Ok, I just have to say, these guys are serious crooners. Like, seriously.
I also gotta say, they know how to pull a crowd. Thebby was chockers. The show was sold out, with apparently ALL of Adelaide’s hipster crowd moseying on down, with their oversized spring knits, skinny jeans and double denim. Needless to say, beard game was strong.
As a music venue Thebarton Theatre does alright, you could either choose a nice comfy seat up top, stare dreamily down into the starlit smoky backdrop, hold hands with the bae, or you could rough it in GE, cider in hand, or both hands, if that’s your thing and you have the dexterity. The more laissez-faire in the crowd even chilled on the floor, as the vibe was definitely along the lines of a cruisy festival dustbowl. But, if you’re the thirsty type, the lines were long, the drinks ain’t cheap, and you gotta remember to pack a wad of cash if you don’t want to end up in the never ending ATM line, as the bar technology still hasn’t updated to paywave.
But whatevs: the music! As a warm up gig Vancouver Sleep Clinic made you forget about everything else; basically, these guys make cool sounds. Ponderously hypnotic, blissfully melancholic, VSC’s bluesy tracks were the perfect opening jams for the evening, and made me kinda want to dive under the bed covers and pull them right up, reminisce over halcyon uni days, sinking a few pints, listening to various experimental, angsty artists at the Ex(eter). Their soulful, tranquil rhythms mixed with the odd raw, sawtooth track made for a pretty mind blowing set. If you haven’t checked these guys out before, do it. They’ll be huge, and deservedly so.
After a quick interval bevy sunk, it was A&J casually sauntering onstage. I say casually, but behind the scenes it was obviously a pretty tight ship; throughout the night instrumental handovers, from acoustic guitar to trumpet, trumpet to banjo (yes banjo!), banjo to tambourine, everything was seamless and professional, never detracting from the music, nor A&J’s light banter with the crowd.
So OK guys, look- These.Kids.Are.Cool. Like, ridiculously cool. The kind of effortlessly cool that all wannabe hipster, all the cool kids, aspire to, but never really cut it. Julia, in throat-high black lace, soft balayage and gravelly, raw timbres, was utterly beguiling from the start, but her undulating grooves and whimsical shimmies were interspersed with some pretty vicious guitar strummings, showcasing an impressively prodigious talent. At the point where she held her guitar (one of many) in her hand, then began one handedly wailing down a trumpet held in the other, she was the ultimate Indie ingénue. Then, wait for it, she even mashed out a Grease remix. Bit of a girl crush happening? I think so. Where’s my tambourine at?!
Then there was Angus Stone, playing his rollicking, rolling folksy acoustics, and offering to take all of us up on a big jet plane.*Sigh*. At that point there wasn’t a gal in the place, single or otherwise, that wouldn’t have been on that plane. Bros too. Let’s face it.
So how was the ride?
The power of these two talents together is pretty overwhelming. Simply put, they transport you: back to first kisses, languorous summer nights, beach hangs with friends, lovers’ trysts and fights, it’s all there written in the magically poignant and sometimes sublimely mundane lyrics. Prolific feet stomping and clapping demanded an encore, and the pair delivered with a delicious, goose pimply remake of There National’s ‘Bloodbuzz Ohio’. Then it was over. Sad face.
I couldn’t wipe the cheeseball grin off my face all night. There were even moments when I teared up a lil. But that’s cool, we were all feeling it. It was the opening gig of the tour, but if the rest is sold out, and understandably so, get your hands and ears around their new album, which is also just out. Angus and Julia Stone. Don’t think about it. Just do it.
So finally, how to rate the show? 5 stars? 2 thumbs up? Or, maybe just the words of A&J Stone: ‘high five, I just want a high five’?
Reviewed by Jordana Lennox
Fri 12 September 2014
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