I am head-over-heels, giddy as a schoolboy, secret crush, love letter-writing, flowery espousing, ‘no you hang up first’ in love with Natasha Khan.
And no, this isn’t a new condition as a result of Bat For Lashes’ debut Melbourne headline show at the Palais Theatre.
This is a long-running, deeply seated yet unrequited affair that began back when I first locked eyes and ears on Khan’s kooky tribal, electro-folk in ‘Horse and I’. And yes, it’s galloping harpsichord and rattling march sounded just as good six years on in the cavernous surrounds of St. Kilda’s opulent theatre.
If you’ll permit me to go all jealous boyfriend… I’ve expressed my devotion for Bat For Lashes’ conjured brand of effortless mystique and sonically rich melodrama (to anyone who’ll indulge me) long before it felt like the whole damn blogosphere was singing her praises.
Creepy? A little. Obsessive? Definitely. Dishonourable? Never.
But her 17-song setlist at the Palais provided just as many reasons, if not more, to be even more smitten with the wonderful Ms Khan.
If you’ve made it this far and you’re looking for an unbiased account or balanced review, you’re in the wrong place.
This is about a six year arc of unrequited tension that found its glorious release on a Tuesday night, where a vividly captivating performance began humbly.
On a stage gilded by twinkling Victorian-era lanterns and an array of uniformly arranged instruments awaited the entrance of their masters; a four-strong ensemble that faithfully delivers Bat For Lashes’ measured arrangements of the organic and the artificial. Spiriting them with heft and momentum the recorded work sometimes shores.
Throughout, a hazy light show enhances the music’s intoxicating effects, starting with pearlescent beams reaching out to the crowd during the opening ‘Lilies’.
“Thank God I’m alive!” cries the elegant lady herself, as Khan’s pure, glassy timbre reaches the song’s apex, as the venue collectively inhales for breath and skips a beat, before being swept up into the first of the night’s many enchanting choruses.
With that, the audience is plunged deep into Khan’s musical world.
A rich fantasy crafted across three ever-maturing albums, in which Khan has raided a musical dress-up box of styles to indulge in a fruitful array of guises that range from hippy chic, to spectral witchery, lovelorn ruminator, and tribal pagan goddess.
Tonight, her latest incarnation approximates something between a Broadway flapper and a geisha. Her roaring ‘20s style bob-cut and bandana atop a kimono made of folded red foil that drapes its long sleeves over her every sweeping gesture.
Following the gothic doo-wop of ‘What’s A Girl To Do?’, Khan removes her scarlet cowl so she is free to dance. And move she does, splendidly in fact.
Lurching her shoulders and writhing like a feline to the synthetic beats, or curving to the contours of the rhythmic undertow. Her sensuality is mesmerising.
“I’m not the only one dancing am I?” she queries following a rousing rendition of the prophesying ‘Glass’. But not even the swaggering synths of ‘Oh Yeah’ can unstick bums from their seats, until Khan politely encourages them to for ‘All Your Gold’.
Sure enough, its very danceable groove sees two front row members bravely leap to attention and begin dancing; receiving a blessing gesture from the deity. Then small pockets of groovers, next – as the song erupts into its venue-filling chorus – crowds are on their feet.
Like much of her catalogue, the song possesses an inherent melancholy and potent longing that in the live setting is alchemised into purging, meaningful anthems of resolve.
It’s a quality that persists in the set’s moments of restraint. A single spotlight catches Khan alone for ‘Travelling Woman’, while bowed guitar sings behind her. “Thanks for being deathly quiet,” she beams with genuine gratitude at its close.
Khan’s magnetic presence is at the centre of the show, just as her musical narratives place her as the heroine seeking adventure (on the surging charisma of ‘Horses of the Sun’), or seeking solace from it (‘Siren Song’).
At other times Khan displaces herself into surrogate protagonists, two of which are tonight’s highlights. The lush auto-harp and syncopated clapping that punctuates ‘Prescilla’, and the breathtakingly vulnerable ‘Laura’ which perfectly showcases her gorgeous, romantic vocals.
Following the deafening applause (for which Khan seems genuinely chuffed) is ‘Siren Song’, offering both halves of Bat For Lashes’ dominant modes simultaneously.
Fragile piano-led patterns prompt lyrical reflection in the verses, “until the Siren comes calling” warns Khan, provoking crashing chords and titanic drum fills, which eventually ascend into an uncomfortable swell of noise, strobing red and blue lights, and epileptic-inducing flickers. (Its awe inspires one worshipper to shout “that was fucking amazing!”)
Pearl, the chanteuse alter-ego that Khan conjured for 2009’s Two Suns, makes a return – with the purring of the New York clubs that birthed her in tow – for the deep thrum and grinding synth bass of ‘Sleep Alone’.
The electro tribal rave continues with the vampish ‘Pearl’s Dream’, which closes the main set in an orgy of cataclysmic pulses. Along with the soaring ‘A Wall’ it highlights the main flaw of holding a performance in such a grand, seated environment: it seems counter-intuitive to turn the space into a dancefloor.
The Haunted Man’s title track is another ambitious highlight. Opening the encore with a trembling intro from which a subtle march emerges in the undertow before Khan brings an old wireless radio to the mic that emanates the song’s central male chant.
A radiant burst signals the song’s climax, as Khan belts “Yes, your ghosts have got me too”, raising the antique speaker above her head like a trophy won. Surely if anyone had any handy, they’d give her one.
But it’s during the closing performance of the much loved ‘Daniel’ that the enraptured audience melts under Khan’s auspices.
Her methods and moods may evoke sonic mythmaking, but with her mile-wide grin and radiant compassion for her onlookers, she’s recognisably, endearingly human.
Then the striking realisation hits; among more than a thousand lifting up their voice in unison. An epiphany that had not hit me in all my years of private audience with Bat For Lashes; wearing grooves into her recordings, even actively searching for flaws in her rich musical tapestry only to find deeper layers.
But it wasn’t until I was one of many in an auditorium pouring their attention and hearts towards her that I comprehend; I’m not the only hopelessly in love with Natasha Khan.
It’s not stricken jealousy that fills my veins, but a warm, embracing comfort – the kind that the concert experience at its purest should be about: Unity.
Which leaves just one niggling question in your mind no doubt. If I’m so infatuated with Ms. Khan and her evocative music – you may ask – why hadn’t I considered upping sticks and selling all my earthly belongings to go traipsing around the world trailing Bat For Lashes like one of those terrifying fanatics you see in a feel-trite news montage?
Well, now that I’ve finally experienced her evocative, swoon-inducing live show, I think that’s now what I may well do.
…Keep an eye out for my crowdfunding campaign, ‘Batty For Lashes’
