Normally the onset of an early winter and its sullen, blustery mood wrecker is just an unwelcome change. Here, it gave at least one reason to find cover in the sparse and smelly Festival Hall. If another reason was needed (and it was) then the rudely early kick off from openers Bombay Bicycle Club was the clincher. Mind you, the vent from the male jacks pumping that lovely odour into my face as I stood in line was just great. Could have stood there for hours.
Running through their set with the muted tones of the house PA, likely London lads the Bombay Bicycle Club hit the ground running on the back of their own show at The Forum the night before. With the chugging guitars and whimpering vocals of Jack Steadman, there has been a great swell of appreciation in these parts for the band and three albums in there seems no end to the spurt, even if you can’t help but think they’ve shifted towards the populist demand for all things “indie”.
I personally don’t quite get what it means to be “indie” other than tuck your in your op-shop shirt and have crap hair, so for all the brilliance of the stripped back John Martyn-esque Flaws, the now gentrified sound pleased the crowd a bit, but only a bit. A shame really – clever lyrics and sweet melodies of both earlier outputs get a little lost – but well worthy of a viewing.
To the main event. It’s been only a short while since the last time Melbourne was granted an audience with Guy Garvey’s Finest Hour International Road Show, but you really can’t have too much of a good Manc. So, with a brew held aloft, Mr. Garvey lead his troops out from the cover of darkness to due appreciation from the now packed Festival Hall. Leering and unlikely, a nod and a wink shared with guitarist Mark Potter to his right launched the water tight opening of “The Birds” from last year’s Build A Rocket Boys. Stronger than on the album, the steel slide coupled with Pete Turner’s grumbling bass lines gave way to Craig Potter’s keys and mastering while Garvey wondered ‘What are we gonna do with you?’
Musical interlude #1 complete, it was back to our master of ceremonies. “Is everybody okay? Come on, lemme see those beautiful, sun kissed, athletic hands…” coaxed the nice man on the stage before digressing into a couple of numbers from the band’s brilliant Mercury Music Prize winning fourth album Seldom Seen Kid. While Mark Potter’s guitar chords shared equal billing with the stage-wide harmonies in “Bones of You” it would be Garvey’s demand that we Melburnites prove a few stereotypes of the Strayan male wrong. “Come on now lads, repeat after me… looooovvee,” was the queue but in all fairness, as a collective, we failed. The offer was passed over to the other team with the judgement that “Ahh now, the girls can do it. They can go deeper too…” At that, I could have done with a damp tea cosy to pull over my face.
With brothers Potter stationed stage to one side, drummer Richard Jupp found himself sheltered off behind a perspex screen to the left behind Pete Turner. This left the touring string pair sat patiently centred while Garvey took a break from taking the piss out of the Antipodeans to lead the band through the glorious “Mirrorball”. The shimmering lights bouncing off the… yep, mirrorball hanging in front of the over sized album cover backdrop made for a really beautiful moment, even if the blue figure on the Build A Rocket Boys sleeve looks like a squashed cat.
Racing through the swaggering bass driven “Neat Little Rows” brought about a gruff, menacing edge before the truly massive “Grounds for Divorce” had Garvey joining in Mark Potter’s savaging riff by bashing a lone drum. The full fledged assault that it is carries such weight that there’s no higher gears left, so falling back to a lighter tone was just what the set list ordered as Mark Potter and Pete Turner turned to stand and crouch respectively over little synthesisers.
Again, tracks were plucked from the band’s most recent LP in “The Night Will Always Win” before all departed bar Garvey and Craig who delivered a tender rendition of “The River”. This quiet time was all very nice if you discount the conundrum of doom being played out around the mixing desk (and me) when the fucking whooshing air-conditioning finally clicked off half-way through only to make way for the backed up stale air to rush out of the toilets. But amid the wonders of the Festival Hall was Mr. Garvey putting a stop to the musical interlude to cheerily ponder the existence of mimes, which was ironic, given the inability of the people beside me to shut up.
For the first time, deep into the night, the band reached to their underrated 2006 album Leaders of the Free World for a song as “Puncture Repair” played precursory to a winding, sweet rendition of the closing standout to last year’s album “Dear Friends.” The gentle strings allowed for lyric to take hold, soppy and longing. Heads tilted around the room, just as they should before the album’s paradox raised its own.
“Lippy Kids” doesn’t transpose on record. Somehow, its charming, fatherly lyric comes across overly wanting. However, on stage it takes on a monumental presence of its own. With Craig Potter’s keys taking hold, the gentle strings backed up the poet’s delivery. Garvey’s whistling interjections, themselves falling into the theme from Gorky Park to disapproving head shakes from Mark Potter, very nearly collapsed it all into a giggling end before silence fell. “FOOKING CHOOOOON!” approved some poor fella at the back, lost in the moment as we all clapped and hooted accordingly.
Songs aside again and with the band huddled around Craig Potter, Garvey took the time to play cupid. “And please welcome one of the venue’s lovely bar staff… and she’s single, lads. This is Dianne… she enjoys horse riding…” as the poor girl delivered a round of shots before an instantly reprised “Weather to Fly”. Further musings from Garvey about Melbourne being so very like Manchester linked just nicely into “Open Arms,” again from Build A Rocket Boys. Similarly to “Lippy Kids”, its stage presence brings the song alive, seemingly written with the triumphant set end in mind… and that was that. The band decamped to hide with little fuss while our host ambled off grinning with a fist held high like he’d won a raffle down the pub.
After some traditional foot stomping from us, they reappeared (surprise!) with trumpets in hand for “Starlings” even allowing Richard out of his box for a bit. For reasons unexplained, an Australian flag flapped about from Mark’s trumpet before amid all the cheers they sent Richard back to his solitary confinement to see out the night, but not before some friendly slagging from Garvey about his rather dark pre-gig ritual of watching singers fall off stages on YouTube.
Closing were both the “Station Approach” and the enormous smiler that is “One Day Like This”. Lights flooded the stage and surrounds while Garvey sought out hands in the far flung corners of the pit. There couldn’t have been any other way to finish. But… two songs from Leaders Of The Free World, none from Asleep In The Black or Cast Of Thousands doesn’t fill the night out as it should. If there can be a criticism, that’s it. There was so much more that should have been played rather than bringing Build A Rocket Boys in as it’s own stage show, littered with a few recent others. But maybe that’s where Elbow are at. They’re in their second act. With shows like that as a promise, you can’t help but wish for more.
– Ciaran Wilcox
