Although it may have been the band’s musical origins that initially drew my interest (uniting members from notable groups including The Jungle Giants, The Moses Collective and The Belligerents), their quirky alter-egos in Confidence Man have since completely stolen the limelight.
The Triffid (a rare choice for electronic acts) asserted its versatility, hosting the Brisbane leg of their Ring’a Ding Ding tour on Friday, 17 November. Crowds turned out in sheers, sparkles and satins, bold and bright attire mirroring the band’s brash presence.
Confidence Man kept the audience on its toes, bouncy instrumentals warming the empty stage. Faceless identities Reggie Goodchild and Clarence McGuffie eventually entered, soon followed by ring-in Hanz Spritz. The three weaved in live drum beats and keyboard, fully masked and bodies draped totally in black.
Vocalists Janet Planet and Sugar Bones sparked an excited uproar as they sauntered in; the pair instantly dived into their renowned dance routine, effortlessly mirroring each other’s moves without a sidewards glance.
All flirty and frivolous, ‘Bubblegum’ was light-hearted and fun, “ooh-EE!”’s an infectious crowd favourite, chanted in soprano inflections.
Discography dark horse ‘Fascination’ followed, an apparent mystery among the band’s releases but stood strong amidst their better-known singles. Janet Planet and Sugar Bones dipped their mic stands in sync, a surprisingly visually effective move, albeit simple.
In true Confidence Man form, raunchy lyrics pierced the room, another unknown track making its mark with strings of cheeky sentences. “I’ll go all the way with you, you go all the way with me, we’ll go all the way together.”
But vocals next took a backseat, singers exiting the stage entirely; Reggie, Clarence and Hanz blasted a brilliantly produced set of bangers that unexpectedly ventured from the boppy realms of dance-pop to the heavier borders of house.
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Janet Planet and Sugar Bones resurfaced, flaunting an outfit change plus their staple sass and swagger. And with the new threads came an unfathomable energy boost, the two raised the bar, boasting infinite stamina while driving home three more tracks (including newby ‘Better Sit Down Boy’) far beyond basic electronics; these were full-blown dance ballads.
Although the dark room and band’s prompt exit could have been interpreted as the budding beginnings of a predictable encore, the periodic flashing of stage lights alternatively built tension and anticipation, eliminating the age-old question “will they return?” and replacing it with “when will they return?” instead.
By the time the familiar introduction of ‘Boyfriend (Repeat)’ began the audience was well and truly primed; it was madness, a rare moment of absolute elation and total absorption in the song, the entire room even kneeling to the floor to better build to the drop, Janet Planet’s demand to “Get down!” the catalyst of one last chaotic dance frenzy.
I’ll admit, at an unprompted point in the middle of the set, I did think to myself, “Is this utterly ridiculous?” Sugar Bones was topless and dancing in his underwear, Janet Planet’s stony expression was unwavering.
But in the end, that only proved to be a mere flicker of doubt; there’s no denying the brilliance of Confidence Man’s concept. The band has developed a strong formula, one that keeps their music fresh, catchy, captivating and ceaselessly entertaining, filling dance floors across the country all while lyrically tying in underlying themes of independence, empowerment, and, as the name suggests, self-confidence.
I presume many are aware of the backlash the group received when dubbed ‘the best up-and-coming band in Australia’. Big call, no doubt, but one that does have backing when considering elements in the industry other than basic musicianship.
Confidence Man aren’t striving to excel in instrumental skill or emotional depth, though they still encompass many admirable qualities. The group has cleverly delved into an untapped market nobody knew we needed, filling the gaping hole with costumes, mysterious pseudonyms, sarcasm and corny choreography.
It’s ironic – despite their stage personas, they couldn’t possibly take themselves less seriously, but on that dance floor, I’ve never been more inclined to cut so many serious shapes.
