Live Review: London Grammar, Wet, Until The Ribbon Breaks

18 March 2015 | 9:42 am | Bryget Chrisfield

The British trio perform an emotional, wholesome show and leave the crowd aching for more.

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Bouncers ask punters to lift up their caps to prove there’s nothing stashed underneath before entry is granted. 

Until The Ribbon Breaks are a Cardiff trio, which utilises three pairs of drum sticks, with a sound that references hip hop. The outfit’s sample-based second song, Perspective, is an earworm. Frontman Peter Lawrie Winfield also plays trumpet. They really should introduce themselves at this point. A punter reads our minds and yells out, “What’s your name?” But the band’s (highly unusual) name isn’t acknowledged until the intro into their closer. UTRB are a bit Alt-J and definitely worth a post-show Google.

Wet kind of creep on stage and then make us wanna have a snooze in comparison to what we’ve just experienced. And frontlady Kelly Zutrau does herself no favours with that all-black ensemble of baggy top and neither-loose-nor-tight pants, which would fit right in at Highpoint Hoyts. You can actually hear the punters talking among themselves and there’s a single, blinding blue light that shines directly into the audience’s eyes, blinding us. Zutrau has a pretty voice, but tends to push it too hard and this Brooklyn threesome is outshone by their predecessors tonight. 

At 10.23pm (almost half an hour after the advertised starting time), London Grammar materialise, one by one, backlit on a smoke-filled stage. Genius visuals enable skyscrapers to spring up in fast-motion behind the trio during Hey Now and the wow-factor is established immediately. Singer Hannah Reid is dressed for a roller disco in figure-hugging high-waisted blue jeans, high-necked long-sleeved white cropped top (about a centimetre of midriff flesh is exposed) and sneakers, her bright blonde tresses pulled back into a high ponytail. She switches to keys while Dominic Major (who resembles an edgier Harry Styles) provides drum accompaniment. And then a string quartet is illuminated on raised rostra behind them.

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Reid acknowledges Australia as a “territory of support” and thanks us for coming back after last year’s cancelled Splendour In The Grass and sideshow appearances. Her voice is so emotional, an instrument of perfection. Wasting My Young Years, the unsettling Flickers – just when we think they’ve peaked London Grammar trump themselves, not only through song but also visuals and intricate lighting design. Major touchingly says the last two years touring with both of his bandmates have been the best of his life to date because they’re such “beautiful, intelligent people”. London Grammar really do come across as wholesome types. Reid announces Strong is supposed to be their last song (hint, hint) and encourages us to sing along, holding the mic out at regular intervals to check on our voices; we really just wanna delight in her pipes, though.

London Grammar leave the stage but the string section stays put, which is a dead giveaway. The crowd stamp their feet so insistently there’s concern for the floor boards. And they’re back! Reid intros closer Metal & Dust as our only chance to dance within her band’s set and we fully take in the wonderment of this evening’s entertainment on the final night of London Grammar’s two-year global tour. They’re certainly not Wasting [Their] Young Years. And the string quartet plays us out of the venue – a classy finishing touch.