Live Review: Gotye, Bertie Blackman & PVT

Three Grammy nominations, four ARIAs, 350 million YouTube views and a huge crowd more interested in the coffee stand than the bar – this certainly is one hell of a homecoming for Gotye (aka Wally De Backer). He couldn't possibly be any humbler about it though, especially as he takes the time to thank stellar supports PVT (who justify a bourgeoning reputation for forward-thinking industrial pop) and Bertie Blackman (resplendent in purple pants and armed with hooks galore). Gotye opens tonight with a spot-on version The Only Way from Like Drawing Blood – a winding, Eastern-influenced tune that shows off his nine-piece backing band toting horns, woodwind, all sorts of sampling paraphernalia and, in one case, a fairly suss rats tail. The track ends, like many of tonight's numbers, with De Backer pounding the living shit out a drum kit placed at the back of the stage.

For all the down to earthiness, there's also a bit of push and pull going on here. For the most part Gotye seems happy to take in the adulation of the massive crowd, but there are times, such as during a hushed middle section featuring stunning Making Mirrors closer Bronte, that he must long for the lost days of an attentive, sold-out Corner Hotel. The frustration is writ large as he actually goes so far as to politely chastise us for chatting in the quieter moments, preaching gig etiquette to an ironically huge cheer – the sound of thousands of people hand-balling the blame to the bloke next to them. This leads directly into an oddly reserved version of Somebody That I Used To Know – an unprepared Blackman leading the predictably ecstatic singalong. A great song it may be, but when stacked up against the sheer imagination and musical virtuosity displayed on tracks such as Hearts A Mess (goosebumps all 'round), it actually feels like a bit of a dud.

All is forgiven though, when an expedited encore heralds two joyous Motown moments in I Feel Better and Learnalilgivinanlovin. All that coffee seems to be kicking in as the crowd spills into the aisles and pounds the grass, De Backer haring about the stage with trusty drumsticks, seemingly hitting things at random and producing perfectly placed instrumental blasts. His voice, so often the jewel in his varied crowd, shifts into overdrive and cranks up as he again pummels his poor kit into submission. Before you know it, he's humbly bowing to the crowd who beam wildly back at him, safe in the knowledge that our musical export industry is in the capable hands of this quirky, peerless wizard.