I didn’t recognise the first, unadvertised name on the run sheet, but walk through the door to a familiar face on stage.
It’s Rivah, Carol Lloyd Award finalist Bec Laughton’s new incarnation, opening the show at Solbar (7 April).
She’s already toured the United States as Rivah, but it’s her first solo gig under the moniker, standing alone with a couple of gadgets, two mics and some catchy tunes, cooing “you don’t need to worry ‘bout a thing”.
“You guys are so encouraging, I’m just making music and you’re giving me all this love.”
Next on stage is a confident young girl singing in full Australian accent. Somehow she looks Australian too, like a visual fusion of some of our singers and actresses. Then I realise it’s because she looks like a young, diminutive Rose Byrne, her blonde-with-heavy-regrowth hair up in two buns reminiscent of the ‘Two Hands’ character.
This Melbourne two-piece, Saatsuma, consisting of frontwoman Memphis LK and Cesar Rodrigues utilises two mics for Memphis, tweakable vocals effects pad, a huge synth and a little one, both occupied with music creation in one way or another throughout the performance.
I feel like these songs are actually pop-folk ballads dressed up as ambient and eclectic electronica. It challenges my presupposition about the recipe for an electro-pop song – because this clearly works.
Memphis explains it is the last show of the six-week tour with Willow Beats. They mostly play tracks from their 2017 album ‘Overflow’, which also got pressed to vinyl.
Saatsuma ends the set with their ‘apocalyptic tundra’. I see what they mean sonically, but also it is a bit cold in the room.
We fetch our hoodies and it feels ceremonious when, as we return through the double doors, Willow Beats begin.
Main vocalist and niece of the uncle-niece duo, Kalyani pays extended respects to First Nations People past, present and in attendance.
Native flowers adorn the mic stands; I think they’re a bit distracting but I’m purist like that and they do kinda match Kalyani’s floaty two-piece attire and magical undulations she does with her voice, in between giving us the spider-bite stories behind the songs.
Personally, I’m relieved to hear the first guitar of the show, courtesy of Narayana, even when it’s used only for its percussive, repeater-effects capacity; he sings a song he wrote called ‘There Is Great Power In You’. It’s a power his niece is about to require.
Kalyani again invites us into her sphere conversationally, this time concerning climate change, and asks for people to listen intently. She begins to look irritated at the chatter in the crowd, but pushes on through her solo performance on keyboard.
Her voice is great, a challenge under any distress. The crowd’s voices are indeed louder than hers at times and she lets them know.
This is the final performance of the ten-show national tour. They’re tired and a little respect is not too much to ask for. It is a little unusual that a higher-energy act is put before the headliner, but I wonder why people bought tickets just to disregard what’s on stage.
During ‘Special’, some rude individual hurls a drink at Kalyani and they stop the music. She notifies ignorant punters that “performers are people… this is our job”.
“This might be a place for you to come and get ****ed up, but it’s our workplace.”
After a fight breaks out later in the same song, and the music stops again, Willow Beats finish the song and thus the set. Kalyani leaves with respectful, nurturing advice, from the heart of a person who has people close to her for who alcohol is no positive thing – please consider whether alcohol is damaging you or your behaviour. That’s pretty much why I quit.
Tough gig, but Willow Beats demonstrated a stack of resilience, perseverance and skill in maintaining execution of the songs. Can someone spell solidarity?
