Sydney Harbour is swarming for Vivid's opening weekend and it takes a pickpocket sleight of hand to wind a way through to the Opera House where the 25th anniversary of Spunk Records is kicking off its showcase.
The evening (24 May) begins with founder Aaron Curnow sharing about the origins of Spunk and providing some humorous anecdotes. "I felt like the winger for the Cessnock Goannas, who's having a great season," he smiles, remembering the good times.The Middle East take the stage to burst into the night sky like the light show outside. "It's nice to play for such memorable hobbits," Jordan Ireland shares. The band doesn't have a frontman as such, more multiple members who intersect the limelight.
They begin with swirling red smoke drifting from back of stage, shifting into purple as it edges toward the front row. It is a booming and slow number, the two male vocalists blending together like the smoke surrounding them. It is perfectly smooth.
All four vocalists begin the second song before Bree Tranter takes her first vocal solo. Her voice stuns like sunlight shining unexpectedly into your eyes, instantly slicing through the darkness. The song lulls and sways like a walk through your mum's garden, as peace settles down upon you.
'Months' takes you on a ride, elegantly fading out like a sweet strawberry at the end of your stroll. "The bees are making honey just for you," the band sing next, moving together in perfect harmony. The tom drums roll through the countryside like thunder on the hills, before the song drops right down to a tinkly piano ending.
Tranter takes another song, stopping midway to take up her flute. She summons you like a forest faun, before returning to her mesmerising singing. The funky groove carries you away and the song ends.
'Blood' proves a sentimental journey through plucking guitar strings and pulsing hi-hats. Yellow beams shoot down against a red backdrop that somehow stimulates your fight response.
The set culminates in a blast of sound, cymbals ringing through the air before settling into the now familiar pumping toms. One guitarist pulses through a syncopated country-esque solo with psychotic whammying. You certainly feel that you have been on a transformative journey.
Next up is Aldous Harding. She enters dressed all in black and looks out expectantly at the crowd. She waits for the late comers to find their seats, before commencing, a guitar strewn across her lap.
"Closer to me," she sings, "rolling, rolling free," and you are captivated. The guitar, despite obvious picking, is almost nonexistent, an aggressive strum interjects now and then. However, Harding's voice is more than enough. "I have time for you now," she states. The song is enchanting as she swings her leg childishly.
Another instrumentalist enters and begins playing the piano. "One second," she stops to adjust her microphone. "Diva," Harding jokes in a nice moment of lightness. She sings 'Fever', gesturing and pointing fervently. Aldous is acting as she performs, absorbing the character completely.
She leans back in her chair, arms crossed as a piano solo plays, before exclaiming "oh yeah". Harding seemingly transforms character throughout the song, you have to keep up. Her voice continually shines, balanced and evocative. The final notes of the piano ring out in a memorable melody.
Harding joins at the piano, playing a foreboding melody. "When I started out, I had much more than I have now," she sings sadly from 'She'll Be Coming Round The Mountain'. Three white lights beam down through the darkness.
She finishes with fan favourite 'Horizon', spasming and ticking throughout as if conjoining with some other worldly spirit. The short set leaves you with the sense you will not fully process what you have seen for some time. Powerful and provocative, Harding's performance is simply indescribable.
Explosions In The Sky crown the evening's performances, commencing 'First Breath After Coma' with single ringing guitar notes and an ominous, thudding kick drum. Other guitars enter to provide some hope as the stage fills violently with smoke.
The snare hits with aggressive accents before the band drop out completely, only to return with more vigour as an expansive worldview unfolds before you. The band live entirely within the moment, and the transitions between lows and crashing highs are somehow without jarring sensation.
They create a wall of sound as the front three axe players kneel down. The song fades to a mechanical alarm. It is, to say the least, mesmerising.
'The Only Moment We Were Alone' begins with ear-cracking kicks that shake your brain. It is decidedly warmer, the guitar trills spouting promises of a new tomorrow. The guitarists sway as one, their worlds colliding as time suspends.
The set moves through its winding wayfaring, some low moments crack with intensity, some screaming highs are somehow where peace is felt most. It is another heck of a ride.
Pouring out to the post-gig, alien world of the harbour-side crowds, the wind bites your face with a smack of reality. You feel as though you have moved through innumerable worlds, and you know without a shred of doubt a different you has emerged on the other side.
Spunk Records has curated a true experience, and for that and the last 25 years of doing so, we thank them.
