If you’re a newcomer to the Mutemath live experience, there’s no shame in wanting to clarify a thing or two.
For instance: why’s there a mattress from last week’s hard-rubbish day floating across the mosh pit? And that drummer, he’s human, yeah? How’s he doing that?
Ask any Mutemath veteran and they’ll grin and shoot off a cheeky wink. Having witnessed the band’s show two or three times over, they’ve become accustomed – and addicted – to the chaos.
Big Scary provide a welcome mellowness before the storm. The Melburnians are much lauded in their hometown and the influx of early attendees – as well as the reception following ‘Falling Away’ – testifies to this.
The lights dim and the sound of drumming hints at Mutemath being near. The attention shifts to the back bar where the quartet is imitating a Thanksgiving parade.
Sticks man Darren King is thumping a marching drum while frontman Paul Meany is wielding what appears to be a synth calculator. Security looks frazzled and want out.
Once on stage the band proceeds to unleash three of their finest from 2011 LP Odd Soul; the title track, ‘Prytania’ and ‘Blood Pressure’. In doing so it becomes clear why King’s drums have been placed front-right of the stage as opposed to far-back.
His presence – both in physical stature and aura – dwarfs his kit. While Meany balances on the hands of the willing folks in the front row, King is bashing away with the intensity of a coked-out banshee.
Still, his presence never diminishes the impact of Meany. Despite his vocals often getting pushed behind the band’s wall of sound, Meany’s performance is tremendous. He especially comes to the fore during the group’s trademark encore (more on that later).
Following ‘Tell Your Heart Heads Up’, the band shifts down a gear to explore a textural side that gives their less-subtle melodies the opportunity to breathe.
Behind Mutemath’s ‘70s arena rock stylings is a thinking man’s outfit that separates them from the onslaught of generic, electro-tinged clutter. Yes, they’re showmen; their act is well-rehearsed and slick. But their breadth of talent stretches far beyond the bang and crash accessibility of their singles or the antics of Meany and King. The performances of ‘Sun Ray’ and ‘Obsolete’ give this theory credence.
As promised prior to the tour, the band delivers fresh material and relish the opportunity to do so. The new cuts tiptoe between the band’s spacious, jazz-spiked qualities and their inescapable grandstand rock, hinting at a more intricate overlapping of the two styles for their impending LP.
Only one new track – a work in progress from their time in Perth – falls flat.
The foursome surges again with dynamic deliveries of ‘Allies’ and ‘Chaos’. Sweat drips from Meany’s brow and into the crevices of his keyboard. King and guitarist Todd Gummerman are looking equally exhausted while bassist Roy Mitchell-Cárdenas remains a caricature of coolness.
They disappear backstage with the last chords of ‘Typical’ ringing across the near-full Billboard, a venue more commonly associated with youthful debauchery.
The request for the outfit’s return to stage remains something to behold. Most fans endeavouring for an encore usually indulge in a half-hearted slow clap or gentle foot stomp. Tonight’s crowd opts for a different tact; a soccer chant (or ‘football’ chant depending on your persuasion and ability to nail a scissor-kick).
Rather than delivering an unwanted B-side or watered-down acoustic rendition of an old favourite, the band produces half-an-hour of the most exhilarating shit this side of Halley’s comet.
“Our show is kinda like one long drum solo, anyway,” teases Meany as King explodes into an extended workout that blends into ‘Reset’.
Cue an oversized mattress passing over the raised hands of the crowd and into the middle of the mosh. Meany takes a few steps back and leaps on. He surfs it to the middle of the room and then back to the stage, keeping perfect pitch while doing so.
The band later takes the formation of three percussionists and one synth player when King unscrews his tom-toms and uses two people in the front row as make-shift drum stands. The gig briefly resembles an East London rave before all four members embrace their adoring punters and conclude the penultimate leg of their Australia tour.
There’s a sense of irony in all this. Earlier in the day there was a very rare tornado that blew a destructive path through rural Victoria. Thankfully all survived. What the news didn’t report is there was another – originating from New Orleans – that did likewise in inner Melbourne.
