Live Review: Busby Marou, The Teskey Brothers

Folk-pop troubadours Busby Marou channelled pure positivity through messages of inclusion, mateship and gratitude, a welcome antidote to a cold political climate.

A warm Hobart crowd were blown away by humble Melbourne support act The Teskey Brothers, who brought a heavenly blend of classic Motown soul and smoky blues reminiscent of Dan Auerbach and Syl Johnson. The pair had just started touring, having busked tirelessly since they were 12. That authenticity won the crowd over immediately, with spine-tingling vibrato that hung in the air and slow, soulful harmonies. Josh Teskey's roaring, emotional voice complemented the cascading guitar perfectly, rolling into harmonica sections seamlessly; a perfect segue to the headline.

Busby Marou don't take themselves too seriously. They exuded laid-back warmth from the first moment to match their classic brand of upbeat Australiana. The wonderfully stereotypical country-boy Thomas Busby, and the gentle giant Jeremy Marou, launched into a hopeful and airy tune, supported by an earthy foot-drum. Busby encouraged the sit-down crowd to have fun and do whatever they like; a dozen gig-goers then joined them at the foot of the stage to dance about joyfully. Feeding off each other's energy, Busby and Marou's rose-tinted lyrics and organic harmonies made for a heady nostalgia. Despite their humility, they're both accomplished artists. The searching falsetto of Busby and the incredibly intricate guitar of Marou hit home.

In time for Reconciliation Week, the two long-time advocates reflected on the history of Eddie Mabo's birthday and rich Indigenous culture.

"We often get asked what it's like collaborating between a white fella and a black fella," Marou said, "but we're just mates who love playing together. That's all there is."

Effortless role models for equality and closing the gap, Busby and Marou show exactly why dropping labels, and reconciling the harm in Australia's past, can be such a beautiful thing.

Their 2017 album, Postcards From A Shell House is a return to form, from the recent success of their radio-friendly single Best Part Of Me. It's clearly the consummation of the lessons learned from years of touring. Capturing a triumphant optimism in Paint This Land, and making the most of life in Drink The World Dry, the pair also took a request, playing an old favourite in Cyndi Lauper's Girls Just Want To Have Fun.

Never has there been something as brilliantly silly as a mountainous Torres Strait Islander shredding on a tiny ukulele. Busby continued to detour into comedy, about flawless and abysmal gigs from the road, including a gig by Paul Kelly from 1979. Kelly, performing to a tiny pub crowd, sounded gravelly and harsh, and the levels were all wrong, with cords everywhere. Towards the end of the bad set, a crowd member approached the stage, he hoped to request a song to lift the mood, but instead told him "I just wanted to let you know this was the worst gig I've ever seen". Busby revealed to the crowd that it was something they weren't strangers to.

The two moved into the crowd for a campfire song at the finale of the set, a perfect analogy for the welcoming and down-to-earth vibe that makes Australian music truly great.