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Humble Bee

According to the whimsical “creation myth” that surrounds them, our opening act simply came about by “happy accident”. One lazy afternoon they simply threw some twee lyrics together, a tiny glockenspiel, a lightly strummed guitar, it was perfect from the get go and they’ve never looked back. Instant indie pop success story! A million homespun records sold! Wall to wall rapturous applause and accolades! Mothers and daughters fainting in the street! Such mindnumbing splendiferous wonder.. whoaaa shit! ENCORE! ENCORE!!

Of course the truth of the matter is likely far more convoluted. I can picture it now: a lengthy and laboured process involving countless auditions, rehearsals, heated arguments, hysterical screaming, thrown furniture, knife fights, followed by a series of hastily dug gravesites where Carly Whittaker, lead singer and chief instigator (and part-time serial killer) buried all her other luckless collaborators before finally settling upon the infamous Ben Revi to complete the picture (he of far too many punchlines written at his expense by yours truly) where undoubtedly true genius was then born. Yup indie pop IS a grisly business, make no mistakes about it, few people ever realise just how much blood and toil goes into sounding THIS effortless; still its nice to believe in the dream isn’t it?

Humble Bee – predominantly a lightly dappled folk duo between Carly Whittaker: librarian, blogger, zinester, photographer, collector, poet and singer (or at least according to their myspace) and Ben Revi (who obviously needs no introduction after all the hell I’ve put HIM through) they’ve carved out a cute-as-pie niche for themselves composing heartfelt songs about falling in and out of love that’ll be sure to feature heavily in the next ipod commercial, episode of Grey’s Anatomy or saccharin sweet romcom starring Katherine Heigl fretting over shoes. Yup in many ways you could compare them to a 21st century update of Frente!, Feist or maybe even French singer songwriter SoKo and as much as you may be gouging your eyes out screaming over all the pastel possibilities in twee folk and pop that involves, they actually DO compare quite favourably. Their compositions are effortlessly sparse, blissfully simply and emotionally forthright. Their debut album When I Should Be Sleeping, recorded in various home studios throughout 2008 (and sold tonight for the princely sum of $5) is nothing short of an indie pop masterpiece. And tonight to really seal the deal, and in no less the “happy accident” form they’ve assembled an orchestra of sorts: featuring various members from their OTHER band Cheer Advisory Council (plus what appears to be a twelve year old girl playing the keys.. wuh!?) to kill us all with kindness.

Overall it feels like less of a live gig and more like a witty conversation shared between band members and audience (helped no doubt by the lengthy between song banter that almost threatens to overtake the setlist) and yet it still sets the mood beautifully. In every way they’re like Christmas Day and we’re like the proverbial Grinch who’s heart swells three times its tiny size in it’s awestruck presence. Encore indeed!

The Lucksmiths

And as for our headlining act? Living indie pop legends for the past seventeen years? Releasing eight albums, three mini-albums and three b-sides and rarities compilations? Each and every one of their songs ripe with such bountiful wealth and whimsy on the very minutia of the human condition, lauded around the world as true heroes of the Melbourne music scene? YEAAAS!! Well guess what? up until their final farewell tour tonight I knew absolutely NOTHING about them! Awesome huh!? I may possess a wealth of musical riches collected from well over nine hundred and eighty artists worldwide, over ten thousand songs, a veritable record library to rival any radio station and yet I’m STILL utterly ignorant of shit as near brilliant as this? I know, clearly I’m the last person who should ever be reviewing them. I should probably stop now before I completely embarass myself, but has this ever stopped me before? FUCK NO!!

The Lucksmiths – as much as I can gather they’re one of those “best kept secrets” that every subgenre and scene keeps close at hand like a secret handshake, the sort of band that gets whispered in hushed tones and bowed reverence, the sort of band somebody in the know only tells you about after you’ve paid your dues listening to all the other insufferable dredges that surround them. In fact if it weren’t for indie pop afficionado Anthony Wignall (from The Keepsakes ) recommending them to me in the first place I wouldn’t even be here at their farewell gig tonight! (damn, better late than ever huh!?). The Lucksmiths. As much as I can gather they’re a mix between The Shins, The Smiths and a little bit of They Might Be Giants; possessing a similarly ramshackle approach to songwriting as other blissfully shambolic American indie acts such as Modest Mouse and Tapes ‘N Tapes.

Every song here is a “happy accident”, smashed out with itchy trigger aplomb in the space of two to three minutes. The instrumentation is loose, almost comically so. An upright drumkit smashed within an inch of its life by their lead singer Tali White. Sinewy guitar chords from Marty Donald on the left. Punch drunk bass rhythms from Marky Monnone on the right. Whilst “recent” addition Chris Crouch (joining the band in 2004) hides out in the back alternating between guitar, keys and melodica. The real charm here is how haphazardly yet naturally it all comes to together. It takes pride in all its rough hewn edges. There’s something very human about them in that respect that instantly appeals. Quite like Humble Bee before them their extended two hour set tonight is a two way conversation, a collaboration, rather than a band simply screaming from a pulpit. It instantly puts you at ease in quite the same way as seeing your parents laughing drunk at a dinner party for the first time makes you instantly realise that not only are they NOT infallible but they’re just like you.

Although it’s only the first time I’ve ever seen them (and ironically the last) it still feels like I’ve known them my entire life. Maybe that right there is why indie pop is so appealing, yet so often maligned. It may be deceptively simple and accessible, but it’s also the most refreshingly honest. As long as we’ve got goofy shit like THIS to bring us all together? life really ain’t all that bad!

READ MORE FROM SPOZ’S RANT HERE.