There seems to be something missing at The Corner Hotel.
It’s not the beer, which is there. It’s not the bands, Tex Perkins’ Dark Horses are there. It must be the laughable influx of police with sniffer dogs in tow. Yes, that’s it!
Tonight’s show is entirely free of the hoopla that surrounded The Dark Horses Sydney show, a win for the stoners if there ever was one.
If looks can be deceiving, the same can be said for Mike Noga and his lyrical content. Walking into the stone-silent bandroom, Noga’s melancholic tunes pour sombrely from his acoustic guitar. “A lonely man forgets nobody’s name” he sings bleakly enough to make even Leonard Cohen cry.
When the song is done, rather than perpetuate his miserable image, Noga turns out to be wryly hilarious.
The singer outlines the rest of set as “depressing, slow and depressing, and fast and depressing” and he is not wrong, however his humour stops the show from sliding into self pity. “Turn Your Light On Me Again” sees more amateur comedy as he wails the song’s title several times then asks “50 bucks if you can name what that song was called.”
Everything about his set is beautiful, emotive, and completely simple. “All My Friends Are Alcoholics” is catchy and by the end people are singing along, regardless of whether they know the song or not. Noga is an inspired choice of support act and his music is sublime – provided you listen to it in a room with absolutely no sharp objects.
As the red curtain squeaks painfully open, the comfortably full room presses in closer.
Knockabout guy, sometime sex symbol, and Australian music veteran Tex Perkins strides onto the stage with The Dark Horse; Charlie Owen, James Cruickshank, Joel Silbersher, Stephen Hadley and Gus Agars. “Lovely to see you all, even though I can’t see any of you,” begins Perkins, shielding his eyes from the glaring stage lights. “Let’s see what mischief we can get up to.”
Beginning with a textured instrumental piece the room falls silent for the first of many times during The Dark Horses’ set; that is except for one punter. “Couldn’t you think of any words?” is yelled from somewhere down the front.
Introducing the next song, Perkins dryly adds “I did drag myself to the notepad for this one.” Somewhat strangely, the singer abandons booze in favour of a tiny espresso cup, which he nurses tenderly throughout the set.
Despite their collective rock n roll pedigrees, The Dark Horses manoeuvre elegantly through each song, caressing every note with affection and weaving any loose ends into something completely mesmerising. “So Much Older” and “Everyone’s Alone” are beautifully introspective yet the token Perkins cheek doesn’t leave them rolling in melancholy.
Unsurprisingly, Perkins is perfection. He stomps from needy to bitter in the flick of an eye, crushing crowd favourite “Lucid” in his wake as guitar, bass and keys duties are fluidly swapped between songs.
One thing that is abundantly clear this evening is the total adoration the (sometimes) man in black has for his bandmates; whenever Perkins gets a chance he is gushing over Cruickshank or Owen’s guitar playing or introducing the band members to the audience.
A fan wanders up to the stage with a CD for Perkins to sign as the encore begins, and he signs it happily. “Being a good dude is pretty easy” he muses, something a few modern musicians could taken note from.
Shutting up shop with “Things Don’t Seem So Bad After All”, Mike Noga makes a surprise return to the stage for a fairly awesome wail on the harmonica.
Taking the opportunity afforded to him by Noga’s superior harp skills, Perkins wanders around that stage giving each band member a hug before returning to the mic and appearing to sob deeply. As quickly as it starts, ‘the boy who cried wolf’ look creeps across the singer’s face.
“I was just kidding, I don’t even give a shit” he smirks and the show is over.
The music may be mellowing but the years have done nothing to knock the sides off Tex Perkins. Let’s hope they never do.
