Oh Tomás Ford, there really is no one like him. When our parents were dishing out the early childhood lectures about being an individual and “being true to yourself” it can be guaranteed that this fine gentleman sat up and took it all to heart and ran off to the stage immediately.

First of all, as a performer, he’s quite mad. Excessive costumes, glittered face, jolted dancing around wherever he may be and a mouth that would make your grandmother cry, he really is all that and a bag of potato chips.

On his last tour, Ford exclaimed “oh yeah, my Mum is a nasty bitch; she’s wild”, much to the bewilderment of the Canberra crowd. And though he later followed up with an explanation of how wonderful she actually is, and pointed out her assistance with his costume, it gives you an idea of what to expect. That is, if your image is a man wearing fluorescent clothing from head to toe and has an expression on his face like he’s about to attack you while simultaneously giving you a lap dance and a face full of glitter.

This nationwide tour, his very own Birthday Party, was one with all the stops pulled out. Part burlesque underworld, part mardi gras, part mental asylum; I wasn’t the only one who stumbled out feeling lucky to be alive by the end of the night and wondering what exactly had just happened. The Front can be misleading like that, poked away neatly in the Lyneham shops, all wood panelling and art space, low-key furniture and wreaking of hemp. And yet inside was a man hitting the timber like it was no show queen’s business.

The absolute highlight to Ford’s shows is the level of uniqueness he brings to each one. He is so shocking and captivating that once you see one show, you will invariably go back to another simply to see what happens next and watch first timer’s reactions.

Aside from the glitz and glam, he’s a truly wonderful musician. His mash of electronic beats and distorted melodies (read: everything) forces your ears to get past what your eyes see and take him seriously. You don’t win three WAMI’s out of nothing, and you certainly don’t score the support slot for the upcoming Caribou and Fourtet tour if you don’t know what you’re doing.

He’s everything fantastic and ridiculous that electronic music can be without the ego of Nick Littlemore and it makes for good listening, and a damned fine show. Willing to try anything with laptop programming and tulle, he is the epitome of the unforgettable performer.