Live Review: Astral People 10 + 1 Birthday Feat. Yussef Dayes, Hiatus Kaiyote & More

The line strays the barricades and snakes for at least a hundred metres. People are noticeably excited. Everyone you’ve ever known seems to be in this line. As we emerge from our chrysalids, we flap our wings like social butterflies, making the best of a slow-moving line.

They’re looking for “metals” apparently - the security guards - as we shuffle at a snail’s pace through metal detectors and the attendants go through bags. It feels like an airport. But, as you circumnavigate the famous Opera House sails, watching the harbour lit up resplendent, you hear a familiar sound, a sound most of the crowd is desperate to hear.

Melbourne’s Mildlife are deep in The Magnificent Moon, a track from their first album, Phase; a song that takes you on a journey with an infectious leitmotif, a lunar synthesis of meandering synth, transportative drums, a soul-stirring bassline and a meditative lyric. It is the perfect entry point to the night which nullifies the bizarre bureaucracy Sydney’s music scene is now synonymous with.

Automatic adds a different flavour to the set with its driving drum beat and a more robotic guitar line vaguely reminiscent of Pink Floyd. Then comes the mechanised vocals fed through a filter, presenting a mood that matches the song’s title. The effect matches the visuals which trump Vivid’s spectacle. Then, in what seems like no time, they’re gone.

Dameeeela fills the gaps between sets with vibe-positive music, keeping the crowd dancing to stay warm on this wintry night at Bennelong Point. Then comes jetsetting Jitwam: Assam-born, Brooklyn-based performer, DJ and label head at The Jazz Diaries. He opens with recent release, Brooklyn Ballers, a track with silly lyrics matched with shambolic stage antics.

Jitwam’s rhythm section is incredibly tight: the signature of a live show which has to contend with the band leader’s whims. Altogether, the live band in its nine-piece configuration sound out of sorts, a hodgepodge of deep grooves, killer drums and backing vocals (provided by Tiana Khasi) which are sadly almost inaudible. For all the ups and downs of the set, when Jitwam hops on the guitar for Temptations, suddenly everything comes together. The lower register and undulating melody brings his voice out from behind the veil of yelling into the mic. Overall, maybe it’s the levels or the fact that what was very filtered in a studio setting is left more or less untouched, but the vocals feel strained and hamper the synchronicity of the set.

Hiatus Kaiyote have become veterans of an Australian neo-soul scene which they seemed to forge (and bring into the mainstream) with their 2013 Tawk Tomahawk. It’s been a long time since then and they’ve cultivated a live show in that time which blends the weird, the genuine, the fantastic and the melodically mellifluous. Now, with stunning visuals to match the stagecraft of a band reemerging from two very different hiatuses (out of choice and out of COVID), the synthesis provides a refined yet rambunctious performance. 

The power of Hiatus lies in their ability to merge the technically tight jazz training of bassist Paul Bender and keyboardist Simon Mavin with the experimental dextrosity of drummer Perrin Moss and the soaring vocal range and nuanced lyrics of lead singer Nai Palm. This comes together best in their new album - which makes up the bulk of their set - in the disparate tracks, Get Sun which has a raucous celebratory sound belying the dark undercurrents of its lyrics; And We Go Gentle which opens with a repeated invocation and lyrics which move around a trap rhythm; and closing track, Red Room which takes us into an intimate world, a safe space where anything is possible.

Then main attraction, Yussef Dayes, clearly battling jet lag, makes his first appearance on a Sydney stage and his first and only faux pas: “Yo Brisbane…ah, Sydney,” he says. “This jet lag is messing with me. It’s a blessing to be here. It’s our first time here.” From then on, you wouldn’t know he was in the grips of that fatiguing beast because he is the best thing out. His pace, his variations, his ability to shift from light tinkering on the high-hat to launching into trap jazz beats combine to send eager listeners into bobble-head mode.

The visuals are various and vivid and evoke spectral scenes which vibrate on your soul. Yet, they are no match for the evocative power of the grooves of bassist Rocco Palladino, the whirring sounds of Charlie Stacey’s keys and the cut-through howl of Venna’s sax. Tracks like For My Ladies which features a nostalgic keys melody and deep and soulful bassline; Lift Off which moves slowly towards climax and shows, as always, the dextrosity of the drummer and his trio; and Tidal Wave which washes over you so you don’t even miss Tom Misch’s lyrics all fold into each other and the night. And as we file out, back into the flurry of lights and people, as if returning to earth, we smile collectively, thrilled and satisfied by a night of music Astral People should be proud of.