Jarvis pics here

Having hosted the incomparable Sia two nights ago, The Hi-Fi’s unfriendly contours rapidly get filled by Britpop diehards and both young and ageing hipsters of all denominations. As the bar becomes a siege zone, the incongruous support act – M. Craft, a bearded “sensitive singer-songwriter” in the vein of Fergus Brown – and accompanying keyboardist (a shy-looking, bob-sporting indie chick) quietly walk onstage and launch into the first of wistful minor-key ditties.

Augmented by minimal beats and occasional sax and full of what wannabe critics often term “cute harmonies”, the unassuming Sydneysider’s lyrical, melodic fare would have suited a cosier venue like The Troubadour. Tonight it – unfortunately – merely equates to music to socialise to and only draws modest applause. He’s done in a half-hour, thanks us for listening with traceable sarcasm and retreats as the curtains are drawn. Hopefully the troubadour doesn’t judge us Brisbanites too harshly and comes back up for a solo show where he can triumph without punters excitedly blabbering about the headlining act over his music.

The lukewarm response to the warm-up artist aside, everyone in the audience is here with obvious intent: to see ex-*Pulp* leader, style icon and patron saint of ageing hipsters everywhere Jarvis Cocker sing his oh-so-clever-and-ironic lyrics, do the “hands”, strut about and shake his legendary, trousered skinny derriere, all of which the speccy lothario eventually does and then some. As an intro, the backing band (with fellow Pulp veteran and longtime collaborator Steve Mackey on bass) sustain one fuzz-drenched note for nearly a minute before the designer-scruffy, immaculately-tight-pants & blazer clad-showman emerges to cataclysmic cheers, kicks the air and leads the opening charge with latest single Angela.

Suffice to say, the song is an excellent exercise in retro-hip groove – insistent garage-rock riff, catchy vocal hook in the chorus and a snappy, vintage stomping beat – and serves as a great start to the show as well as an undeniable set highlight. His skinny frame never staying in one spot, the mic-swinging dandy quips “Your sugar level’s low, here you go” before tossing a lolly into the crowd during a brief banter break. From Jarvis ’ latest album Further Complications, the rambunctious title track, sampled howl-drenched Fuckingsong, cynical love ballad Leftovers and the calculatedly gloopy Slush follow. Later on, the lilting Big Julie is the first track from his self-titled solo debut aired and Tonight gets a shimmering, 12-string electric-laced treatment, while newie I Never Said I Was Deep charms with its self-ironic lyrics… but do they, along with the author’s delivery, express a genuine sentiment?

The first doubt starting to sink in this Pulp-reared writer’s head, Homewrecker! sees the JC Of Cool emit a series of larynx-shredding shrieks that essentially pertain to eardrums being confronted with non-musical noise. From then on, the concert turns into an ageing hipster worship session, Jarvis feeding the crowd what the crowd wants, doing the robot, readjusting his famed floppy hair, raising a bourbon to “the end of the Prohibition” and failing to summon any mojo with Black Magic.

The encore partially makes up for the distinctive taste of disillusionment in my mouth with an older glory in the shape of Don’t Let Him Waste Your Time, the indie girl sex symbol not resisting a chance to bend over during the “where the sun don’t shine” line. He then delivers another monologue, this time about the virtues of disco music and being “born at a disco”, but whoever hoped to go apeshit to Disco 2000 quickly settle down as the languid-yet-boring Discosong incites the previously dormant wish to leave before the grand finale within me and I exit the venue before the song is over. No extended feedback interval or the still-prescient (The Cunts Are Still) Running The World for this reviewer -while JC remains a fantastic entertainer and a witty raconteur, his old band were still in a different class when they were around. Tonight, we’re merely helping the aged.