Ahh Valentine’s Day: unrequited missives of love and / or stalking, desperate last minute reservations at the local Indian restaurant because all of the nouveau cuisine establishments are fully booked, buckets of flowers quickly emptying as suits file through the Coles Express Lane after 5pm and a spectacle of couples in spectacles scuff their connies along to The Zoo for Explosion in the Sky ’s Australian premiere.

The first stop on Explosion in the Sky’s (EITS) maiden voyage around this recently quite sodden land was a packed affair. The number of punters present for the early slot certainly reinforced this fact, had the big SOLD OUT sign at the top of The Zoo’s red staircase failed to convey the increasing popularity of post-rock sonic ambience.

Acknowledging that they don’t quite fit with the other two bands on the bill (possibly because their music has words), The Paper & The Plane have landed many a coveted support slot of late and so drew a crowd of their very own regardless. An assortment of pretty young things gathered at the front as an often rigid lead singer jolted and spasmed his way around the stage, mic close to his chest, vocals soaring and diving, the whole sound of dinking bass and pleading voice reminiscent of the very early works of The Cure meets 30 Seconds from Mars. While the set had a couple of glimmering moments, there are a number of successful Australian acts plying these types of sounds over airwaves and in our live venues at the moment (think Expatriate, Birds of Tokyo et al), and doing it with far more polish, individuality and stage presence than exhibited here. In short, tight and well executed, however none of the songs were stand outs, so movement from support to headlining might be a stretch just yet.

Even though most had returned from their between set smoke, the crowd initially kept chatting away as EITS’s Temporary Residence stablemate Eluvium commenced filling the room with whimsical melody and drawling reverb. Hailing from Portland, Oregon, the man behind the intricately woven elegance of ambient aural delights, Matthew Cooper, employed major use of a Roland or similar pedal / device to build loops that meshed in multiple layers. Moving from guitar to piano and back again, Cooper created soundscapes of reverberating melodies that had the front half of the room in stasis while the back of the room mumbled along taking a little while to catch on and stand silent as well. This confusion may have been due to Cooper’s barely visible stage presence and some of the melody being lost to noise from the PA, which made one glad to be wearing ear plugs! While his handle on what makes for pleasurable ambient works is clearly well developed and the use of loops effective for a one man live performance, the tracks were rudimentary and repetitive with no real climaxes. This made the whole set feel as though we were trapped in an elevator, or a holistic healing centre, listening to something pleasing, but it not taking us anywhere unique.

The air is thick with anticipation and perspiration (it’s still bloody hot in The Zoo isn’t it!?) when four men from Austin, Texas take to the stage as Explosions In The Sky. Remembered as a little piece of gold stumbled across at last year’s Coachella, it cannot be stated more that a longing for the soft grass of those polo fields was brought screaming to the frontal lobe, the lo-fi of the vibe really needing to be embraced by the venue…alas those wooden floors. “How are you guys?” we’re asked as the band makes their introductions and confirms this as their first Australian gig. Post too many “stand and deliver” bands on the scene in our modern history, the upfront crowd interaction was obviously well received. As the first notes of First Breath After Coma from The Earth is Not A Cold Dead Place commenced, the crowd dimmed and blue lights illuminated like the sky. The set progressed through all of their five CD offerings, with a grand focus on their most recent release, 2007’s All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone. From back-catalogue favourite Memorial and floating forward to finish with So Long, Lonesome – replete with theatrics of arms skyward as the smoke machine puffed and the last chords were thrashed and bashed out of drums and guitars – it is the notes, the tones and the rumbles that become the explosions. The crowd shouts and yells as the distortion builds to a crescendo, forming a wall of sonic guitar noise that you can feel in your toes. There were no breaks between songs. From one track to the next it flowed, aqueous, sometimes through rapids and waterfalls, then into grand expansive canyons where echoes could be felt, not just heard. As the last whimpers of feedback and carefully held sweetness slid from the speakers we were bid a fond adieu and sincerely thanked… with an exit just as poetic as the binary opposites of beauty and tragedy that form their music…

“Thanks a lot, that’s all the energy we got.”