The Fly By Night Musicians Club celebrates its 20th year this year, quite an awesome achievement, and doubtless a major contributing factor in the quality and quantity of successful Perth bands. So the crowd on Friday night prompted a bit of hypothesizing; the two favourites went like this:

1. Twenty years ago, a bunch of musicians got together and formed an indie music collective to which they would sell memberships. To get the thing off the ground, they each bought a lifetime membership to give to their 40-something mid-life crisis stricken parents, who, now that they have retired, have time to go to concerts again, and so they do.

or,

2. None of Friday’s audience members had their glasses on when they bought tickets, and thought they were going along to see Louden Wainwright instead.

You may wonder what stimulated this ageist grrr: The song that inspires the most heartbreakingly offensive sing along, Bloody Motherfucking Arsehole did not make it into the setlist. And despite suggestions that Martha Wainwright may not feel the same way about whatever inspired the lyrics in the first place, surely somewhere in the almost two hour set, there was space to fit one angsty angry little rant to stomp its feet amongst the passion of the rest, and knock its head against the beauty of her voice. Perhaps the song was removed at the last minute because the second time someone in the audience requested it by shouting out the title, another fan, possibly unfamiliar with the song, and thinking to defend the lady from hecklers or abuse, responded angrily “hey, loser mullet, if you don’t like it get out!”

Reviewer’s childish tantrum aside, The Martha Wainwright gig was exceptional. Not only was her voice as powerful and controlled as it is on the album I Know You’re Married But I’ve Got Feelings Too but her socks and shoes caused a flurry of excitement among the nanas who elbowed their way forward, standing on their tip toes to have a look. Beginning the set with Factory she had the whole audience attentive and swaying from the very first song. Ball and Chain very nearly prompted a sing along, and Bleeding All Over You got a few arms waving above the crowd.

Wainwright was relaxed and friendly, telling us stories about going for a swim in her underwear in our ocean, introducing us to her Bassist / Producer / Multi instrumentalist-Husband Brad Albetta, who had some trouble with the settings on the synth and a bit of a tanty himself because he couldn’t make it sound right. He got progressively grumpier towards the end of the set, but it really became obvious when they reappeared for an encore in which he was to play the piano accompaniment to Stormy Weather and apologised in advance for any mistakes he might have made. Cheeky Martha kept pushing his limits, calling out support act, Fergus Brown for a cover of Pink Floyd’s See Emily Play which dissolved into a stage trashing event, at the end of which, Albetta, now on drums, stood and kicked the kit off the platform. The appalled instrument technician who appeared once the band had left looked just like a librarian who has found a wad of chewing gum in a favourite book.

A few words must be said here about the support act who had 30 minutes of lovely storytelling songs to share with us, with skilful guitar playing and Brown’s rich vocal tones. It was his flatmate and assistant Holly Austin who really shone during the performance however, playing keyboard, snare, cymbal, melodica, and squeaky rubber hamburger, as well as building an astonishing percussive arrangement using clicks and claps and an imaginary trumpet, layered live with a loop pedal.

The undoubted highlight of the set was the cover of the Leonard Cohen song The Traitor which was performed for the Cohen documentary of a few years back. She had all members of her band sing a verse, their uncertain masculine voices only adding to the song’s beauty. Of course, the cover prompted some audience members to request other Cohen songs for her to cover, until Albetta reminded the audience that this was in fact a Martha Wainwright show, and she, showing a remarkable knowledge of his movements, told us that the man himself would be here in February.

She closed the set, thanking us for coming, and with a hope that she would be back again next year to flash her undies to the people in McDonalds as she strips off to bathe in the Indian Ocean again.

Check out the gallery byTim Davis