Once pitching for him to be involved in the 'Twin Peaks' reboot, late director David Lynch told The Veils' frontman Finn Andrews at the time: "The way you sing, it's like an exorcism."
There are moments onstage, at Sydney's Oxford Art Factory last Thursday (6 November), where Andrews resembles an old-time preacher, arching his back and calling up the spirits with a strangled yowl, which can abruptly mood-swing to moments of quiet, reflective muses on existence – with the audience often captivated either way.
Contradicting some of the big gestures to follow, things started with little ceremony. Andrews – already in his trademark wide-brim hat and suit – lugging and plugging in his own equipment, the band doing likewise.
Image © Sinan Beytas
A simple nod of satisfaction with the setup, and they exited for just a couple of minutes before strolling on for a more traditional cheered welcome to the stage. "This is the last gig of the tour," is Finn's greeting, sounding half-sad and half-relieved. "It's been nearly a year, but this album has been a nice thing to orbit around."
That album, 'Asphodels', recorded at Neil Finn's Roundhead Studios in this Finn's (and that Finn's) New Zealand homeland, is perhaps the most consistently restrained in their now 20-year catalogue. As often, love and death are the main subject matter – but delivered more as whispered, shared secrets than yelled in your face, as could also be the case in the past.
Reinforcing the point, Andrews informs the audience the first three songs of the set will come from the album in question. 'Mortal Wound', 'The Dream Of Life' and 'O Fortune Teller' are delivered with Finn seated at the piano, but not lacking in emotion or power, particularly when Dave Khan's violin pushes them along.
Image © Sinan Beytas
Three becomes four with 'The Ladder', which adds some Greek mythology and Romantic poetry to the mix; but it's not a case of "we like your old stuff better than your new stuff," – this is mostly a crowd of the faithful who've been along for much of the ride, and are already mouthing-the-words familiar with these songs.
The crowd reaction does kick up further with a sprinkling of songs from the band's second album, 2006's 'Nux Vomica'. Freed from his keyboardist's chair, the singer beseeches as 'Not Yet' gallops like the unrideable horse that's its centrepiece.
An exception maybe proving the rule, the big piano cascades that open 'A Birthday Present' are an almost Springsteen-esque widescreen blast. Those storms passing, Finn relaxes and becomes chatty realising he is among friends.
He has news: "We've actually already made a new record," he informs. "Would you mind if we played you a fresh one from it? It's a gentle little thing." We acquiesce with enthusiasm. 'My Foolish Heart' fits comfortably, although perhaps a little more band-driven than the current model.
Ruefully introduced as "nobody seems to mention this one, but it's really my favourite from this album," leads to 'Concrete After Rain', a song about "just going for a little walk," apparently. 'Nux Vomica''s title track is a thumping end to the set-proper.
Image © Sinan Beytas
"Were we gone long enough?" Andrews questions as he returns to a room still applauding loudly. "I never know if I've given you enough chance to miss us." Family becomes the encore's subject matter, carried out solo: 'The Tide That Left And Never Came Back' was apparently a quote from Andrews' mum as he left home to make his way in the world.
"It's a biopic song moment – you know how June Carter says to Johnny Cash how he better 'Walk The Line' – it was just like that," he jokes. A grey-haired couple embrace and nearly waltz down by the stage-front. Somehow, even that seems just right.
While 'Rings Of Saturn' that follows is a song for his now three-year-old daughter. Khan re-enters, and a crunching and thumping 'Axolotl' – the song David Lynch did eventually get them to perform in that fictional Washington State town with the damn fine cups of coffee – signals the show is done.
More photos from the concert.
