Kele, Strange Talk @Billboard, Melbourne(02/08/2011)

Fri 5th Aug, 2011 in Gig Reviews

Opening for *Kele*must be a daunting task. Ahead of one of the most anticipated Splendour sideshows to hit Melbourne, Strange Talk were always going to have a hard time getting people moving at the very PG-13+ time of 8.30. To their credit though, they pulled out all the stops. The rising Melburnian four-piece put on a slick show, getting the still-building crowd onside with recent Triple J favourites Climbing Walls and Eskimo Boy, and generally doing their reputation as a band to watch no harm at all.

By the time Kele, nonchalantly strolled onstage with his band to the strains of Gary Numan’s Airlane, crowd anticipation had pretty much reached fever pitch. When he peeled off his sweater after completing his first song, the badass playground chant Walk Tall, an audible gasp rippled through the crowd. Resplendent in a thugged-out muscle shirt and gold chain, with muscles rippling all over the place and a freshly shaven head, Kele’s look was more G-Unit than Bloc Party; a long way from his days as an indie pin-up. Judging by the response it garnered from the crowd though, people were pretty okay with that.

Sporting said outfit, Kele proceeded to cover a lot of ground, stalking across the stage, grooving away, and generally whipping his audience into a tizz. And they were his audience; Kele ran through every cliche in the hype-man’s arsenal, exhorting the crowd to make some noise at every opportunity, claiming he couldn’t hear us, and regularly inquiring, ‘are you ready’? Hackneyed? Yes. Effective? Absolutely. During the excellent Tenderoni, Kele even pulled a very fortunate patron by the name of Emma onstage for a dance and a singalong. A perfect gentleman, he thanked her for her contribution before jokingly calling security on her. Did I mention that he had the crowd on a string?

At this point, Okereke announced that the next song was for the ‘old fans’. There was a distinct note of tension in the fact that he wouldn’t or couldn’t mention his old band by name, but Bloc Party fans didn’t care, as they were treated to a triple-header, a club-ready medley of Blue Light, The Prayer, and One More Chance, prompting near-delirious states amongst audience members.

The drawbacks of the show were the same that have been following Okereke throughout his career. His strong, distinctive voice, in theory a strength rather than a weakness, has an unfortunate tendency to slide past and around notes. His preference for slightly by-numbers songwriting and the occasional dodgy lyric manifested itself also, although in the context of a colossal dance party, which the gig frequently resembled, these could be considered strengths too. As it turns out, what sounds awkward on record can sound brilliant when being chanted by a room full of lagered-up punters.

These might have been bigger issues but for Okereke’s magnetism as a performer, and the sonic variation that covered for the sameness of the vocals. From the nasty chewing-gum synths of Walk Tall and Tenderoni’s cheese-tastic key stabs through to the delicate glockenspiel on This Modern Love and the guitar contortions of Flux, the dynamism and casual excellence of Kele’s three-piece backing band was notable. In the band’s versatility and Kele’s casual command of the stage, the benefits of doing hard time in a touring band were there for all to see.

After closing a generous five-song encore with the kinetic Flux, a heavily-flagged second encore brought This Modern Love, from the back end of Silent Alarm. A somewhat melancholic end to a joyous evening, it nonetheless brought the house down, leaving a smile on the faces of fans both old and new.