Live Review: Conor Oberst, The Felice Brothers

The Melbourne Zoo makes the perfect spot for a warm, Saturday afternoon picnic.

Gourmet hampers, picnic rugs and children are crammed into the grassy swathe in front of the stage. Everyone is seated, snacking and chatting as unidentified animals scream out at random intervals and a duck in search of grass to eat even wanders between our ankles while we wait in the bar line.

The Felice Brothers take the stage after an introduction by a faceless announcer who is brought to a spluttering stop when they swallow a fly. Their country-folk tracks are relaxed and pleasant for the subdued audience who are probably usually in bed by 11pm on a Saturday night. The sound during this set is disappointing, however; the levels too low and the mix all out of whack, it’s impossible to say if anyone hears a single note of the violin. Wonderful Life sees Conor Oberst join The Felice Brothers on stage to sing the second verse. His unannounced addition momentarily brings the audience out of their wine- and cheese-induced stupor. Saint Stephen’s End and final song of the set Penn Station are well received.

After an advertisement about bandicoot preservation, which is very much aimed at the section of the public that responds to sound bites such as “the foxes thought that [the bandicoots] were a very tasty treat”, Conor Oberst is joined by The Felice Brothers who take on the role of his backing band. The sound levels improve with Oberst onstage and he opens with Time Forgot from his most recent album Upside Down Mountain. Four Winds plays next and we see ominous lightning toward to the west and darker clouds passing overhead. Throughout the set, each lighting strike elicits a louder reaction from the crowd. Oberst plays varied songs from his extensive back catalogue such as Well Whisky (from Lua) and Ten Women (from Conor Oberst & The Mystic Valley Band’s album Outer South). He’s an engaging performer and the levels are set so that you don’t miss a single lyric.

It’s just before Southern State that everyone realises being at an open-air concert is probably not the best place to be sitting during a thunder storm. After this track, Oberst gets word to call off the gig. He simply and apologetically tells the disappointed crowd, “On tour, we wait around all day to play. Playing is our favourite thing to do”. With that, everyone packs up and promptly gets smashed by a downpour that sees rain coming down near-horizontally. Some make it to the station, or their cars, or simply brave the rain, but the stragglers end up trapped under the cover of the front entrance only to be kicked out by security at the first lull in the storm.