Little Red, World's End Press@ The Palace, Melbourne(24/06/2011)

Mon 27th Jun, 2011 in Gig Reviews

In was an interesting crowd that awaited Little Red on the hometown leg of their All Mine tour. After a few years as a well-kept secret amongst Melburnian music fans, the last year and a half has seen the band explode. In lunchboxes, in board-rooms, at tram-stops, all of a sudden, Little Red are everywhere.

Of the wide cross-section of fans that turned out to the Palace, it seemed a fair proportion were aware of the Triple J-approved first support, rising stars World’s End Press. For the uninitiated though, their acid-house-cum-disco stylings must have been quite a shock. Led by the all-singing, all-flailing John Parkinson, they tore through a set of festival-ready anthems, defying the laws of thermodynamics and winning the crowd over in the process. The only knock that one could level at World’s End Press is their liberal use of backing tracks; when three-quarters of the band are dancing like loonies and yet torrents of sound are streaming forth, it’s a little incongruous. Still, WEP are the sort of support act that headliners fear; they were preposterously fun, and they owned the stage, though it was only on loan.

Little Red are now bona fide stars, and they have adapted admirably to their new surrounds. Hints of their mod/blue-eyed soul origins remain, but they are now mixed in with more contemporary elements. Their stagecraft is sleeker, their sound bigger and, in the case of plaid-clad keyboardist Tom Hartney, even their waistcoats have risen to the occasion. Sonically, Midnight Remember is a quantum leap from Listen To Little Red, and one gets the sense that it was for situations like this, a packed Palace on a Friday night, that Midnight Remember was conceived. Given the way latest single All Mine was received, it would seem that they’ve nailed it. Building from a spare guitar riff and a plaintive vocal, All Mine climaxed with a massive sing-a-long, a lighters-in-the-air moment worthy of The Boss himself.

As always, lead vocal duties were shared between bassist Quang Dinh, guitarist Dom Byrne and Hartney. Dinh offered a sultry falsetto on Forget About Your Man, and a more familiar R&B croon on the likes of early single Witchdoctor, while Hartney lent his hammy, smoky baritone to Follow You There and the crowd-pleasing encore Coca-Cola. Byrne, though, was the main man. His piercing, cracked tenor carried many of the bigger tunes on the night, and it’s probably no coincidence that his profile has increased as Little Red has moved into the terrain of widescreen pop. His star turns on All Mine and +Slow Motion_ were not only proof of this, but absolute highlights of the night. If there are ego clashes, though, they are well concealed. As Byrne hesitantly introduced a new song, Hartney gently chided him with ‘It’s a good song, man’. When it was time for Hartney to take a lead vocal, Byrne vacated his mic and went off to share with fellow guitarist Adrian Beltrame. Over the course of the evening, this front four proved they are still some of the best harmonists going around, swapping lines with incredible dexterity and generally giving evidence of a band with great chemistry.

There’s always a catch, though. As they’ve grown, Little Red have moved from their own distinctive niche into a very crowded realm. Whilst they continue to produce terrific pop songs, I’m not sure if Australia needs another Temper Trap just yet. Though the quality of the songs, and the band’s performance, never let up over the course of the show, the swelling keyboards and mid-tempo material from Midnight Remember was a little same-ey at times. A band can’t be faulted for giving their audience what they want though, and given the way that just about every corner of the Australian musical public has embraced them, I’m inclined to let Little Red off.

They still thrill the most, however, when they are just themselves; not rock stars, but a group of slightly daggy, extremely talented guys. Endearingly erratic drummer Taka Honda proved as much, getting one of the biggest cheers of the night by falling off his bass drum, before sheepishly apologising to his drum tech for the trouble he’d caused. You don’t tend to get that at a Temper Trap gig.