Swell Season @ Fremantle ArtsCentre 25/1/09

Thu 29th Jan, 2009 in Gig Reviews

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It was plainly perfect weather in Fremantle for an outdoor gig. This one drew a crowd numbering in the thousands, many of them proudly Irish, and all of them seeming to have a wonderful if not borderline ecstatic time. The size of the audience was a shock, not because it was undeserved but simply because many higher-profile acts that make it to WA draw smaller crowds.

Anybody expecting this Swell Season gig to be a laid-back duo affair had their ears and eyes happily challenged by a thriving 6-piece band. With main man Glen Hansard switching between acoustic and electric guitars, and Marketa Irglova at turns behind the piano and the microphone, it may have been enough of a show, but the songs were fleshed out to full effect with additional guitars, bass, drums and violin.

Swell Season’s brand of affirming pop/rock can come off as being middle of the road, which in a kinder light means their tunes have a familiar broad appeal. So at this gig, in ideal conditions with such obviously ardent fans dancing, singing and lovingly heckling, it was easy to get carried along with them and be convinced for an hour that this was special stuff. The songs ranged from the moody piano and soaring choruses of Fitzcarraldo to moments of almost-AC/DC straight ahead rock

Curly-haired Hansard, looking literally blue-collar, had great in-between-song banter with the crowd, but with a charming accent like his, he could’ve slandered our mothers and still raised a cheer. The picnic-rug crew at the back of the crowd missed a few of the quips he exchanged with the front rows, but they could hear the laughter that followed.

Swell Season’s whole set passed by in a feelgood daze, and as it drew to a close, everybody in the vast white-plastic-chair section stood and went mental. Rising as one, their hands thrust high above their heads in applause, carried by Fremantle’s sensual breeze. From at least one vantage point you would’ve witnessed a grown man scream “We love you!” more than once after drawing enough breath to recover from his blissful drunken dancing.

The band couldn’t leave it at that; they returned and topped everything that came before with the ridiculously positive Heyday complete with the still-standing crowd clapping in unison to every beat and joining in the call-and-response chorus. As the band kept plugging away at the bouncy chords, Hansard resumed chatting.

“You know I can’t even tell if you’re singing because those guys,” he pointed front left, “the Irish guys are so loud.”

And so, from an encore tune (and a whole set) that your grandmother could sing in church, came a piece of heartfelt and incongruous twentysomething crowd praise that confirmed the gig was a winner. “That was sick man, that was so fucking sick – that was the sickest shit I saw in my life.”
And he was one of the sober punters.

Swell Season didn’t bring anything new to the table, but then it seems life’s true pleasures tend to remain constant.

Have a look at Mulzy’s Pics