Live Review: Holly Throsby, Body Type

20 March 2017 | 3:18 pm | Mick Radojkovic

"We were treated to the delightful news that [Marcus Whale] provided the sperm for her newborn!"

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"Sunday shows are nice," said Body Type's lead singer and guitarist as the local quartet started their set in shoegaze mode. It was a suitable vibe for an early Sunday night. A peruse of the local gig guide will present evidence of how often Body Type have been playing and this hard work was exhibited in their live show. Despite the slow start, the gear was pushed forward throughout the set and reached a glorious crescendo of tight, lo-fi indie rock. They were as delightful as they were talented. Catch them somewhere soon. 

Sometimes good things come to those who wait, and we'd been waiting to hear new music from Holly Throsby for some time. She even named her album After A Time in recognition of this fact. Not that she's been lazy. Giving birth and writing a debut novel is probably the best excuse you'll ever hear.

Throsby and her remarkable band took to the stage nonchalantly and we were treated to a trio of new tracks. Straight away, we were transported to the settings that she created. Her pure and warm voice evoked gardens, mountains and aeroplanes and we happily go along for the ride.

The gorgeous Marcus Whale was invited to the stage to play saxophone and we were treated to the delightful news that he provided the sperm for her newborn! (The sperm whale joke is too obvious.) The guests didn't stop there, however, and we were treated to a surprise appearance from Jack Ladder, singing Mark Kozelek's lines on What Do You Say? Despite reading lyrics from notes, it was a match made in heaven.

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Throsby's banter was wonderful, as was her ability to write a song. Creating a scene, transporting it to us and unwrapping it on stage in front of us is an enviable skill and she performed it beautifully. Before Making A Fire, Throsby said she was "working on encores". We clapped loud enough and Throsby returned to play Things Between People. All we could do then was take a piece of Throsby home with us courtesy of her book.