Live Review: Neutral Milk Hotel, M. Ward, Superchunk

It's a strange bill tonight for many reasons. Formed from the remnants of the cancelled Harvest Festival bill, the main thing tying these bands together is their US passports and the fact that they all release music on Merge Records, the indie behemoth started by Superchunk members Mac McCaughan and Laura Ballance to release their own music before morphing into the beast that it is today.

Which probably explains why the indie legends are on first tonight, despite being the most prolific and oldest act on the bill, plus the band whose frenetic rock'n'roll is probably best suited to following rather than preceding the relatively mellow fare of tonight's other acts. The fact that this is their first show on Australian soil since 1996 (not including last night's intimate and awesome acoustic instore) means that even though they start at the ungodly time of 7pm there's a large and enthusiastic crowd before them as they power into Cast Iron like they've never been away.

Ballance – the band's founding bassist – hasn't been able to complete any of the tour duties for Superchunk's recent I Hate Music opus due to hearing issues, replaced on the live front by four-string exponent Jason Narducy (last in Australia teaming with Superchunk drummer Jon Wurster as the rhythm section for Bob Mould's solo project), so it's strange seeing them in a configuration of all dudes, but it doesn't impact the sound or energy one jot, frontman Mac bouncing around like a teen during effervescent new numbers FOH and Me & You & Jackie Mittoo.

They throw in older tracks such as For Tension and Skip Steps 1 & 3, Mac introducing newer number Out Of The Sun with a wry, “this song's about baseball and death, but you guys can think of it as about cricket and death” before the night's first highlight proper comes when they segue the evergreen Driveway To Driveway into the equally awesome The First Part (both pivotal tracks from 1994's Foolish), these chestnuts having lost none of their vitality in the near two decades since their inception.

They smash the punchy Digging For Something before finishing a generously-lengthed (it's good to own the label sometimes) and incendiary opening set with the killer one-two punch of their first ever single Slack Motherfucker – still incredibly powerful 24 years on – and perhaps their catchiest song of all, Hyper Enough, leaving a swelling crowd of ecstatic punters in their wake.

It's a somewhat strange transition when the understated M Ward emerges a while later with his laidback country-folk ensemble and drifts into the understated Poison Cup, but it's neither uncomfortable or jarring – just a bit odd in pace – and after a few numbers things feels totally natural once more.  

The husky-voiced Ward is a quietly charismatic performer and commands attention, even if the smooth indie of tracks like Primitive Girl and I Get Ideas verge on the nondescript in places. The hook-ridden Fool Says lifts the mood as does the catchy Vincent O'Brien, Ward gets his croon on for near-ballad Lullaby & Exile, which smoulders amidst a gorgeous band arrangement, before the cruisy Outta My Head gets toes tapping and heads nodding once more. To Save Me brings a faux-Beach Boys vibe to proceedings, before Fuel For Fire and Never Had Nobody Like You lead into a rocking cover of Daniel Johnston's To Go Home to close off a solid and well-received set.

By the time the lights dim to welcome Neutral Milk Hotel onto the stage for their first ever performance on Australian soil anticipation is at fever pitch, no doubt fuelled by the mystery and enigma surrounding the band's creative heartbeat Jeff Mangum, who for all intents and purposes disappeared from the face of the earth when critical acclaim started pouring in for the band's second album In The Aeroplane Over The Sea way back in 1998, only resurfacing a few years ago to usher in this remarkable second career phase.

With relatively few photos of the band in existence and photographers not allowed to shoot the headliners tonight, the first surprise is Mangum's appearance – hirsute doesn't even begin to describe it, looking for all the world like a cross between Rick Rubin and Teen Wolf with a massive beard and army-green truckers cap masking his visage and hiding his eyes from all but the closest of rows – but as soon as he opens his mouth to sing the opening bars of The King Of Carrot Flowers Pt 1 and that voice drips out there's no doubt whose presence we're in, and the crowd sings along faithfully en masse, perfectly mimicking every nuance and intonation of this most perfect opening gambit.

Indeed the utter devotion of the NMH disciples is quite staggering – there are people in attendance who seem to be experiencing a near religious epiphany – as is the music emitted from this five-piece ragtag band of gypsies, the production incredible and adding new layers of pomp and gravitas to these already emotion-charged compositions. Mangum's inimitable voice soars during the song's finale and hits even the highest notes perfectly, any fears of inhibition or stage-fright thus allayed early on.

The crowd chant the “I love you Jesus Christ” refrain of …Carrot Flowers Pts 2 & 3 back at the stage with absolute love and conviction, and it's incredible to hear this all brought to life with such passion – just the fact that Mangum's finally here and singing these songs in Australia has many seemingly awestruck, especially when he pulls out tracks like the rousing Holland, 1945, A Baby For Pree and upbeat early fave Everything Is. The songs twist and turns like eels, each section as compelling as it is eclectic, and the band's instrumentation is equally esoteric – an instrument which may well be a French horn prominent in parts (this writer's knowledge of the brass family long ago consigned to the historical) – as the humble members swap roles and the limelight with nonchalant ease.

When the band exits the fray and Mangum offers a solo rendition of the pain-ridden Two-Headed Boy it's gobsmacking – like the epicentre of a storm but evoking sadness rather than calm – and the room is enthralled; you can almost see people trying to work out why this amazing talent would have had so many doubts and kept himself out of the spotlight for so long when he clearly has so much to share and offer, and when the horn bursts from the darkness towards the song's climax it's again a quasi-religious moment that has people stunned by its intensity.

When the band is in flight there's as much emotion being coaxed from the melancholy instrumentation as there is from the immaculate lyrics – you could not possibly recreate the community permeating through the stately room as the crowd joins in on a mass rendition of the titular In The Aeroplane Over The Sea – before they continue with the accomplished Ferris Wheel On Fire which ushers in a moment of respite. The band conjure disparate moods at times reminiscent of homegrown outfits like Dirty Three or The Bad Seeds but are clearly beholden to no one, the solemn Naomi building and building into a raucous climax before once more Mangum is left on his lonesome to deliver an otherworldly rendition of the magnificent Oh Comely – you almost feel cheated as the layers of enigma are peeled away, but become content once more as they're replaced with an unparalleled sense of poignancy and depth, gravitas and grit combining to bring an unbridled realism to proceedings.

The rustic and fractured Song Against Sex leads into older tracks Ruby Bulbs and Snow Song Part 1, and then the set is over and the room is baying for more, some punters seeming flummoxed by what they've just been witness to but everyone desperate for more. In a completely devastating final move NMH return and run through the final moments of …Over The Sea; Ghost snakes and meanders and then explodes into a stomping party instrumental section before spiralling back down to more quiet realms as the swirling and devastating Two-Headed Boy Pt 2 leads into non-album track Engine and then the incredible night is over.

No one leaves immediately, people run around excitedly as if to confirm via friends that what they just experienced was as special as it seemed – this is a night of seriously rare musical import on numerous levels – and consensus seems to be that, yes, we weren't mistaken, this complete experience was indeed next level. It's unlikely that we'll see a bill as resolutely excellent as this for a long while – it's almost enough to assuage the sadness that there won't be a Harvest Festival this coming weekend as we originally had pencilled in our diaries...