Live Review: Courtney Barnett

Fremantle provided Courtney Barnett with the perfect audience to appreciate her self-deprecating but warming and evidently introspective music. She strolled on stage without a single word, kicking straight into Hopefulessness.

Giving us the rundown on tracks from Tell Me How You Really Feel right from the start, her emotion, strong wit and lyrical sarcasm were on full display. Jumping from one side of the stage to the other while slinging her guitar in a pure manifestation of her punk credentials, the romance in her music for the Australian lifestyle drew out her raw and relatable side.

It was a guitar-rocketed performance, with Barnett's now light and breezy movements so fitting for the cheerful songs that she might have sung with a hint of complacency. She looked more comfortable when letting her playing take centre stage, and briefly introduced her three band members as the nearly two-hour set flew by. "Hi Perth, is anyone there?" she grinned to a roaring crowd, before launching into Nameless Faceless, followed by I'm Not Your Mother, I'm Not Your Bitch, the most intense part of the night.

Musical themes of claustrophobia and desperation in her music were mixed with a light-hearted moderation, and the self-possessed and slightly masochistic lyrics, sung in trademark Barnett style, only made the crowd love her more.

When the mood shifted for a more mellow, heart-wrenching number like Depreston, it was a beautiful moment of wholeness — a visceral, charging song about how hard it is to find the right home (especially given the current state of Australia's property market). Although not a topic you would have come to expect in Australian ballads, for the moment, the longing turned desperation to was real. The whole crowd sang the song back to her and a tear could have been shed.

"That was beautiful," she said, and with a quick introduction of, "This is a song released a couple of years ago… I forgot when," she launched into History Eraser, with the painful parts forgotten and her laconic personality warmly oozing through the room.

Her songs took Fremantle on a rollercoaster of a ride, journeying through a land of strange ferocity and grungy rock, which sounded just as shabby as it was shiny. Ending with Pedestrian At Best, Barnett jumped off stage with a mumbled, "Thanks for coming out tonight," to a screaming and adoring audience. Her personality was genuine on stage, and she was as transparent in her music as she could get. With her casual and apathetic-yet-lovable presence, it would not have been surprising to find her in a kebab joint down the road chatting with fans after the show. There's something special about Barnett, and the truth in her music is rare.