Cold Chisel, You Am I @Allphones Arena, Sydney(9/11/11)

Thu 10th Nov, 2011 in Gig Reviews

Tim Rogers – shirtless, sneering and clearly under the influence of a tinnie or three – looks out over a mass of mostly bemused punters as You Am I plays on in the background. “If we don’t all get laid tonight,” he slurs, “there is something seriously wrong – ‘coz you’re not gonna fucken believe Chisel’s show!” This is only one of the multiple nuggets of gold that Timmy hurls at an audience that is simultaneously death-glaring this young hooligan and making a b-line for the bar to drain their week’s wages.

Even when they’re opening for one of the biggest bands in the history of this country, it’s nothing short of admirable that Rogers and co. don’t tone down their act for anyone. They’re still one of the most fun-loving and genuinely outstanding live acts this country has to offer, whether you’re talking rock bands or any other genre. Although the mixing desk does them little justice, with drummer Rusty Hopkinson sounding as though he’s playing down the bottom of a well, they still refuse to let the energy levels drop throughout their blistering set. It’s as if they’re intentionally playing as loudly as they can to stand their ground, to prove that they can hold their own in an environment such as this.

After hanging up the Sold Out signs on practically every single show, Cold Chisel’s long-awaited Light The Nitro comeback tour was already a success before a single note was played. At their first of three Sydney shows, however, the band validated this success with a thoroughly entertaining two-hour performance. The show was especially admirable for how much the band themselves put into each song, especially when it was clear they didn’t have to in order to get the crowd onside. Hell, all it took from Jimmy Barnes during opener Standing on the Outside was a couple of “Hey!”s and “How-are-ya?”s to start miniature riots up in the stands. When he wasn’t doing that, however, Barnesy was powering through his vocals as if he was trying to blow the PA out. After several years sober, he has managed to reclaim that distinctive glass-shattering voice and give it was much power now as he had in its glory days.

Let’s not even think of counting out the other players that make up the Chisel sound, either. Ian Moss was a star in his own right, with a voice that is less intense than Barnes’ yet much more tender and soulful in nature. His piece de resistance, Bow River, had to be one of the best moments of the entire set, bringing the house down with a blistering rendition of the song. Watching the man play guitar is certainly a sight to behold, too; oozing a proficiency in his playing that can only come with decades of experience, maneuvering his way through each of his plentiful guitar solos as if he had never played it before.

Major credit is also due to the band’s new drummer, Charlie Drayton. Replacing a musician like the late Steve Prestwich is no easy feat, and it’s something Drayton himself would be more than aware of; but he has locked into the fold remarkably well, knowing when to drive the songs with the rumble of bassist Phil Small and when to let the songs drive themselves. A very welcome addition to the band, it was great to watch Drayton bring a new life to these songs.

Each song was performed with a great energy, but the audience made no secrets of which songs were their favourites. The second Choirgirl started, you could barely hear the band for all of the en-mass singing along, which subsequently continued into a slower, groovier take on Cheap Wine. All it took was a single note of recognition – the slow drum rise into Flame Trees, the slick blues riff of My Baby, the barroom piano of Khe Sanh (which even had the lyrics up on the screens, karaoke-style) – and the venue was on its collective feet. If you can name a Chisel hit off the top of your head, there’s a very strong chance it was played.

It wasn’t all a matter of rocking the audience’s collective socks off, however: a well-timed acoustic session brought the entire band into the centre of the stage to give a tender, heartfelt performance of the Prestwich-penned When the War is Over, with Barnes dedicating it – as well as “every set we play for the rest of our lives” – to their late drummer. Following it up with a sizzling Breakfast at Sweetheart’s certainly didn’t go astray, either, as the entire audience let out a collective “Ohhhhh!” when the wordless hook of the chorus hit.

Granted, it’s quite easy for a show in such a large venue by such a large band make for a distant, uncomfortable evening. That’s the great thing about a band like Cold Chisel, though: they give everyone from the lanyard-carrying super-fans in the front to the ones “trapped up the back” (as Barnesy himself put it) a very solid evening of entertainment that never once came across as contrived or forced. Don’t be too cool to get on board with it.