Friendly Fires, Cut Off YourHands @ Billboard The Venue,Melbourne (29/07/2011)

Mon 1st Aug, 2011 in Gig Reviews

When Cut Off Your Hands made their presence known to the sparsely populated Billboard venue, a place more readily associated with high-NRG dance music than fey, Smiths-loving New Zealanders, one was reminded of the fickleness of music; of fandom, of hype, of fashion. Supporting the white-hot Friendly Fires, who are touring a second album that built on the strengths of the first, Cut Off Your Hands are lucky to even be here, having lost a key member and almost falling apart through the making of their own follow-up.

COYH ploughed through a set consisting primarily of material from their recently released second album, Hollow. Whether it was the underwhelming turnout, or the more sombre material of the album, the band failed to hit their straps. Frontman Nick Johnstone’s newly-adopted guitar diminished his considerable stage presence, and softened the angular rhythms that were not so long ago the band’s calling card. Tellingly, all parties seemed relieved when Johnstone put down the guitar, before the band closed their set with a slew of older material, with You And I cuts Still Fond, Expectations and Turn Cold, in addition to early single You And I. This was a volley of properly exhilarating guitar pop, but there was a tinge of melancholy in the fact that the clear highlights of the set all came from three years ago, from when these guys looked poised to explode. They played a good show, but the a nagging sense of what-might-have-been seemed to be weighing upon them.

None of this, however, was of any concern to many of the punters that poured through the door in time for Friendly Fires’ opening salvo, Lovesick. From the moment lead singer Ed Macfarlane burst on stage in a rather fetching tropical shirt to share the news that he was, in fact, ‘Luuuuuuuuuuuurve-sick’, the crowd was in the palm of his hand.

Looking for all the world like he was born on stage, Macfarlane threw shapes all over the place, coming up with some outrageous new forms of bodily expression. His bandmates didn’t seem to mind being put in the shade, though. Guitarist Edd Gibson and drummer Jack Savidge, augmented live by a horn section, keys and percussion, seemed to enjoy Macfarlane’s antics as much as the crowd did, while still applying considered focus to their own performances.

To that end, it was great to see a primarily electronic band really performing, and not delegating too many musical tasks to a backing track. Whilst there was a hint of similarity to the songs from a textural point of view, this is probably a realistic compromise resulting from a predominantly live set-up, given the complexity of some arrangements. Luckily, things never got too muddy, and there was always plenty of room for Macfarlane’s typically impassioned vocals and skyscraping hooks. It was a pity, though, that Gibson’s guitar didn’t cut through a little more, as it could’ve really added an extra dimension to the band’s live presentation.

Ordinarily, a set as one-paced as Friendly Fires’ would be a problem, with momentum sagging and audience interest flagging through the weaker songs. However, Friendly Fires don’t do weaker songs; they do albums that sound like greatest hits collections, and they do shows that test their audience’s endurance, in a good way. How much more dancing can you endure? How many more epic choruses? How many more sweet, rump-shaking grooves?

By the time they closed with a percussion jam at the end of the much-loved Kiss Of Life, it was clear that the audience had passed this particular endurance test. By extension, so too had Friendly Fires. The crowd let them know as much by cheering louder than the song itself, before going home, sweaty, a little dazed, and with heads crammed full of melodies.