Live Review: Mineral, Garrett Klahn, Arrows

Even for a Sunday, Brisbane-bred outfit Arrows are contending with an early time slot on The Brightside’s stage. If not for the thin crowd (which swiftly blows out to a filled room), though, you’d never know it; their commanding presence does much to recommend their abilities as refined purveyors of emotive post-rock and, as they navigate their set, it’s clear why the band stand out as one of Australia’s premier – if few – mainstay acts in the scene, having made such headway as to even have released a split with US revivalists Empire! Empire! (I Was A Lonely Estate). Watching their polished performance tonight, the reasons for their success are obvious, but raise the question: why haven’t we heard more about this band?

A lone, hatted figure is next to appear, his humble drawl giving him away as being revered troubadour Garrett Klahn, best known for his work with ‘90s cult icons Texas Is The Reason. Klahn is all affability and home-spun charm as he delivers a set of man-‘n’-guitar acoustic treats, the crowd utterly in thrall to his every strum; to every word. The respectful hush that blankets the crowd as Klahn tunes between songs speaks volumes, and we all share in his disappointment as he tells us an Australian airline was responsible for the destruction of his beloved guitar ‘Patsy’. “I gotta get something off my chest,” he says, before pointing to a guitar sitting on stage like a framed picture at a funeral. He dedicates his next song, Texas Is The Reason’s Johnny On The Spot, to his departed “baby”. Klahn actually treats his audience to a few Texas Is The Reason gems – When Rock’n’Roll Was Just A Baby, If That Thing Is Still There When We Get Back, It’s Ours – and precedes them with amusing and engaging back story, his banter the lubricant in this respectful and restrained, yet warm and appreciative exchange. In a set that even includes a Smiths cover (Jean) and a heartbeat stomp-along, which drives closer Back And To The Left, from the outset, Klahn captures our attention, and he never lets it go.

By the time the evening’s raison d’etre, Austin-bred emo heroes Mineral, hit the stage, the bubbling excitement is palpable; this is a band who likely soundtracked much of the audience’s mid-to-late adolescence, and who had broken up well before their far-flung fans had a chance to see them perform. Thus, the silence that emerges here – in stark contrast to Klahn’s – is one of awkward expectation, as a room of adults regress to their 15-year-old selves, staring up in hushed awe at these kings of heartbreak and meek romance. Frontman Chris Simpson steps forward. “Hi, everybody! Thanks for coming to see Mineral in Brisbane, Australia!” Silence. He shrugs. The guitar arpeggios of Five, Eight & Ten begin. The room cheers, then, remembering the song begins quietly, shuts up. When the song initially drops its pretense, exploding in a cacophony of distortion and wailed vocals – the first of many such aural infernos to come tonight – the crowd loses its starch, heaving and swaying in a mass along with every crash and screech and plea and whisper, singing when it’s needed, and moving, enraptured, when it’s not.  The high-energy Gloria immediately follows, the rawness and energy of its recorded iteration on 1997’s The Power Of Failing more than translating with style in the live setting. Simpson pauses to take his jacket off in the heat, while someone yells from the crowd, “SOUNDING GOOD!” – to which Simpson offers a polite, “Oh, thanks!”

If there is one criticism that could be offered, it would be levelled at the crowd – there should be no place for needless heckling at a show such as this. A veteran band, internationally respected, giving their all in a truly exceptional performance, should not be subjected to questions like “Why are you taking so long?” between songs when everyone in the band is clearly just retuning their instruments. And, anyway, if you were unaware that guitars could – and sometimes need to – be retuned, you probably shouldn’t be at a Mineral show in the first place.

Aside from the few vocal yobs in the crowd, however, it’s difficult to fault the Texan four-piece – the spectrum of sounds and dynamics they make with simply two guitars, a bass, a drum kit and exceedingly limited effects should make latter-day gadget-peddlers hang their heads in shame; from the ethereal false builds and hypnotic minutes-long snare roll-driven outro crescendo of February to the slow-burn relief of beloved cut Unfinished, the relentless highlights – Slower, For Ivadel, ALetter, non-encore closer &Serenading – and the way they link dual encores LoveLetterTypeWriter and Palisade utterly seamlessly before generously dropping a third farewell in the form of fan favourite Parking Lot, Mineral have proven beyond all doubt tonight that, even 20 years after they first pinned their hearts to their sleeves and stepped in front of a crowd, they’re still one of the most earnest, accomplished and exciting acts to have come out of the mid-‘90s. We witnessed something special tonight, and even the bogans must recognise that.