Live Review: Daughter, Vancouver Sleep Clinic

It's 7.30 on a Monday night and despite – or perhaps due to – the very un-rock'n'roll timeslot, a queue of excited music lovers ascend the steps of St Michael's Uniting Church. The sun is still setting and the city is resplendent. It's a cooler evening than what we've experienced of late so there's a slight sense of anxiety entering the church in shorts and a T-shirt. Once inside, it seems an inspired outfit; the church is already near capacity and the mercury is hovering somewhere between 'toasty and 'sweating bullets'.
The voice of Vancouver Sleep Clinic (aka 17-year old-wunderkind Tim Bettinson), reminiscent of Antony Hegarty or Ólafur Arnalds, is already soaring somewhere among the stained-glass windows and upper reaches of the balcony. With his guitar, band and layered vocals and synthesisers, the obvious comparison to Bettinson's textured sound is Bon Iver. But it's often difficult to clearly hear Bettinson's lyrics so there's a sense that – perhaps in a different venue – the intricacies of Vancouver Sleep Clinic's sound might be better heard.
After two-and-a-half weeks playing all across Australia as part of Laneway Festival as well as through the Heavenly Sounds program that sees them here tonight, one could be forgiven for expecting Daughter's last show in the country to be a slick affair. However, as a few technical and human glitches rear their heads throughout this 90-minute set (including the encore), there's a strangely satisfying feeling that this isn't some glossed-up group with a pretty woman up front. Sure, Elena Tonra is quietly mesmerising, but her self-deprecating humour wins the hearts of a vast majority of this all-ages crowd. It stays on the right side of dismissive and trite (just), and thankfully Tonra leaves most of the banter to guitarist Igor Haefeli: “We like to be awkward; we like to make people feel awkward,” which, of course, sees everyone squirm in their seats just a little.
Musically, Daughter are impressive. The London three-piece (with a fourth member appearing as needed) lean heavily on reverb to create their ethereal soundscapes which, when combined with the warmth of the room, cause some eyelids dangerously close to closed in a few pews. There are enough flashes of noise, though, to keep the attention of the masses. When the band play singles Human and, especially, Youth, the screams are nearly deafening. Finishing with a shoegaze-indie cover of Get Lucky is an audience-friendly move, but it's a boring rendition that does the original no justice. But looking at the smiling young faces leaving the church out into the cool night suggests this doth not matter.