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Bobbysix.com was lucky enough to attend Florence + The Machine's show in Sydney recently. The above photo, by the way, was stolen (with a loving kiss) from our good friend Daniel Boud's website. Check out his work. The man is a genius. Anyway, here's our review:
A music lover witnesses countless gigs in their lifetime. Some bad, some average, some great, but only very occasionally are you able to be part of something truly special and unique. Florence + The Machine's only Australian appearance, as part of the Debit Mastercard Priceless Music series, was one such instance. The Seymour Centre was the perfect venue. With just 12 rows of seats (each holding a Venetian-style masquerade mask to be worn during the show), it was incredibly intimate and had a theatrical feel perfectly suited to the performance.
Florence Welch, resplendent and regal in a sequinned gown, glided to centre-front and opened the proceedings with Only If For A Night. Supported by three backing singers, harp, keys, guitars and two drummers, Welch wasted no time in showcasing her extraordinary vocal ability. The quiet-loud-quiet-louder-quiet-MASSIVE dynamic of her songs combined with gothic lyrics drenched in emotion left the crowd, who – due to the amphitheatre layout – were pretty much on top of her, absolutely awestruck. Tiptoeing the floor barefoot, spinning in circles and gesticulating elegantly, she performed her new album almost in its entirety, along with favourites such as Dog Days Are Over and Cosmic Love, in which the harp was beautifully precise. By the time she ended with Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) and Spectrum, the audience had long-since been on their feet.
After the two-song encore was brought to a fittingly epic end with No Light, No Light, attendees reluctantly made their way to the exit in the knowledge that they had been lucky enough to be part of something genuinely beautiful. Indeed, so magical was the atmosphere in room during this perfect occasion that to step back into the real world felt painfully mundane. This was a wonderful and unforgettable night.
This review first appeared in Sydney's Drum
Media. It was written by Bobby Townsend and edited by Heidi Pett.
Alongside regular feature, Getting To Know... BobbySix.com is launching an occasional series called A Few Of My Favourite Things. It's pretty self-explanatory and, to get the ball rolling, Bobby Six's head honcho, Rob Townsend, has a stab at it himself:
My Favourite Band
In the early 1990s I fell head-over-heels in love with an indie/pop/dance band from South London. Named Carter The Unstoppable Sex Machine, they were a two-piece who played guitars and sang over a drum machine. Sans bassist. Sans drummer. I went to every tour they played, bought every T-shirt, copied singer Jim Bob's flamboyant haircut and even sneaked into the MTV studios in Camden to get their autographs. Combining social and political commentary with pop-punk sensibilities to create big, singalong tunes, there was an honesty and integrity to Carter that wasn’t in the slightest contrived and could not be doubted. Regardless of where they stand in the grand scheme of things - whether they are important or nothing more than a footnote on the 90s scene - there is always one band that makes a difference to a person’s life and Carter was that band for me.
My Favourite Gig
There are so many sweat-drenched moments of magnificence to consider. The Flaming Lips brought an incredible kaleidoscopic party to Brighton, while Kitty Daisy & Lewis got Sydney dancing. What else? Well, Regina Spektor at the Opera House, Morrissey opening his show with How Soon Is Now?, The White Stripes and The Strokes playing onstage together at the Reading Festival, the first time I ever saw Bridezilla and had the realisation I had discovered something amazing, singing Coolio's Gangsta's Paradise onstage with The Late Greats at Latitude... the list could go on and on. I think that experiencing Pulp play at Brixton Academy just after Different Class was released tops the lot. I have never seen a performer have such a command over the audience as Jarvis Cocker on that night. He is my hero. In terms of an overall line-up, seeing The Cribs supported by Jeffrey Lewis and Giant Drag was pretty much my indie dream come true.
My Favourite Song There is a Light That Never Goes Out and Do You Realise?? come a close second and third to this:
My Favourite Album
While I love pretty much anything Tom Waits has ever done and I'll never, ever grow tired of listening to Pet Sounds and The Moldy Peaches, once again Carter USM triumph in this category. I can sing every word of their standout album, 30 Something (which was awarded 10/10 in the NME). They told us about life as it was and constantly conveyed the social deprivation around.Ballad Falling on a Bruise is the absolute jewel in its crown, telling a downbeat tale of dejection (“Some you win and some you lose, I’ve spent my whole lifetime falling on a bruise, and if I had the chance to do it all again, I’d change everything”). Followed on the album by the heartbreaking lullaby The Final Comedown(“I’ve been cut, I’ve been stitched, I’ve been buggered, bewitched and abandoned”) this was Carter’s finest hour.
My Favourite Destination
Sometimes a place and a person just connect. In 2006 took the plunge and ventured to Sydney with no idea whether I was going to be there for a week, a month, or forever. Within a few days, I had found work as a music critic and discovered a network of wonderful, like-minded new friends. Five years on, I'm still ensconced within its warm embrace. When I am attending some awesome party, reviewing a gig at the Opera House, or just bobbing around in the cool sea underneath unblemished blue skies, Sydney feels like the greatest place on God's green earth.
My Favourite Book
I have recently become more that a little obsessed with Cormac McCarthy. There is so much atmosphere to his words. Whether he is recalling the Old West or conjuring harrowing images of an apocalyptic modern America, you can almost reach out and touch the landscape he has created. Also, the sense of impending peril he brings keeps the tension at a consistent and near-unbearably high level. Take, for instance, All The Pretty Horses. Nothing much happens until over halfway through the story but there is never any doubt that it will happen. It's just bubbling under the surface, waiting to grab you by the throat.
Honorable mentions also go to War and Peace, Dracula, The Picture of Dorian Gray, Schindler's Ark, One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest and Fever Pitch.
My Favourite Item of Clothing
With my wonderful girlfriend Emma running Dear Pluto, a whole lotta lovely vintage clothing passes through our place. With such a high turnover of awesome threads at my disposal, I often wear something for a while before growing bored of it. However, I am still just as in love with these shoes as I was when I first chanced upon them. They're beautiful.
My Favourite Film
In my humble opinion, This is Spinal Tap and Bottle Rocket are about as perfect as it gets. I love how the comedy and narrative in these films are driven by a completely natural dialogue and a sense of love and brotherhood amongst the lead characters. Elsewhere, my boat is floated by Life is Beautiful, Shaun of The Dead, The Wizard of Oz, Back To The Future Trainspotting, Toy Story 3, Juno and anything by Almodovar and Hitchcock.
My Favourite TV Show
I am an absolute situational comedy nerd. There is rarely a day when I do not relate a real life occurrence to something that happened to Jerry Seinfeld or to Mark and Jeremy. The lines between reality and fiction tend to blur in my head.
It's hard for me to settle on a favourite show but, if you're looking for pure genius, then you don't need to venture much further than The Office. The thing I especially like about it is how, on first glance, you think it is about David Brent, whereas to dig deeper is to find the sweetest love story based around Tim and Dawn. I have never managed to watch the Christmas special without crying.
My Favourite Memory
As I rummage back through my cluttered brain, there are lots of images that present themselves, like a montage from a slightly-less-cool-than-usual John Hughes movie. Playing cricket in the hazy English morning sunshine on my friend Max's stag weekend was joyous in its simplicity, as were the seemingly endless summer days I spent playing football on the Old Town recreational ground in Eastbourne as a kid (above). Meanwhle, drawing faces on balloons and throwing them from the roof of Hibernian House in Sydney with Emma and watching them dance with the breeze before being swallowed up by the vastness of the city is a happy memory that is as vivid now as the day that it happened.
My Favourite Food
Eggs are the greatest invention of all time. Okay, so they're not actually an invention, but if they were, they would be the greatest invention of all time. Although potatoes would probably give them a run for their money. They are both so versatile. Meanwhile, the most underrated food in the world is spinach. Yum. Contrary to what my skinny frame suggests, I like to eat. A lot. I'm generally into savoury stuff but, to be honest, if I could coat everything I eat in caramel, I probably would.
My Favourite Photo
This forever changes. At the moment, I have two. The first is of me on stage with David Ford as part of his choir at the Corbury Festival a few years ago (above). There was something amazing about looking around the stage and realising that every person there was one of my best friends and had been for many years. The other photo (below) is one of Emma and I that amazing photographer Daniel Boud took when were mucking about playing dress-up at our old place in Sydney. It was a fun afternoon.
You may have noticed a little widget down the bottom of the right hand side of the page. If not, check it out as it links you to some of my dear friends' blogs that I think are really rather good. Amongst the wry wit of Portsmouth's own Rhys Jones and the freelance writings of Guy Wilkinson and Colin (once, twice, three times) Delaney, you'll find blogs from Sydney's two finest photographers, Cybele Malinowski and Daniel Boud (above).
There are some owls and some pipsqueaks, and, amongst others, a newish fashion related offering from Sydney-based model Olivia Dunn Frost (below) and her sister Emerald. (If you would like your blog added to the blogroll, then drop me a line).
As for this blog, I'm looking to add to the music-related gubbins by branching out a little further, so keep your eyes open for interviews with people from the world of film, TV, fashion and many other creative areas.
With its laid back vibe, interesting venue and host of alternative attractions, The Great Escape falls into the same category as England’s Latitude Festival and, while the organisers need to perhaps try and lure a few more big name acts next year, there was plenty to see and do over three days of changeable weather.
Friday started with a performance in the VIP area from my dear friends, Angus and Julia Stone (above). After the show I was delighted to hang out with them, catching up with their tales from their time in my homeland, and accompanying them on a photo shoot with the aforementioned Daniel. As the day grew older, it became apparent that I wasn’t really going to see many bands at all. This was largely due to the fact that I simply had no inclination to. It would appear that I am turning into one of those despicable industry people who get free tickets to festivals and then neglect the array of live music on offer. In my defence, I wasn’t reviewing for any publication, and simply enjoyed the freedom of sitting in the sunshine with some friends.
After Archer, it seemed that half of the festival crowd headed to The Terrace to watch Angus and Julia (above, playing the trumpet). Anyone who has ever seen them knows that they are simply wonderful, and on this occasion they were as lovely as ever. The amazing thing about the gig though was the crowd's reaction, which was simply unbelievable. Angus would sing a line, then step back and just watch the crowd sing the words for them. Neither he nor his sister could hide their astonished delight. It was clearly a seminal moment for them, and left me with a genuine sense of emotion that I haven't felt since Morrissey had me in tears at the Reading Festival a few years back. Seriously, seeing their beaming faces utterly awestruck at the reaction they were receiving was truly affecting.
There was no way to suitably follow this rather emotional occasion, certainly not by watching Wolfmother huff and puff their way through a histrionic set on the Village Green Stage (below), and so I headed home for the night.
The following day was ruined by the weather before I had even arrived on site. I met up with some of my friends at Central Station and we jumped on a train to Olympic Park. After reaching the park, one must then catch a shuttle bus to the venue. While we were waiting for the bus, the heavens opened and we all got absolutely soaked to the skin. My imitation Converse were like sodden cardboard and my entirely impractical felt jacket acted as a sponge.
The sun came out and dried me off nicely while I watched Little Birdy, who were everything I hate about music - ugly songs fronted by a tryhard lead singer. To be honest though, I was merely killing time before The Magic Numbers, who were the only band I wanted to see on this day. As they were about to start, the rain lashed down again, meaning that, having been dry for approximately 4 minutes, I was completely soaked once more. Lacking an umbrella, raincoat or change of clothes, I was set to be stuck in wet threads for the rest of the day. To be honest, The Magic Numbers were so excellent that I didn't mind the inclement weather. Since I last saw them two years ago, they have improved their stage presence immeasurably, and rocked the Riverside Stage to within an inch of its life. It was a joyous hour of lovingly crafted music, and worth getting drenched for.
A couple of hours’ aimless wandering followed the second magical brother-and-sister show of the weekend. I took in a show by the barking mad Lee Scratch Perry (whose set ended with a Cribs style mass stage invasion). The impressive Children Collide showed plenty of energy but not enough to stop me thinking about my wet feet, and so I made my way home again, in the hope that the decent weather would return for the final day's fun.
To my relief, the sun blazed down as I made my way back to the festival for the last day, and upon arriving I immediately went to admire the beautiful folk music that Lou Rhodes was purveying down by the river. After spending a few minutes gawping at the statuesque Sarah Blasko, it was time to take in Bridezilla (above). It was another very impressive performance, played out to a packed Tin Shed, and saw the second mass stage invasion of the festival during singalong set-closer Saint Francine.
After the quintet had spent forty minutes wowing me, I took in the end of The Lemonheads’ show, saw some stuff on the cabaret stage, made a fool of myself at Swingball, and hung out with old and new friends, all while I really should have been watching Gomez.
Finally, TheTemper Trap (above) rocked my socks off with a familiar-looking string section, and a show that was infectiously energetic and exciting. They really are great to watch live. Then, as others went to check out The Roots, and then made an impact on the booze at the afterparty, it was time for me to bid The Great Escape a fond farewell.
So, while the line-up hardly blew the V Festival out of the water, the atmosphere of The Great Escape was rather lovely and laid-back. It had an old-fashioned feel to it that is sadly lacking with the current crop of corporately branded uber-festivals. Sometimes, all you really need is a field, some likeminded people and for the festival organisers to pay attention to the little things (ping pong tables, beanbags, pretty lighting, free bbq). Now, if they can just encourage just a few more big name foreigners to come along next year, we’ll have a mind-blowingly fun festival to look forward to.
