Check out the photos from tonight’s great show here!

Baseball. What a freakin’ show! Their tracks are so vast they verge on epic. It’s punk-rock-choral-metal-gypsie abandon. Frontman Thick Passage is a wildman. Reminiscent of Nicholas Hope’s characterisation of Pop as a lead singer in a rock band in the film Bay Boy Bubby, he plays electric violin as though he too is plugged into the power. His electric-shocked hair, spasmodic dance moves and all-encompassing hollers are confronting, while his singing voice is nothing short of pure manly emotion. Monika Fikerle (also in Love of Diagrams) and Evelyn Morris alternate between tribal bass and drums, Monika resplendent when wailing her gothic vocals. Ben Butcher’s guitar drives the tone, the depth of each track. It’s truly a unique experience both aurally and visually. With all the movement and on the stage, the silent crowd appears medically sedated – quite possibly awed – until the applause starts after each song. By the end of the set Passage’s bow is a flowing, flicking mess of tendrils flying back and forth with each strike against the strings. A compelling opener, if not a surprising juxtaposition to the headliners.

Strolling onto the dimly lit Zoo stage, John Darnielle greets us quietly with grace and confidence. The quiet demeanour is quickly explained, Darnielle has a throat infection that precludes him from shouting energetically, in fact he has been told by a doctor that he shouldn’t sing at all, so tonight’s performance will be gentler, shorter than anticipated but guarantee a return visit in the not too distant future. All are happy with this information, simply grateful he was committed to playing for us. And why wouldn’t you be when a set as special as this one fills your Sunday evening? Oh what a chore to spend a balmy Queensland night that cooled nicely after an excruciatingly humid weekend being lulled by The Mountain Goats. It’s tough.

Commencing with Elijah from his 1997 solo acoustic release Full Force Galesburg, Darnielle promises he won’t be playing new songs all night like other touring bands do. After two other tracks from this release, he moves to more modern times, delighting us with a hushed version of Dinu Lipatti’s Bones. It’s so silent throughout this first part of the set that all that can be heard beyond his music is the constant whirr of the many fans on the walls and ceiling of the venue. No one speaks; there isn’t even a floor creak. It’s thrilling to participate in such a demonstration of reverence and respect for a troubadour of unquestioned literary and musical genius. Speaking frankly, Darnielle smiles as he recounts stories of playing in Brisbane previously and learning not to play This Year too early in the set – as “you guys get wild!” Thanking all sincerely “for being quiet while a sick guy plays you acoustic guitar,” we’re enveloped in his stories, In Craters on the Moon and Have to Explode sinking all further into a delicious song-swept stupor.

Anticipation mounting, it was clear the tempo just had to increase sometime soon; all in statis like waiting for a bomb to detonate. There are drums and other amps set up on stage, so the rumours are true that Darnielle will be touring with Paul Hughes (bass) and Jon Wurster (drums). During Song for Dennis Brown, these two men stride onto the stage to join in; the crowd ebullient in its response to their addition. After International Small Arms Traffic Blues we’re advised that there will be a change to the set and from this point forward it is Paul Hughes and the crowd who take on the singing duties. All right! More new things. What an event.

A test of memory evidenced by the request for a teleprompter as part of the rider in future, Hughes takes on See America Right and completely nails it. The energy is not permitted to wane as Palmcorder Yajna invokes the first full sing-a-long moment, but certainly not the last. The room is full of smiling faces and cheers as the first chords of the song that isn’t to be played early echoes out and Darnielle asks the crowd to take on full vocal duties, him prompting the first few words of each line and the audience doing the rest with unabashed joy. It must have been an amazing thing to hear from outside down on Ann St, a couple of hundred people singing every word to This Year in unison, full volume. Not ending the camaraderie there, we’re asked if we want to continue and a young girl is lifted mid song onto the stage to sing (what I believe was) Tallahassee’s No Children with the rest of the adoring fans belting it out with her. If only it could have been recorded. A moment that closed 2008 and opened 2009 to endless possibilities; one of the best gigs of this year. Let’s hope they come back soon.