Song
No One Goes Out Anymore (Tyler Ramsey)
Detlef Schrempf
Older (Ryan Monroe)
No One's Gonna Love You
Ode to LRC
Wicked Gil
The Funeral
Our Swords
Am I A Good Man (Them Two cover)
General Specific
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Jens Lekman - 8 Mar 2008 - Manning Bar
Jens Lekman was only in Sydney two months ago, playing a solo gig at The Vanguard, plus a cosy impromptu set afterwards to a group of lucky fans milling outside the venue. But here he was again, this time performing to a much larger crowd in Manning Bar at the University of Sydney. Though when the live experience is this charming and enjoyable though, one can hardly quibble about the frequency with which it comes around.
Luckily for those who may have missed these shows, there is still hope: while most musicians will claim an affinity for Australia while touring here, Lekman actually moved to Melbourne this year to escape his Swedish home, the sleepy suburb immortalised in the title of his latest offering Night Falls Over Kortedala.
Lekman takes to the stage late in the evening, a small figure dressed down in a jumper and neat slacks, his hair light and rather fluffy under the lights, looking more like a friendly accountant than an internationally acclaimed musician. Yet the crowd is vocally enthusiastic in their welcome, and he responds with the first verse of “I’m Leaving You Because I Don’t Love You”, his unaccompanied voice strong and clear.
The set draws heavily from Kortedala, his third full-length album, providing plenty of ethereal lush pop songs, ranging from the seemingly upbeat paean to loneliness “The Opposite of Hallelujah” to melancholy ballad “Shirin”. While the album, with its strings and horns and trilling flutes over samples and jaunty beats, can seem sickly sweet at times, in live performance the songs are warm and charming Lekman rotates between strumming his guitar, pressing the keys, or dancing as he sings, supported by his Swedish-Australian five piece on drums, bass, cello and violin, as well as one member in charge of sampling from a laptop onstage, providing instrumentation – trumpet, additional strings - in the absence of the real thing. Jens’ baritone, with its slight tremolo, the clipped sounds betraying his accent, may not be a powerhouse vocal but its suits his music perfectly, gentle and pleasant to the ears.
Lekman has stated on his blog what he loves about pop music is “everything that is unique and personal”. This is evident in his approach to his own music, with songs crafted around imperfect memories of conversations and events in his life, and never more ably demonstrated than in “A Postcard to Nina”, a song presented as correspondence between Jens and his German friend Nina, narrating an awkward family dinner during which Nina, a lesbian, hides behind the fiction that Jens is her boyfriend for the sake of her elderly conservative father. In performance, with the skill of a seasoned raconteur, Lekman adds a spoken prologue, and throws in new details, dramatic pauses, even the hint of different voices to draw out the tale within his song.
Such anecdotes are peppered through the whole night, not only tying the songs together, but imbuing them with additional meaning that serves both to bond Lekman with his audience, and his audience with each other as a worldwide collective of captivated fans. An older track, “Black Cab”, is introduced by way of a story about the Turkish fan who could only identify his favourite song by its two note refrain; while another story about Florentine fans disgruntled by Jens’ kind words about their hometown leads to Jens yelling “F*** Sydney!” in a deadpan voice that has the crowd giggling in knowing appreciation.
Lekman further establishes his ability to use any moment in his personal and professional life as creative material by turning Google map directions, used to guide taxi drivers from his home in Sweden to the airport (Kortedala, apparently, being akin to a labyrinth – easy to get into but hard to leave), into a song he introduces as “New Directions”. It is this personal and unique storytelling element that elevates Lekman’s songs and performance to the sublime. He attempts, and arguably succeeds, in capturing everyday experiences – love, loneliness, regrets, infatuation, grief – with a wistfulness that acknowledges the shifting impermanence of memory, and with a keen eye for observation that is almost sociological, revealing depths of in the seemingly mundane moments of life.
So it is understandable that when Lekman leaves the stage after only an hour, disappointment is evident in the murmurs of the crowd. But Lekman returns, first with his band for two more songs, including a rousing rendition of “A Sweet Summer’s Night On Hammer Hill” that culminates with band members climbing out from behind their instruments to swerve around the stage, arms outstretched in joyous dance.
Jens then comes back onstage for a three song solo encore, throwing in some more dryly amusing banter - “This is a song about a girl. You may ask, Jens, why do you write so many songs about girls? (pause) I like girls.” - followed by an interactive exercise, one more way of drawing the crowd to him. He divides them into two sections; those with “darker voices” are called to sing the chorus, while those with “lighter voices…shut up.” And yet closer “Pocketful of Money” resounds with both dark and light voices, the entire crowd eager to be included in the Jens Lekman experience, to maybe find themselves the subject of another story to be told to another crowd on another night like this in his future.
Luckily for those who may have missed these shows, there is still hope: while most musicians will claim an affinity for Australia while touring here, Lekman actually moved to Melbourne this year to escape his Swedish home, the sleepy suburb immortalised in the title of his latest offering Night Falls Over Kortedala.
Lekman takes to the stage late in the evening, a small figure dressed down in a jumper and neat slacks, his hair light and rather fluffy under the lights, looking more like a friendly accountant than an internationally acclaimed musician. Yet the crowd is vocally enthusiastic in their welcome, and he responds with the first verse of “I’m Leaving You Because I Don’t Love You”, his unaccompanied voice strong and clear.
The set draws heavily from Kortedala, his third full-length album, providing plenty of ethereal lush pop songs, ranging from the seemingly upbeat paean to loneliness “The Opposite of Hallelujah” to melancholy ballad “Shirin”. While the album, with its strings and horns and trilling flutes over samples and jaunty beats, can seem sickly sweet at times, in live performance the songs are warm and charming Lekman rotates between strumming his guitar, pressing the keys, or dancing as he sings, supported by his Swedish-Australian five piece on drums, bass, cello and violin, as well as one member in charge of sampling from a laptop onstage, providing instrumentation – trumpet, additional strings - in the absence of the real thing. Jens’ baritone, with its slight tremolo, the clipped sounds betraying his accent, may not be a powerhouse vocal but its suits his music perfectly, gentle and pleasant to the ears.
Lekman has stated on his blog what he loves about pop music is “everything that is unique and personal”. This is evident in his approach to his own music, with songs crafted around imperfect memories of conversations and events in his life, and never more ably demonstrated than in “A Postcard to Nina”, a song presented as correspondence between Jens and his German friend Nina, narrating an awkward family dinner during which Nina, a lesbian, hides behind the fiction that Jens is her boyfriend for the sake of her elderly conservative father. In performance, with the skill of a seasoned raconteur, Lekman adds a spoken prologue, and throws in new details, dramatic pauses, even the hint of different voices to draw out the tale within his song.
Such anecdotes are peppered through the whole night, not only tying the songs together, but imbuing them with additional meaning that serves both to bond Lekman with his audience, and his audience with each other as a worldwide collective of captivated fans. An older track, “Black Cab”, is introduced by way of a story about the Turkish fan who could only identify his favourite song by its two note refrain; while another story about Florentine fans disgruntled by Jens’ kind words about their hometown leads to Jens yelling “F*** Sydney!” in a deadpan voice that has the crowd giggling in knowing appreciation.
Lekman further establishes his ability to use any moment in his personal and professional life as creative material by turning Google map directions, used to guide taxi drivers from his home in Sweden to the airport (Kortedala, apparently, being akin to a labyrinth – easy to get into but hard to leave), into a song he introduces as “New Directions”. It is this personal and unique storytelling element that elevates Lekman’s songs and performance to the sublime. He attempts, and arguably succeeds, in capturing everyday experiences – love, loneliness, regrets, infatuation, grief – with a wistfulness that acknowledges the shifting impermanence of memory, and with a keen eye for observation that is almost sociological, revealing depths of in the seemingly mundane moments of life.
So it is understandable that when Lekman leaves the stage after only an hour, disappointment is evident in the murmurs of the crowd. But Lekman returns, first with his band for two more songs, including a rousing rendition of “A Sweet Summer’s Night On Hammer Hill” that culminates with band members climbing out from behind their instruments to swerve around the stage, arms outstretched in joyous dance.
Jens then comes back onstage for a three song solo encore, throwing in some more dryly amusing banter - “This is a song about a girl. You may ask, Jens, why do you write so many songs about girls? (pause) I like girls.” - followed by an interactive exercise, one more way of drawing the crowd to him. He divides them into two sections; those with “darker voices” are called to sing the chorus, while those with “lighter voices…shut up.” And yet closer “Pocketful of Money” resounds with both dark and light voices, the entire crowd eager to be included in the Jens Lekman experience, to maybe find themselves the subject of another story to be told to another crowd on another night like this in his future.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Juno / No Country For Old Men / There Will Be Blood
Oscar best picture nominees in quick review:
Juno (d. Jason Reitman)
I found this charming, if rather obviously aiming to be lovably quirky and indie. I really like Ellen Page as Juno - I think, in portraying a prickly kind of character, her best work is in the glimpses of the softer girl inside. Michael Cera is adorable, even if he is playing the same character as always; the rest of the supporting cast are great (particularly J.K. Simmons as Juno's dad, and Jennifer Garner as the uptight but desperately maternal Vanessa) and do their best even with broadly characterised parts. I like where the story went though, ethically tricky as it could've been, not judging Juno for becoming pregnant, not judging her nor explaining in depth the choices she makes, just allowing her to be a confused but smart sixteen year old with some big decisions to navigate.
No Country for Old Men (d. Joel and Ethan Coen)
Bleak but beautiful in its cruel way. Llewellyn Moss (Josh Brolin) takes $2million out of a drug deal gone wrong, and a scarily focussed killer (Javier Bardem) tracks him down for a form of justice. There are some immensely suspenseful moments in this, the pacing just-so for them maximum heart-in-mouth moments, and the killings, even as they decrease in violence, increase in meaning and heartache. Excellent supporting cast - Tommy Lee Jones plays his straightforward sheriff with just the right amount of bewilderment and wisdom as he contemplates a world more violent than he can patrol, and Kelly Macdonald really surprises as Moss' southern wife.
There Will Be Blood (d. Paul Thomas Anderson)
This has a fantastically tight and interesting first half, but then it meanders and comes apart under the weight of its own ambitions. Daniel Day-Lewis is good as Daniel Plainview, but in that epic histrionic way; Paul Dano has his moments as brothers Eli and Paul Sunday, but in that finale just loses against the insanity of Day-Lewis' Plainview (in so many ways). I felt the movie's 2hr 40min running time greatly by the end. It does do some wonderful things in conveying concepts of family and greed in the struggle of the man within the monster. Loved the use of sound and score, particularly in that sparse beginning, with the shrill alien noises against the empty landscape, the rhythm of the mines as Plainview works his way to a fortune.
Juno (d. Jason Reitman)
I found this charming, if rather obviously aiming to be lovably quirky and indie. I really like Ellen Page as Juno - I think, in portraying a prickly kind of character, her best work is in the glimpses of the softer girl inside. Michael Cera is adorable, even if he is playing the same character as always; the rest of the supporting cast are great (particularly J.K. Simmons as Juno's dad, and Jennifer Garner as the uptight but desperately maternal Vanessa) and do their best even with broadly characterised parts. I like where the story went though, ethically tricky as it could've been, not judging Juno for becoming pregnant, not judging her nor explaining in depth the choices she makes, just allowing her to be a confused but smart sixteen year old with some big decisions to navigate.
No Country for Old Men (d. Joel and Ethan Coen)
Bleak but beautiful in its cruel way. Llewellyn Moss (Josh Brolin) takes $2million out of a drug deal gone wrong, and a scarily focussed killer (Javier Bardem) tracks him down for a form of justice. There are some immensely suspenseful moments in this, the pacing just-so for them maximum heart-in-mouth moments, and the killings, even as they decrease in violence, increase in meaning and heartache. Excellent supporting cast - Tommy Lee Jones plays his straightforward sheriff with just the right amount of bewilderment and wisdom as he contemplates a world more violent than he can patrol, and Kelly Macdonald really surprises as Moss' southern wife.
There Will Be Blood (d. Paul Thomas Anderson)
This has a fantastically tight and interesting first half, but then it meanders and comes apart under the weight of its own ambitions. Daniel Day-Lewis is good as Daniel Plainview, but in that epic histrionic way; Paul Dano has his moments as brothers Eli and Paul Sunday, but in that finale just loses against the insanity of Day-Lewis' Plainview (in so many ways). I felt the movie's 2hr 40min running time greatly by the end. It does do some wonderful things in conveying concepts of family and greed in the struggle of the man within the monster. Loved the use of sound and score, particularly in that sparse beginning, with the shrill alien noises against the empty landscape, the rhythm of the mines as Plainview works his way to a fortune.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Rufus Wainwright - 29 Jan 2008 - State Theatre
This was a fabulous show, musically beautiful, and really fun because Rufus Wainwright’s personality really shone through the performance. It didn’t hurt that he played a great long show (2+ hours), mostly of songs from his latest album Release the Stars, but with wonderful dips into the repertoire from all over his career, from old favourites to an Irish folk song taught to him by his mother to a couple of songs from his acclaimed Judy Garland show.
He started out the night in a multicoloured striped suit dotted with more sparkly brooches (and matched nicely by his band in *slightly* more subdued costume), singing the title track from Release the Stars, followed by a stint at the piano for Going to a Town, then strapping on a guitar for the song after that. He, and most members of his seven piece band, were skilled multi-instrumentalists, playing everything from recorder to banjo. Apart from the fantastic musicianship, the show was a lively affair with costume changes – Rufus performed the second set in lederhosen, then returned for the encore in a fluffy white bathrobe which concealed the surprise in store for the finale; fan participation; deprecating humour and arch little asides, and a fair bit of off-the-cuff banter that drew the audience into his confidence and under his spell.
Highlights for me were The Art Teacher, which was just fantastic live: the piano bass ominous and dark, and yet sounding so so lovely and warm in regret with the French horn accompaniment; and Do I Disappoint You, an Eastern toned song full of major-to-minor chords that give it this weird shifting feel, and live it opens up into this amazing piece, baroque in its instrumentation, giving it a wild sound. It starts off with just the guitar and the electric guitar, an almost harsh strict intro, and after the massive build up of the song, it ends with just a flute at the end, a balance of sweet leavening the bitter.
Rufus’ lovely, chocolate-rich voice was showcased so well in so many different ways; apart from his own songs, he performed two numbers from his Judy Garland at the Carnegie Hall 1961 show - a Gershwin (A Foggy Day) and a Noel Coward piece (If Love Were All) - accompanied only by a piano; and after he remarked admiringly on the decor of the State Theatre again and wondering whether it had any history as a vaudeville theatre, he stepped away from the microphone into an actual vaudeville-like performance of an Irish folk song his mother, singer Kate McGarrigle, taught him, I was pleasantly surprised by how well his voice carried in the theatre without amplification, even over the diminished acoustic band accompanying him.
It seemed the finale would be a rousing finale of 14th Street, ending with an extended jam after Rufus left the stage, as each musician took their turn showcasing their skill on their instrument, then bowing out until only the banjo/guitar player was left to do a solo. However, there was an encore, and oh, what an encore. Rufus came back on stage in a white fluffy bathrobe, and proceeded as if nothing was amiss.
After two older songs, both well received (Poses, with Rufus solo on the piano, was just as lovely as I could’ve ever hoped for), the stage darkened, and he moved to the front of the stage and sat down on a chair there. He then put on some more shiny jewellery, holding up each piece to the light for the audience to see; then carefully applied bright red lipstick; then cheekily held up a pair of black heels to applause before putting them on; and as he moved back onto the dim stage, a band member dove out to stand behind him to protect his modesty while he removed the bathrobe to reveal Rufus channelling Judy Garland in no more than a black fedora, a tailored black suit jacket, and shapely legs in opaque stockings and heels. The ensuing performance of Get Happy was awesome – yes, happy, and so so much fun, with band members diving all over the stage in enthusiastic choreography around Rufus as he danced and strutted and performed his divalicious heart out – with the audience obviously, audibly appreciative of the theatrics and joy of the act.
And then to round out the night, a nice performance of Gay Messiah; though overshadowed by the immensely enjoyable piece before it, it served as a good summary of the Rufus Wainwright experience – full of the good sly humour he’d shown all night long, the subversiveness of words and song, the wonderful music.
Release the Stars
Going to a Town
Sans Souci
Rules and Regulations
Matinee Idol
The Art Teacher
Tiergarten
Leaving for Paris
Between My Legs
-
The Consort
Do I Disappoint You
A Foggy Day
If Love Were All
Beautiful Child
Not Ready for Love
Slideshow
Macushlah
14th Street
-
I Don’t Know What It Is
Poses
Get Happy
Gay Messiah
He started out the night in a multicoloured striped suit dotted with more sparkly brooches (and matched nicely by his band in *slightly* more subdued costume), singing the title track from Release the Stars, followed by a stint at the piano for Going to a Town, then strapping on a guitar for the song after that. He, and most members of his seven piece band, were skilled multi-instrumentalists, playing everything from recorder to banjo. Apart from the fantastic musicianship, the show was a lively affair with costume changes – Rufus performed the second set in lederhosen, then returned for the encore in a fluffy white bathrobe which concealed the surprise in store for the finale; fan participation; deprecating humour and arch little asides, and a fair bit of off-the-cuff banter that drew the audience into his confidence and under his spell.
Highlights for me were The Art Teacher, which was just fantastic live: the piano bass ominous and dark, and yet sounding so so lovely and warm in regret with the French horn accompaniment; and Do I Disappoint You, an Eastern toned song full of major-to-minor chords that give it this weird shifting feel, and live it opens up into this amazing piece, baroque in its instrumentation, giving it a wild sound. It starts off with just the guitar and the electric guitar, an almost harsh strict intro, and after the massive build up of the song, it ends with just a flute at the end, a balance of sweet leavening the bitter.
Rufus’ lovely, chocolate-rich voice was showcased so well in so many different ways; apart from his own songs, he performed two numbers from his Judy Garland at the Carnegie Hall 1961 show - a Gershwin (A Foggy Day) and a Noel Coward piece (If Love Were All) - accompanied only by a piano; and after he remarked admiringly on the decor of the State Theatre again and wondering whether it had any history as a vaudeville theatre, he stepped away from the microphone into an actual vaudeville-like performance of an Irish folk song his mother, singer Kate McGarrigle, taught him, I was pleasantly surprised by how well his voice carried in the theatre without amplification, even over the diminished acoustic band accompanying him.
It seemed the finale would be a rousing finale of 14th Street, ending with an extended jam after Rufus left the stage, as each musician took their turn showcasing their skill on their instrument, then bowing out until only the banjo/guitar player was left to do a solo. However, there was an encore, and oh, what an encore. Rufus came back on stage in a white fluffy bathrobe, and proceeded as if nothing was amiss.
After two older songs, both well received (Poses, with Rufus solo on the piano, was just as lovely as I could’ve ever hoped for), the stage darkened, and he moved to the front of the stage and sat down on a chair there. He then put on some more shiny jewellery, holding up each piece to the light for the audience to see; then carefully applied bright red lipstick; then cheekily held up a pair of black heels to applause before putting them on; and as he moved back onto the dim stage, a band member dove out to stand behind him to protect his modesty while he removed the bathrobe to reveal Rufus channelling Judy Garland in no more than a black fedora, a tailored black suit jacket, and shapely legs in opaque stockings and heels. The ensuing performance of Get Happy was awesome – yes, happy, and so so much fun, with band members diving all over the stage in enthusiastic choreography around Rufus as he danced and strutted and performed his divalicious heart out – with the audience obviously, audibly appreciative of the theatrics and joy of the act.
And then to round out the night, a nice performance of Gay Messiah; though overshadowed by the immensely enjoyable piece before it, it served as a good summary of the Rufus Wainwright experience – full of the good sly humour he’d shown all night long, the subversiveness of words and song, the wonderful music.
Release the Stars
Going to a Town
Sans Souci
Rules and Regulations
Matinee Idol
The Art Teacher
Tiergarten
Leaving for Paris
Between My Legs
-
The Consort
Do I Disappoint You
A Foggy Day
If Love Were All
Beautiful Child
Not Ready for Love
Slideshow
Macushlah
14th Street
-
I Don’t Know What It Is
Poses
Get Happy
Gay Messiah
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Brand New - 24 Jan 2008 - Enmore Theatre
It wasn’t until mid-afternoon that we heard that the previously unannounced support act was heavily rumoured to be Jesse Lacey (lead singer of Brand New) himself, doing an acoustic set. So just before 8 we went in and waited impatiently on an already quite packed floor. 8 came and went, then 8:15, and there was a twinge of doubt settling in; but finally, just before 8:30, Lacey walked out onto the dim, green-blue backlit stage to great cheers, and proceeded to play a short but beautiful acoustic set.
untitled 1
Play Crack the Sky
Oh Comely (Neutral Milk Hotel cover) (video)
Soco Amaretto Lime
Coca Cola
Lacey's voice, accompanied only by the guitar, is simply gorgeous – big, emotional and affecting. It was brilliant to hear Play Crack in its stripped back glory, as it is on second album Deja Entendu. Also, we saw Jesse crack a smile, and it was amusing as the Brand New set following was, admittedly, pretty damn emo considering the low lighting, the songs, and the anguished performance.
There was only a brief break before Brand New took to the stage. The band, plus another three touring members (including a second drummer), came on and just hurled themselves into a blistering instrumental; it felt amazing from the start, absorbing this wall of sound and fury, the bass reverberating through my chest. From there they launched into two faster paced songs off their last album, The Devil and God…, which were well received. But it wasn’t until Okay I Believe You… that the mosh really went nuts, which was fun to watch from our position on the outer rim of the seething mass. There was a good atmosphere during the whole gig, such an improvement on last time where the timid audience dampened the mood.
There was a slower section, building the tension towards an absolutely amazing string of songs, starting with Millstone, which really could’ve been a second single considering how the crowd reacted, followed by glee from the audience as Jesse introduced Gloria with an offhand comment, “This one’s about sex.” Tatou served as a brief lull before an entirely unexpected and oddly sweet cover of Jesus Loves Me sung by Jesse, which served as an intro for the song Jesus.
I loved hearing Degausser live again; it’s one of my favourites from the album, and it’s always seemed to me a song of quiet desperation, but last night they played it as this tortured monster of a song, a perfect performance of a breakdown in process, which carried brilliantly into You Won’t Know, which closes the show with Jesse’s anguished repeating of the refrain over and over. It still gives me chills, feeling the haunting unravelling quality of Jesse’s voice over the dark of the theatre.
The encore was mildly disappointing; after a prolonged delay filled with cheers and calls for the band, they came back on slowly, starting with Vince on his own playing a riff which Jesse then took over, and continued into an extended instrumental jam. It was mesmerising, but when the concert ended abruptly after that, it left me wanting more – more songs, more time with them - because their music is so powerful and intensely affecting.
Welcome to Bangkok
Not the Sun
The Archers Bows Have Broken
Okay I Believe You But My Tommy Gun Don’t
Jaws Theme Swimming
The No Seatbelt Song
Luca
Millstone
Sic Transit Gloria…Glory Fades
Tatou
Sowing Season
(Jesus Loves Me)
Jesus
Degausser
You Won’t Know
untitled 1
Play Crack the Sky
Oh Comely (Neutral Milk Hotel cover) (video)
Soco Amaretto Lime
Coca Cola
Lacey's voice, accompanied only by the guitar, is simply gorgeous – big, emotional and affecting. It was brilliant to hear Play Crack in its stripped back glory, as it is on second album Deja Entendu. Also, we saw Jesse crack a smile, and it was amusing as the Brand New set following was, admittedly, pretty damn emo considering the low lighting, the songs, and the anguished performance.
There was only a brief break before Brand New took to the stage. The band, plus another three touring members (including a second drummer), came on and just hurled themselves into a blistering instrumental; it felt amazing from the start, absorbing this wall of sound and fury, the bass reverberating through my chest. From there they launched into two faster paced songs off their last album, The Devil and God…, which were well received. But it wasn’t until Okay I Believe You… that the mosh really went nuts, which was fun to watch from our position on the outer rim of the seething mass. There was a good atmosphere during the whole gig, such an improvement on last time where the timid audience dampened the mood.
There was a slower section, building the tension towards an absolutely amazing string of songs, starting with Millstone, which really could’ve been a second single considering how the crowd reacted, followed by glee from the audience as Jesse introduced Gloria with an offhand comment, “This one’s about sex.” Tatou served as a brief lull before an entirely unexpected and oddly sweet cover of Jesus Loves Me sung by Jesse, which served as an intro for the song Jesus.
I loved hearing Degausser live again; it’s one of my favourites from the album, and it’s always seemed to me a song of quiet desperation, but last night they played it as this tortured monster of a song, a perfect performance of a breakdown in process, which carried brilliantly into You Won’t Know, which closes the show with Jesse’s anguished repeating of the refrain over and over. It still gives me chills, feeling the haunting unravelling quality of Jesse’s voice over the dark of the theatre.
The encore was mildly disappointing; after a prolonged delay filled with cheers and calls for the band, they came back on slowly, starting with Vince on his own playing a riff which Jesse then took over, and continued into an extended instrumental jam. It was mesmerising, but when the concert ended abruptly after that, it left me wanting more – more songs, more time with them - because their music is so powerful and intensely affecting.
Welcome to Bangkok
Not the Sun
The Archers Bows Have Broken
Okay I Believe You But My Tommy Gun Don’t
Jaws Theme Swimming
The No Seatbelt Song
Luca
Millstone
Sic Transit Gloria…Glory Fades
Tatou
Sowing Season
(Jesus Loves Me)
Jesus
Degausser
You Won’t Know
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