She’s one of the most distinguishable and outlandish figures that remains prominent in both the mainstream and the underground of music. At long last, it was time to see Boston’s finest, Amanda Palmer, alongside her Danger Ensemble, doing their thing once again in Australia.

Here’s what we knew thus far – we’d hear plenty from Amanda’s solo record, Who Killed Amanda Palmer?, a few Dresden Dolls tracks and perhaps even a few covers. Additionally, The Danger Ensemble was certain to bring a tad of absurdity to the forefront in one way or another. Nevertheless, it was naturally a wise move amidst the colourful punters to simply expect the unexpected for tonight’s performance.

Our evening in the iconic Opera House Studio commenced with a visit from a sinister looking character by the name of Stephen, revealed to be the leader of the Danger Ensemble. He brought with him some “very sad news” about the lady we had all come to see. Thankfully – for us, at least, thought he – the horrible news would have to wait a little longer. Instead, he chose to introduce us to Miss Zoë Keating. For the record, this was an incredibly shrewd decision, as our insight grew into a unique, prodigious musician. Most were only aware of her work via her appearance on WKAP’s opening track, Astronaut, but tonight’s brief encounter with the lady herself proved she was so much more.

Her musical premise was simple, yet played out like the most complicated of symphonies. Keating creates entire songs based around recording herself using her weapon of choice (the cello), looping it and building said song’s foundations around said loops. This was masterfully executed by Keating, taking us through a brief selection of her own material as well as an inspired and creative instrumental rendition of Muse’s Time is Running Out (something the crowd only picked up on halfway through, as the “bury it/I won’t let you smother it” lyrics began being heard around various tables). She spoke briefly and humbly, thanking the crowd for their time. Judging by the reception to her work, she had just garnered a fresh batch of new, Australian fans.

After an intermission in which we were told to hug strangers, Stephen could prolong the news no longer – Amanda – œFucking’ Palmer was dead. The night was to be spent in mourning. The Danger Ensemble had taken their place, as had Keating as a part of a string quartet. Slowly, those around us began to notice a figure amidst the crowd, wandering towards the stage covered in a bridesmaid’s veil. The figure moved towards the grand piano, the veil dropped, the arms raised to the sky and our evening with Amanda Palmer, alive and well, had begun.

The first selection of songs for the evening, including WKAP tracks such as Astronaut and Blake Says, saw Palmer accompanied by the string quartet. The gorgeous arrangements added a completely new dimension to the music itself, developing a quintessential kind of poignancy and dark emotion – Amanda simply could not have arranged a greater set of musicians to accompany her (save, of course, for Dresden Dolls drummer Brian Vigilone ).

After a while, Palmer moved to her trusty Kurtweill electric piano to take us through a variety of fascinating tracks, ranging from brand new solo work to cuts from the Dresden Dolls’ self-titled record. It fell so quiet at points in proceedings, that Amanda was actually able to strike up conversation with several punters. Such talk ranged from Scottish songwriter Momus (of whom she had covered his song I Want You, But I Don’t Need You ) to plastic boobs (a fan had brought her one the night before and gotten the bright idea of bringing the other one tonight). The mix of both informality and respect to the performer on stage really assisted with the intimacy of the concert, and Palmer herself visibly adored it.

The Danger Ensemble were brought out for several songs, each time creating different imagery and substantiating largely different reactions. Their work in the infamous Coin Operated Boy, for example, saw the two males in the Ensemble wandering around the audience like zombies with “WILL KISS 4 KASH” signs, whilst their two female counterparts chased after them dressed in cheap bridal dresses; all to the tune of uproarious laughter from the crowd.

At the complete opposite end of the spectrum, the heart-wrenching, bleak WKAP tracks, Have to Drive and Strength Through Music, were accompanied by very simple routines that cut to the very core of the songs themselves. These left the crowd speechless until their very end, some on the verge of tears as they applauded as loudly as possible. What a sensational troupe of performers, completely worth the support and donations they were given.

After finishing the evening with a rousing rendition of Girl Anachronism alongside the string quartet, Amanda returned for a roof/hair-raising sing-along of Leeds United, followed by what has now become customary at AFP shows – a solo, ukulele version of Radiohead’s Creep. Having already nailed a beautiful version of Exit Music (For a Film) earlier in the night, Palmer couldn’t help herself for another Thom Yorke serving. What made this all so special, however, was the fact that she performed the entire song unaccompanied, wandering through the crowd as they kept time and sang with her. It was a triumphant, fun and inspiring end to a night with one of the last true characters remaining in modern music.

After that was done, Palmer and TDE promised the crowd that if they waited outside the venue, they would meet with every punter and sign whatever it was they wanted. Having not only witnessed our hero perform live, but then given the opportunity to literally come face-to-face with her, you can be certain of the one last thought on everyone’s mind as they emerged from the beautiful Opera House: Don’t make us wait another eighteen months, AFP.