Touring on the back of their magnificent release ‘Moo, You Bloody Choir’, Melbournians Augie March played to a packed home crowd and despite some setbacks delivered the goods. It’s always good to see a band dress for the occasion, and Augie March were well dressed in their matching dark suits. Bass player Edmondo Ammendola gets extra points for wearing a smart hat, keeping his suit buttoned for the entire show, and sporting one of the most impressive beards seen in recent times.
Predictably opening up with the rockier ‘Just Passing Through’ and following it with heartbroken ‘The Cold Acre’, it soon became apparent that things were not all right on the sound mixing. This problem would be a factor all night, clearly to the annoyance of front man Glenn Richards. While other bands may have wilted under such gremlins, the class of Augie March’s musicianship was able to ride them out.
Richards is a fantastic performer, he seems so laid back in demeanour but put a microphone in front of him and ask him to sing into it, and he transforms into an intense character, so swept up in the music and so beautiful in delivery. David Williams is solid on drums, with an ability to subtly adding momentum when required, and Adam Donovan is under-appreciated on guitar. For mine, Kiernan Box is the surprise packet. He is just fantastic to watch on the keys. It takes a lot to draw attention away from Richards, but for extended periods I found myself enchanted as he worked his fingers across the keyboard.
Another refreshing aspect of the show was how much Augie March cared about what they were doing and the enjoyment of the crowd. There was clear pride in the performance and impeccable attention to detail. This was why the sound mixing problems frustrated the band, and particularly Richards, so much.
The sound mixing also caused one of the strangest moments I’ve ever seen at a gig. The band had left the stage for Richards and his guitar to perform the emotive ‘Bottle Baby’. This is a song that sums up everything that music should do for you. Heartbroken and fragile delivery, it seemed like this was going to be a special moment of the night. The audience held their collective breath as the song approached its poignant climax, the moment where a sorrowful song cuts irreversibly deep into the soul. Then Richards, in between verses, said “oh, you’re fucking kidding me!” This was different; I didn’t remember that being in the lyrics. Was he angry with the audience? Were we not responding to him? Soon after he stopped the song completely and exclaimed “you haven’t heard a single thing have you?” There was then a weird moment between performer and crowd as no one seemed to know what was going on. It soon became clear that the sound problems confused Richards and he thought we couldn’t hear him. Ummm, yes we can, if we couldn’t hear you, one of us I’m sure would have said something. Thanks for ruining the pinnacle of the song Glenn! Yet we couldn’t be angry. This was Richards. This was Augie March. The last few bars of the song were completed but it wasn’t quite the same, which was unfortunate.
The rest of the set was a mixture of old and new. Augie March have a great capability of sliding effortlessly between quiet, moody songs to energetic romps delivered with a tint of anger. ‘This Train Is Not Taking Any Passengers’ left the ears ringing (and probably should have been the encore closer) while ‘There Is No Such Place’ was just magic, particularly with the crowd singing along to every hurtful word. ‘Thin Captain Crackers’, not surprisingly, went down extremely well with the crowd – the mere mention of the song generated one of the loudest cheers of the night and ‘One Crowded Hour’ sounds just as beautiful live as on CD.
The performance had an overall sense of poetry. There was drama, and a sense of cinema. Despite all the sound problems, and despite the fact Augie March didn’t play ‘Stranger Strange’, they were able to show that the elite always rise to the challenge.
