Live: Tame Impala
I had no idea this show was being spruiked so hard by Triple J (which I’m a little embarrassed about). That explains the relatively young and oh-so-pretty crowd at Melbourne's The Toff In Town, which was ever-exuberant and just plain lovely, actually.
Openers Oh Mercy, while being - I suppose - the lighter, more pondersome outfit of the night, still provided some beautifully powerful moments: some sweet male-female vocal harmonies - which I just melt for - and were ever-so-thankful to be back in town, after a short tour which may or may not have knocked the stuffing out of them. To be honest, they seemed a little tired. No matter, though.
Tame Impala were introduced amid a flurry of thrown-from-the-stage t-shirts. Not that the crowd needed any extra amping up, because the kids were here to get their trip-rock boogie on from the get-go. I can’t speak highly enough of these kids. I am grossly guesstimating their average age there, but they seem quite young for the amount of telekinetic nuance bouncing between them, and the sensibility they all seem to bring to even their hairiest freak-out sessions.
From their super-sublime cover of Massive Attack’s ‘Angel’ (and, I mean absolutely, spot-on, give-me-the-chills sublime) to their own, cracking trip-out material, this was a world-class show, made all the better because it had the feel of a spontaneous backyard jam. Which is hard to pull off when you’re being broadcast around the country.
Here’s the clincher for the night: the front-of-house sound totally disappeared during the closing song - the meatier-every-time-they-play-it ‘Half Full Glass Of Wine’ - so all anybody could hear was the sound coming from the stage’s foldback speakers, directed at the band.
It felt like a sheet of glass had just been inserted between the stage and the crowd, and it still sounded so blissfully spanking. Tame Impala were so freaking into it themselves, that absolutely nobody cared.