The Whitlams, Old Man River,iOTA @ The Metro Theatre,Sydney (09/11/06)

Sun 10th Dec, 2006 in Gig Reviews

The night quickly become one of differing opinions.

Old Man River had one problem during their set, but unfortunately, it was a big enough problem that it was hard to recover from. Overbearing drums managed to drown out the vocals, annihilating the  harmonies and even threatening to take out what was, during the quiet moments, a driving bass beat. While valiant attempts were made for a recovery, it didn’t really happen. Easy on stage, Ohad Rein has the sort of voice that is, as he proved, capable of making even wolf howls attractive and he interacted fluently with the small crowd, drawing out a vocal warm up and some fun country stomping and clapping action. They did however, overcome the drum problems briefly for their last song, the single Sunshine which fell to a more acoustic beat and broke to a virtually acapella rendition of the chorus, leaving the audience asking the question of whether a solo acoustic performance would have worked better.

While Old Man River captured the audience, Iota was, unfortunately, a poor choice for support. There is no doubt people in the crowd were there for him alone, but the theatrics of his set seemed to confuse the audience. Billed as Iota and The Beauty Queens, this set felt less like a series of rock songs than a production, complete with green stage lighting and Iota himself in the perfect all black rockstar outfit with sunglasses. The band kept the audience at bay, with a series of rather dirty, gritty songs that stumbled out in what has to be one of the best voices I’ve heard. While not a traditional voice, Iota’s control and willingness to experiment with his vocals were the high point of the set, particularly towards the end. The second last song fell to pieces in the most perfect way, the sunglasses were removed and Come Back For Me spoke of a love lost, the vulnerability showing in a voice that had previously only demonstrated strength. Everything about this band was good, the energy and spectacle worked (except for some rather annoying lights that pulsed with the bass) and as what appeared to be a showcase for the new album, those who loved it, loved it.

That is, however, not to say that everyone did. Parts of the crowd seemed confused by the distance of the band on stage, appeared to not know how to take what was in front of them and while this seemed to shift somewhat with Come Back For Me, the last song had Iota’s sunglasses back on, the rockstar persona back and the same problems. For me though, the last song acted as a coda, trying to build back the character that had been torn down by the music and the anger in the instrumentation meant the set ended on a different note, perhaps even one you had to think about.

As for the Whitlams, I will confess, I felt like the only person who wasn’t getting a very good joke. Screams for the band started before the curtains opened, the only people who were more enthused than the band to be there was the crowd and within a song, there was dancing and back up harmonies from most of them. The band were tight, moving between songs with an ease that I always assume only comes from a lot of touring and while there were initial problems with the sound, the mix settled to a happy medium and particular kudos must go out to Warwick Hornby on bass, who always pushed the songs forward. Tim Freedman’s voice was almost perfect, he knew to the second when to extend songs and when to cut them short. But-

I personally, didn’t like a second of it. The songs were, in my mind, over arranged to the point they sounded glossy, with the guitar and bass and piano acting to distract from the lyrics and even at times, the melody itself. For me, it killed the sense of the songs, it broke any emotional connection and it was disappointing to hear what I think is one of the most twisted love songs of all times (No Aphrodisiac) sound so flat. Freedman’s on stage banter was not particularly funny, often mean spirited and while I found myself enjoying his solo song 12 Hours, his decision to stop halfway through and complain about the people talking, broke the moment. Blow Up The Pokies almost grabbed me as the melancholic song that it is recorded, but by the time I had been shown what the band could achieve (the sometimes funny, always twisted and breaking lyrics, sung by a man who has an amazing capacity to understand his own voice) I was bored and didn’t want to know.

I was however, the only person who thought this, so let’s chalk it up to me.