HIM @ Luna Park Big Top,Sydney (23/03/06)

Mon 27th Mar, 2006 in Gig Reviews

It’s a testament to the pulling power of Finnish love metal demi Gods HIM (perhaps I’m exhibiting a slight partiality) that their only Sydney show had sold out before even a single poster had graced a telephone pole to advertise the fact.  It is with confident expectation that the mostly pre-pubescent deluge of fans assembled at the Big Top to finally experience Ville Valo et al in the flesh.  Some (including this manic scribe) have spent over a decade yearning for an antipodean tour after seeing their European and American counterparts benefit from HIM’s incessant touring schedule.

As the self ascribed proponents of ‘love metal’, their arresting melodic metal hybrid has garnered them a devoutly faithful underground following who are enamoured of their captivating dark and brooding melodies within which is entwined a poetic prose.  Despite harking from the sombre landscape of black metal country they have captivated audiences with a sound that is far more refined and polished than what most Scandinavian bands offer.  Yet, despite all this the grinding guitars and sense of melancholic nostalgia still manage to subtly seep into the melody.

The night – still pregnant with unbridled anticipation – kicked off with a rather dubious start as the support act, symphonic rockers The Eternal, struggled to maintain the upper hand with the crowd.  Their guitar driven melodic rock songs and instrumentals fit in well with the musical stylings of HIM however the crowd’s polite patience quickly dissipated with the lead singer’s pleas for the band to ‘play for a few more minutes’.  If you need to ask a thinning crowd of teenagers for permission to play your set then perhaps you are doing something wrong.   Despite the small setbacks they played a great set with well penned sophisticated tunes and will make a welcome addition to the local musical soundscape.

As the night wore on and patience wore thin the imminent arrival of the band was announced by the opening chords of Rip Out The Wings Of A Butterfly.   Bassist Mikko Paananen, guitar wunderkind Mikko Lindstrom, drummer Mika Karppinen and keyboardist Jani Purttinen were framed by a giant heartagram, two oversized chandeliers on either side of the stage and a flickering candelabra placed on Mikko’s bass stack.  Swathed in the customary swirl of smoke Ville Valo (or Wille Walo as he is known to some) wrapped his wiry frame around the microphone stand and uttered the first line.  Crowd pleasers soon followed with Chris Isaak’s luscious Wicked Game receiving the love metal treatment and becoming what appears to be a permanent fixture on their set list.  Noticeably absent was their cover of Rebel Yell which two poppets nearby were overheard to proclaim it as one of their best songs, which would of course be of interesting news to Billy Idol.

Newer songs such as Play Dead, Killing Loneliness and Vampire Heart were interspersed with perennial favourites such as Join Me, Razorblade Kiss, Poison Girl (which word has it that Valo is tired of performing) and the divine Buried Alive By Love which was sung with an overwhelming display of fervour by Valo (who sounded fantastic despite his penchant for chain smoking during gigs).  The crowd responded by raising hands clutching mobile phones and cameras to record the moment for posterity.  The band played tightly but as always kept a relatively low profile and Valo confirmed that despite being an ex bass player and part time drummer he sure as hell can sing.

If truth be told the band appeared a little bored and and at times it felt like Valo’s schtick of chain smoking and clutching the obligatory brewski, or in this case the more culturally appropriate VB, was wearing thin and robbed the show of any spontaneity.  Valo’s banter was at least witty and worthy of the admission price alone (curiously priced at $66.60, it seems his obsession with all things 666 has not abated) even if at times the crowd failed to understand him.  

Valo set out from the onset his derision for encores suggesting that chants of ‘we want more’ are there to soothe egos of lesser musicians.  The band would simply take a ‘leak’ and if the crowd was there when they returned they would happily oblige with another song.  They returned with The Sacrament but the only niggling disappointment was the omission of And Love Said No from the set list possibly the most wonderfully elegiac song in their oeuvre.

As I walked out into the rain soaked night my heart was still soaring and Valo’s sonorous almost baritone voice was still ringing in my ears despite the slight feeling of disappointment.  The endless highway stretched before me and it sadly dawned on me that this music, which once acted as a salve for life’s vapid routines, had been embraced by another generation and was no longer just mine.  It is bittersweet realisation but here’s hoping it did to their enervated souls what it once did for mine.