What a juxtaposition of sold out shows for a Saturday night: Soundwave festival with all its big, dark, hardcoreness at the RNA Showgrounds and a lo-fi indie pop Josh Pyke show at The Tivoli on a side street right next door. Indie plaid, horn-rimmed glasses and Connies acknowledged black t-shirts, thick eyeliner and Vans on the street and asked how it was in the thumping environs that could be heard over the wall. The replies were jovial, albeit somewhat weary after a humid day. Everyone was friendly and happy to be enjoying their chosen genres, swap stories and wish each other a good night. It was good to be out amongst it.

Early starts aren’t a thing of the norm, so it was surprising to learn that an eight o’clock arrival was too late to catch Jackson McLaren ’s opening set. This was considered a real shame due to Fasterlouder’s review from the Coolangatta Hotel show – please refer to it and read the account of a mighty fine performance from the young man on Friday night.

Now, back to the Tiv. The crowd had certainly not reached capacity when the lights dimmed and the four young figures who make up Cloud Control took their places on stage. And well, hasn’t time & more support slots done these guys and gal the world of good! The entire tone of their set was far more professional than their previous shows in this town over the last six months or so. Heidi Lenferr has stopped the childlike bopping around behind her keyboards in a sundress & now presents a much more demure vibe as the siren of the group, confidently swaying in a figure-hugging black and silver number as she harmonised perfectly on every song (especially Into the Line – which is fast becoming a live favourite for a psyche-rock aficionado such as moi). Alister Wright demonstrated himself as an increasingly confident lead, his presence at the mic evidently more relaxed, his guitar work free of jittery noodling; his vocals clearer, powerful, driven. Ulrich Lenferr ’s drumming was more exact and the fills were sublime pure pop fun. Although there was little crowd engagement to start with, bassist Jeremy Kelshaw paused to happily advise that this was the first stop on the tour where everyone hasn’t been sitting on the floor, thanking all for such a great, energetic vibe. It perplexes as to how anyone could possibly remain seated with the calibre of joyously danceable tunes this band delivered sans delay; Vintage Books, Buffalo Country and Death Cloud holding their own separately and together as one of the tightest, most enjoyable sets of this genre since The Shins or Belle & Sebastian last graced the same stage.

Shortly after, the room filled, personal space dwindled and the atmosphere’s energy level soared. A large monochrome picture of a lighthouse shining its powerful warning beams into a dark tempestuous ocean descended to form the backdrop for the anxiously awaited headliner. Minutes later a singular beam highlighted a lone violinist stage right. Playing a haunting melody that echoed through the timbers it quietened the crowd a little, until the stage was swamped with light & all players were revealed.

Launching straight into Chimney’s Afire and You Don’t Scare Me, it became apparent the set list for each Chimney’s Afire tour show is probably about the same – all of the new release’s tracks pretty much in their recorded order with Memories & Dust favourites slotted in between. Understandably so, and supremely enjoyable because of it.

It’s not until third track Lines on Palms that Pyke took a breath to offer a salutation and thank everyone for coming along. Clearly chuffed with the number of people crammed into the floorspace and hanging from the mezzanine, post the voluminous singing (‘screeching’ being somewhat more apt for the sounds coming out of some of the very enthusiastic female punters) along with the expletives within The Lighthouse Song, he asked for the house lights to be turned up so he could see the crowd. Everyone went nuts in response. There’s just no better word for it – he looked stoked.

Returning to the music, when asking for crowd participation Pyke surely received. Requesting assistance with the chorus for Our House Breathing, all sung the entire thing back to him, “Yep, you’re all in the band,” he smiled, and off it went, a sold out Tivoli singing in unison again.

One aspect of the evening that needs to be acknowledged with full and due respect; the band. Violin, bass and drums were all in shadow, just visible neath understated lighting for the most part, they were Mummenschanz with instruments; almost invisible souls controlling the strings & shapes that made this event as turgid with beautiful sound as it was. Truly exemplar support.

Jumping from one album to the other from Parking Lot and Variations to Private Education across to The Summer and back into Sew My Name, it seemed like most of Pyke’s catalogue was going to get a look in and requests – for such things as “umm what’s that chicken song?”, were thus turned away with a good natured “I’m not a fucking jukebox people,” quip that served to make everyone, including the man himself (“I’ve always wanted to say that.”), laugh heartily into the next track.

As the pace ebbed with slower tunes such as Where Two Oceans Meet, the chatter started to flow and the usual ‘this is our last song’ comment was offered twenty minutes prior to the known end time for the show. Coming back pretty quickly to the stage, we were treated to three more tracks, Pyke stopping just before his REAL last song to offer it as thanks to all of those punters who were there when he first played Brisbane at The Troubadour all those years ago, finishing up with Middle of the Hill. Why, thanks Josh, it’s been a pleasure. Hope you come back soon.