Gareth Liddiard, Ben Salter @The Troubadour (28/02/09)

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It was a warm night in the Troubadour tonight, where punters were treated to a special feast of front men sans-bands, courtesy of gravel-voiced The Drones’ Gareth Liddiard, ably supported by The Gin Club’s Ben Salter.

It’s been a long time since the days that Ben Salter used to hang out at O’Malleys on Queen Street Mall, where he helped the genesis of Brisbane’s favourite balladeers, The Gin Club. His set tonight heralded back to those days, with Ben singing sans-band except for a couple of tunes when fellow Ginmeister, Scott Regan, joined him onstage.

Salter’s easy going demeanour was belied by the sincerity of his delivery, sometimes like an impassioned plea for clemency, and other times like a vitriolic jab into the very centre of his thoughts. In one word, wow.

It wasn’t long before Gareth Liddiard shuffled onto the stage, clutched his guitar, took a quick drink and launched straight into a hackle-raising Cold and Sober, from last year’s Havilah record. An ironic start to the set really, considering that the heat in the packed room was nigh on stifling and there would have been quite a majority of folk who were anything but sober. This set the scene for a set of takings from The Drones, along with a few tunes that this reviewer couldn’t place. Perhaps they were well-Liddiard’ed covers, rare b-sides and outtakes, or perhaps new material. In any event, the set flowed along nicely, with Liddiard lightly bantering with the attentive audience and giving grief to those who were standing at the back of the bar chatting.

Salter then came onstage to join with Liddiard in a delightfully duet’ish version of Oh My, another cut from 2008’s Havilah. Note to both front men, do something together, because the vocal blend was just perfect. It was like the vocalising of a rasping wolf meeting a gruff and grizzled bear, who both fell in love with each other and decided to sing to the moon in joy. Perhaps that metaphor is completely inadequate, but you get the general idea.

I Don’t Ever Want To Change, from 2006’s Gala Mill record that won The Drones the Australian Music Prize, was a big hit with the punters, as was You’re Acting’s Like The End Of The World, from Havilah. But it was in the final song for this evening, Sixteen Straws, when Liddiard broke a string and declared that he doesn’t do encores, that the crowd really showed their appreciation for the talented, albeit somewhat well-juiced, fellow who happens to front one of Australia’s most loved underrated music success stories.

Nobody has hearted this, be the first!