Live Review: Aldous Harding

Aldous Harding enters the stage space with her backing band. Punters are still chatting. Someone in the crowd yells out, "SHUT UP!" Harding is amused and points out, "I haven't even started yet, mate." Then here's loads of shushing in the audience from Harding devotees. Those bewitching, soft strums that open Blend certainly silence us. Throughout this show, the minimal backing never swamps Harding's vocals as every single word is perfectly articulated. She begins seated on a stool, front and centre, taking in her audience and eyeballing those who capture her attention.  

When Harding stands up to perform sans guitar, that sometimes-accusatory gaze extends further afield and we're on tenterhooks. Her elastic facial expressions do whatever it takes to create the desired vocal sound and there's absolutely no vanity present while Harding is on stage presenting her sonic art. While seated on a stool, hunched over and playing guitar, Harding is a tad less intense and more vulnerable somehow. "I'm not feeling particularly chatty, but I'm loving this," she acknowledges. A fan literally clutches at cables holding a speaker stack together in order to step up and get a better look.

Her vocal affectation during Party underscores the pathos: "I was as happy as I'll ever be/Believe in me... If there is a party, will you wait for me?" Bass clarinet is used sparingly to great effect during this song. Every sudden "HEY!" and "YES!" sample that punctuates Imagining My Man catches us off guard, meticulously executed.

When Harding introduces Heaven Is Empty in deadpan fashion there's scattered laughter, which immediately disperses as the song commences (but then stubbies are tossed into a bin behind the bar, which momentarily breaks the spell). We thought the lyrical content in that song was heartbreaking, but then in comes the piano-led What If Birds Aren't Singing They're Screaming and we're in bits! It's almost too much to bear.

Harding introduces each member of her wonderful backing band to whistles and hollers and we only manage to catch, "Mister Jonathan Pierce on the synth," but they're all astonishing the way they subtly embellish her artistry. Telling us she remembers "playing a very special show here a few years ago when [she'd] just finished all these songs", Harding allows, "So, it's lovely to see." She then seems a bit overwhelmed, adding, "I don't know." Pilot is basically keys stabs and vocals, Harding's lyrics as startling as ever, "I'm ashamed of the quiet, but I want to be silent". After a simple, "Thank you, Melbourne," from Harding the crowd goes absolutely ballistic and demands an encore.

She returns to the stage and offers, "One more personality and I'll have the whole set," before presenting Weight Of The Planets resplendent with bass clarinet flourishes. During this final track, we sway to the subtle beats while wishing we could press rewind and experience this entire performance afresh.    

Post-show, a shellshocked-looking lady in the bathroom admits, "I'm still absorbing the whole experience." Harding is one for the ages and we ache to see a theatre tour in her future.