Date: August 23, 2009
Venue: The Zoo, Brisbane
Acts: The Lucksmiths, Darren Hanlon
I’m always amused at the wary alertness hovering in Darren Hanlon’s eyes when he first takes the stage. It’s as though he’s fearful one of his enthusiastic fans might take their adoration too far and tackle-hug him as he’s playing, say, The Kickstand Song.
Tonight, (like just about every night, I imagine) the worst his exquisitely polite audience inflicts is the inevitable request for Danielle. A request followed by the equally inevitable response “not in this lifetime”. Danielle aside, he’s chattily open to requests, and with the backing of drummer Bree Van Reyk, quickly works through an all-too-short set that includes the ever-loved Happiness Is A Chemical, Electric Skeleton, Eli Wallach, The Unmade Bed and a lovely closing cover of Fizcher-Z’s The Perfect Day.
Tonight it’s former Candle Records stablemates The Lucksmiths who are the stars. Like the late and much-missed label itself, the band is finally hanging up boots after 16 years of charming audiences everywhere with their beautiful, infectious indie-pop.
It’s a performance that’s more a celebration than a wake. Tali White — front and centre behind his snares and cymbals — sports a broad grin and smiling eyes. Obviously having the time of their lives, the four band members work through some 28 songs spanning 1993’s First Tape to 2008’s First Frost, and a willing crowd responds joyously — singing and dancing along to favourites such as Jewel Theives, Frisbee, The Chapter In Your Life Entitled San Francisco, A Downside To The Upstairs and many, many more.
Clocking in at two-plus hours, the the almost-relentless jangly guitars start to chafe in the home stretch. By the same token, fond memories from Candle Records showcases and Livid performances mean I’m reluctant to miss a moment. I count it personal serendipty when the band drops in T-Shirt Weather just a few songs from the end. It proves the perfect pick-me up. The crowd voicing on the chorus indicates I’m not the only one who holds it in high esteem.
Still, even The Lucksmiths can’t disguise this is it — as White, Monnone, Richter and Donald take their final bows and stride off-stage at the conclusion of The Music From Next Door, there’s more than a touch of sadness that we’ll never enjoy their effortless pop again.