tivoli

by

Life, love and Ed Kowalczyk (live)

I almost didn’t go to see Ed Kowalczyk tonight. I figured I’d be tired. Maybe a little love-lorn. Probably, you know, … old. Turned out I was right, but thanks to the generosity of a friend, I did stumble down through the Ekka detritus crowding the Bowen Hills streets to the grand old Tivoli, and was stunned to be sitting, sardine-like but not uncomfortably, a mere four rows from the stage. Close enough to see the sweat on Ed’s bald head, the smears of moisture on the guitar, and a very large smile on his dial as the sell-out crowd went ballistic after every tune.

It was just Ed and a guitar, a few apologies for not having the full band, sheer delight at being heard and appreciated. He played one new song (from a solo album due out next year) — it was pretty good, in a Live kind of way — and one cover, and the rest of the 1hr15 set was made up of Live tracks. I’d forgotten, kind of, just how good those guys were when they were peaking, with Throwing Copper and my favourite album of theirs, The Distance to Here. Tonight’s set roamed the Live catalague, rocking out with I Alone, offering a delicious rendering of the remarkably apt The Dolphin’s Cry, getting a singalong with closing song I Want To Dance With You. And raising a tear with Lightning Crashes, which always reminds me of someone dear who should be here, but isn’t.

As such, the gig turned out to be a fitting closing act for a poignant weekend.

It began on Friday night with a dear, old friend at a favourite restaurant. So pleasing to see her happy in love, and beloved. And then there was that aeroplane, delivering me my own slice of the happiness pie. Saturday and a parade of friends and family and that bittersweet emotion of being happy for a friend while feeling the cutting edge of looming absence, in geography at least. Time and lost opportunities and golden moments, all rolled into one, and never quite enough time and space to say the words to the right people before they’re gone, through the door if not from our lives. Amazing, isn’t it, how friendships endure across time and space? And how watersheds and turning points can remind us of just how strong those bonds can be. And then today, welcome and goodbye and a milestone marked, a new year and a new life, but no beginning without endings, too, the shedding of old skin making way for the new.

Vague enough for you?

Birthdays are like that. Past and future colliding, cushioned by the joy of good company, the love of family and that significant other.

So thanks, Ed, for the summary: the pains and pleasures of the past, the promise of the future, the simple joy of the here and now.

Oh now feel it comin’ back again

Like a rollin’ thunder chasing the wind

Forces pullin’ from the center of the earth again

I can feel it.

by

Gary Numan blasts Brisbane

Unfortunately, Gary Numan’s triumphant return to Australia, playing Brisbane’s Tivoli on March 2, coincided with my losing net access, hence the late post.

Suffice to say, Numan was superb. Brilliant light show; deep, timber-rattling bass that didn’t make the ears ring; hot young dudes on guitar, bass, keys and synths; and Gary, ah Gary, turning 51 next week, so clearly enjoying his renaissance since making such a profound impact with his Tubeway Army back in the late 70s (when he last toured Oz).

The two-hour gig concentrated on his most recent album, Jagged, recently released as a two-CD remix called Jagged Edge. But the crowd — and it was a pleasingly but not uncomfortably large crowd — also thrilled to the early hits including Cars and Are Friends Electric?. A blue-washed rendition of Down in the Park went over a treat.

The gig really did showcase how far electronic music has come, and Numan’s role in it.

The set unfolded almost continuously, and there wasn’t much chitchat from the man. Which was a pity. But Numan was a charismatic presence, stalking, sometimes a little meandering, and flashing a grin during those older tracks as the crowd responded.

It was a sign of a great gig that I had his Haunted running through my head the next day.

Flashback: my interview with Numan is here.

by

Amanda Palmer rocks Brisbane

Not many rock stars would risk ending their encore with a cover of Radiohead’s Creep, on ukelele, without a microphone. But then, Amanda Palmer of Dresden Dolls fame isn’t your average rock star.

Palmer, with support from uber-capable violinist and cellist, and Brisbane’s own Danger Ensemble, wowed and wooed a comfortably full Tivoli tonight on her Who Killed Amanda Palmer? tour, supporting her debut solo album of the same name.

The theatre’s old-world charm was the perfect complement for the bohemian charm of the Boston performer and her support cast, supplemented by an excellent light show.

Palmer is a honey, sassy and friendly and witty, and just a little dangerous. You know you’re in for a treat when she rises from her piano stool to give the keys her all, and showing a generous flash of well-formed cleavage in the process. Palmer is not shy. You just have to read her blog from her recent Sydney show to see that. Better yet, listen to her music.

Ampersand is one of my favourites, though it was Oasis — blacklisted in Britain for its ironic take on date rape and abortion — that got a huge ovation. And there was a good-hearted singalong for Dresden Doll hits Coin-Operated Boy and Girl Anachronism.

Palmer possesses a distinctive voice, low and gravelled; she puts her emotion into every song, whether upbeat and rockin’ or so slow and maudlin; and she knows how to play a crowd. She clearly loves performing — the interplay between her and her band was a joy — and appreciates that her music is making a mark. When was the last time a singer stopped the show to take questions from the audience? Or promised to move the signing session onto the street if need be, to make sure everyone got their chance?

I was impressed, too, by the Danger Ensemble; I was afeared the use of an acting troupe would detract from the music, but used sparingly and for effect, it was not only a way to enhance the show and the songs, but to break down the barrier between performer and singer. Clever.

The good news is, Palmer is hopeful of spending a solid couple of months in Australia, maybe in our summer. She’s certainly one peformer we’d like to see more of. 😉

by

Gary Numan

gary numan album jagged

gary numan album jagged


Electronic music pioneer Gary Numan is coming to Australia for only the second time in his 30-year career. Yep, we’re excited 🙂 Readers of a certain vintage or particularly astute young’uns might know him from hits Cars and Are Friends Electric?. Numan’s enjoyed a resurgence of interest in his catalogue in recent years, thanks in part to some dark, heavy albums.

I had the good fortune to talk with Numan about his return to popularity, but here’s a choice quote about the appeal of electronic music that didn’t make the cut:

“I’m a massive fan of guitars and drums and use them on my albums, but with technology it’s about the very sound itself. I can spend days and days just making the sound. It’s another level of music most people don’t go into. Sound creation is the most rewarding and most exciting thing I do. It’s a great sense of pride for me … to make an album with 40-50 sounds that no one’s ever heard before is very exciting. I could listen to sound effects tapes all day. I think if I wasn’t making music I could work as a sound effects engineeer.”

Numan plays Brisbane’s gorgeous Tivoli on March 2.