Live Review: TV On The Radio, Kirin J Callinan

Unable to decide which Kirin J Callinan money shot to take home from the merch stand, we instead settle on the genuine article — entering the main room to find the chameleon Sydneysider crooning and writhing like a cat on heat. Things get frightening almost immediately; Embracism and Come On USA are sharp off the tongue and troubling to the soul. He’s a funny cunt though, ol’ Callinan, winning the room over with his coy volatility. He makes otherwise ordinary human interaction humorous, engaging and unique. We use our imagination to introduce final stand The Toddler, and take in a shirtless Callinan as he swings in lyrics like, “When I drop my guts/You can see it in my face.”

Like tonight’s support act, headliners TV On The Radio have also earned recognition by sidestepping the status quo. Not that we’re worried about our Brooklyn visitors smearing food over their naked bodies when they walk out on stage — we simply know that we’re going to get anything but your standard indie-rock show.

Latest album, Seeds, immediately shines bright among select gems from their back catalogue. Lazerray guarantees our hearts are pumping almost from the outset, Golden Age is joyous and Happy Idiot is one big wave of terminal fuzz — Tunde Adebimpe’s voice strong and driven at the core of the sound. Silver-bearded guitarist Kyp Malone says he felt Brisbane’s positive vibes as soon as he touched down this morning. Many laugh, almost embarrassed by the compliment, but he assures us it’s the truth. Things feel good.
Careful You unloads a thick bass groove upon us; however, the six-piece fuck with the finish, delivering a conclusion that lacks the beauty of the Seeds version. No one minds though when the riffs rain down during Winter and transcendant powerhouse Wolf Like Me — the freakouts then mellowed by the considered and majestic Trouble, a ballad dripping in melancholy that somehow manages to avoid irony when offering lines from Bobby McFerrin.

The gregarious, free-flowing movements of frontman Adebimpe have slowed slightly with the passing of time, but he’s no less a spectacle to witness centre stage. Perpetually in-the-moment guitarist Dave Sitek is happy to reside back near the drum kit, just to give the lanky vocalist ample space to conduct energy between the skies and ourselves. He yelps through the hyperactive Repetition, before leading the band out for an encore which sees all sorts of freak stirred into the pot with some raga-vibed take on the Game Of Thrones theme music. Ride clears the haze from our minds before we’re struck with one last bolt of electricity in the form of Staring At The Sun, the song building at speed before bursting in full view.