Big Scary don’t rely on showmanship to please a crowd.
It’s not that they don’t look like they belong on the stage – they do, with both guitarist/vocalist Tom Iansek and drummer/vocalist Jo Symes radiating the kind of calm confidence that instantly makes you feel like you’re in safe hands.
It’s also not that they aren’t entertaining to watch. Symes was a vision behind the kit, with a grin plastered on her face and her platinum blonde hair flying.
Iansek, too, fit his suit jacket like a glove – although it was unsurprising, in the musty warmth of the Hi-Fi, that sweat was pouring down his cheeks.
It’s just that the force of their songwriting is so powerful that you almost forget that Symes and Iansek are there.
Dreamy piano ornamentation, sweeping strings, crisp guitar lines and generous heapings of reverb create an unearthly atmosphere that seems removed from the two mere mortals on the stage.
Rather than leaping around or chattering constantly to the audience, Big Scary let their music speak for itself. In doing so, they’ve carved a position for themselves as one of the strongest live acts in the country.
The subtle sophistication of their songs are a long way from support act Courtney Barnett’s likeable tomboy appeal, but the two artists were a perfect fit.
Barnett’s captivating, honest stage presence makes it impossible not to love her, especially since she does things like name her band “Courtney Barnett and the Courtney Barnetts,” and write psychedelic covers of Kanye West songs.
The Melbourne local’s relatable storytelling fed into a relaxed, grunge-y base, as she mused on her lack of money and boredom with the 9-5 grind in a throaty drawl.
This fairly mundane subject matter was elevated by the satisfying roll of the guitars, the rhythm, and her frank delivery.
At times dipping into a country twang, at times sounding straight out of the ‘70s, and at times pure Australiana, the combination of her influences makes Barnett refreshingly original.
Big Scary began their set with the delicate strumming of ‘Hello, My Name Is,’ from their recent masterpiece Not Art.
It was this album that they focused on, only dipping into their previous work at the very end of their performance. Not Art has enough versatility, though, that this was a smart choice.
Listening to the ambitious work live is like sinking into honey.
The pair use space in their music to great effect, making each impressionistic piano swirl and staccato drum fill count. The end result is a vast echo chamber of sound, grounded by a constant thread of romanticism that touches an unexplainable emotional chord.
Symes disarmingly sweet vocals are an ideal offset to Iansek’s angelic voice. Despite having a warmer, richer tone, Iansek’s notes edged into Jeff Buckley’s ethereal territory, with the same haunted edge as the tragically short-lived singer.
Behind them bassist/saxophonist Chris added further texture to their show, while a man Symes introduced as Gus worked the electronic samples. These he used to feed the guitar into a series of eerie, alien loops, or utilised hallucinogenic effects to play around with Symes’ vocals.
Mimicking the otherworldly feel of their music, smoke poured out from behind Big Scary throughout the night, until they finally exited the stage – silhouetted against the bright lights – with a casual wave.
Despite the sometimes overwhelming availability of live music in Melbourne, they left behind the feeling that the audience had just experienced something rare; a show which was not only entertaining, but transportive.
