Live Review: James Blake, Oliver Tank

6 August 2013 | 1:53 pm | Josh Ramselaar

The show ends with Blake hunched over a keyboard, only a single light illuminating him and every person in the room hanging onto every word and note before erupting into a standing ovation for this brilliant show.

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Sydney artist Oliver Tank opens the show tonight, with a quick half-hour set. His voice is layered for nearly every song, lending it a breathy, almost choral sound. To accompany his voice, he plays a guitar laden with effect and uses a sample pad to play a mix of tribal-sounding percussion and bass notes. His songs tend to ooze out as his lyrics repeat to the point of becoming more like mantras for meditation. That's not to say that he sends anyone to sleep – at the end of his set he's treated to rapturous applause.

On his first ever Australian tour, James Blake played two sold-out shows at The Prince. Now, just two years later, he's playing just a short walk down the road at the Palais to a crowd three times the size. The UK singer's popularity has grown immensely over the last two years and it's wonderful to see him playing in such a beautiful venue so suited to his music. Blake opens with two older songs, Air & Lack Thereof and I Never Learnt To Share, immediately getting the crowd on side. The latter especially coaxes cheers as soon as Blake sings the first line and a few more adventurous audience members attempt to sing along with his fluttering voice. Blake's bandmates have much more pronounced roles in this live setting as different parts of the instrumentation come into focus. As they play an extended version of CMYK, drummer Ben Assiter drives the quicker latter half, expertly playing both a sample pad and (most of) a regular kit. Guitarist Rob McAndrews adds some slide notes and washes of distortion to Lindisfarne I, perfectly accompanying Blake's wistful lyrics. Voyeur proves to be the standout of the show, practically turning the Palais into a nightclub with the thumping bass and menacing keys accompanied by flashing green lights as the song gets fleshed out and extended.

The finale and encore that follow pale in comparison but Blake saves the best for last, finishing solo, with a cover of Joni Mitchell's A Case Of You. The show ends with Blake hunched over a keyboard, only a single light illuminating him and every person in the room hanging onto every word and note before erupting into a standing ovation for this brilliant show.