The Toff in Town
To gently
parting drapes, sporadic cheers and a smattering of applause Oliver Tank arrives on stage, a single
tone lingering in the air. Soon, his heavily processed guitar and echoed vocals
stretch over it mellifluously. Loops and samples don't repeat and build the way
other delay-pedal-loving artists favour, rather they come and go with a
slow-motion compositional intelligence. His Ben Gibbard/James Blake style of serious
sweetness manifests as mantra-like lyrics whose meaning shifts as the music
behind them swells, disappears and returns, fighting against glitchy beats and
sparse deep bass - the structural repercussions of which often drown out the
tones themselves. Lyrics like music is
like air to me and I just want to help you breathe could act as a manifesto
for tonight’s double-bill; the role of music in the life of Youth Lagoon has
been well-documented and it seems Tank has a similar need for survivalist emotional
expression. The songs themselves are an intoxicating and emotionally unfiltered
blend of heavily processed signals and stark, pure intentions. Though most of
his sounds are reused in different songs and his repeated bashful proclamations
of love are amplified by looks of shy embarrassment at his own candidness that
accompany the end of each song, it’s a safe bet that many of tonight’s skinny,
immobile and reverent crowd are new converts.
The talking,
texting and drinking amongst the crowd – now at a stifling capacity - is
transformed into a near-deafening cheer as the curtain parts again, this time
to the sight of two shy yet focused
guys staring at a guitar and electric piano respectively. With Bobby, taken from his album The Year of Hibernation (as are all of
tonight’s songs), Youth Lagoon aka
Trevor Powers, sets about casting a spell from which we are only sporadically
released. His strange, strained voice pierces the air above our heads, pushing
us into silence, and allow the tones of his piano, sparse percussion and the
crisp sound of Logan Hyde’s white Jaguar to fill his songs. Cannons follows, as does a brief awkward
interlude of conversation about the beauty of Melbourne, the unfortunately
heavy shirt he bought from Lost and Found and how this is his first ever show
overseas; all things guaranteed to make us even fonder of him. Versions of Montana and Posters show just how well considered the live interpretations of
these songs have been. Hyde’s brittle and unaffected sound offsets the heavy
processed warmth of Powers’ voice and the presence of his synthesized sounds,
all of which replace the organic techniques and atmospheric production of his
album. There is something unsettling about the sweet lullabye-esque tones of
the electric piano and synthesized glockenspiel played boldly and loudly.
Cheers emerge
from the crowd at the opening bars of 17,
which has people dancing as much as a sold-out Toff will allow, even when there
is no beat. The set-closing July sees
the most energetic playing of the night, and it’s a version that leaves us
ecstatic. Still, it takes a lot of cheering to bring him out for an encore of Daydream and its cathartic singalong vocalizations
send home a very satisfied crowd.
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