Live Review: Ed Kuepper, Blank Realm

There might as well have been a sign up on the door saying ‘locals only’ like some ‘weird Surf Nazi beach shack’, such is the neighbourhood connection to just about every facet of tonight’s proceedings. We’re gathering in new Brisbane venue The Triffid (the brainchild of former Powderfinger member JC), and acknowledging the G20 cultural celebrations (somewhat informally as it proves, given a clown has changed the big sign on stage from G20 to 4-20 in that finest stoner tradition) which are about to impose themselves on our fine city. To do so we have two of our thriving Brisbane music scene’s finest bookends – one of our finest elder statesmen and a bunch showing the way for the current echelon of bands – and given that the night is free (under the auspices of G20) a frankly huge mid-week crowd has assembled to pay homage to two of the city’s finest.

Given that four-piece Blank Realm can seemingly do no wrong of late – they’ve carved their initials on everything from Glastonbury to BIGSOUND this year – it’s little wonder that they’ve been hand-picked by tonight’s headliner to kickstart proceedings. They open with a joyous take on Back To The Flood and a quick scan of the room reveals that they’re winning new fans over already (although they’ve pulled plenty of their own tonight), and the voices of siblings Sarah and Daniel Spencer mesh wonderfully as they move onto Bulldozer Love which has the whole band joining the abandon and giving in to the vital music. The hangar-shaped room gives perfect viewing of the large stage from every vantage point, but more importantly the sound is huge and crisp with perfect separation for every element and instrument, auguring extremely well for this brand new room. Acting Strange is given a slightly electro-heavy treatment and segues nicely into Cleaning Up My Mess, this perfect mesh of groove, repetition and melody made even more fun by the band’s energetic demeanour. Sarah’s recent keytar acquisition again proves to be a huge boon for the band as she gets to rock out with venom during Reach You On The Phone, before she takes the drums for the sultry and loosely swinging Go Easy, allowing Daniel to come out front and offer some of his now familiar rock shapes. Guitarist Luke Walsh and bassist Luke Spencer (yet another brother) are getting into the groove on stage right, and the awesome foursome finish a stellar set with live fave Falling Down The Stairs which proves, as always, to be a flawless showcase of this fine band’s flagrant talents.

After a brief intermission the solitary figure of local legend Ed Kuepper enters the fray to a hero’s reception, taking a seat before the microphone armed with just his guitar, and soon that distinctively dry yet incredibly emotive voice is finding its way into every corner of the room for the first time in anger, kicking off in brilliant fashion with a haunting rendition of his alma mater The Saints’ classic Swing For The Crime. This is one of his ‘Solo And by Request’ shows so soon there’s a tsunami of song titles being pelted at the inveterate entertainer, but he’s as stoic as ever and has no qualms telling people that it’s “too early” for some requests and that the punters in question are basically dreaming for others; he’s happy, however, to throw in Fireman Joe and his by now staple cover of The Kinks’ Last Of The Steam Powered Trains (which requires audience assistance, and in turn prompting from Kuepper for the crowd to pull their collective finger out). Solo staple Honey Steel’s Gold gets an airing, and The Saints’ Brisbane (Security City) reminds us not to get too complacent in this ‘new Brisbane’ – it sounds so much more evocative in this stripped-back form with the lyrics at the fore – before he continues on his way with a seemingly endless stream of fantastic numbers including Horse Under Water, By The Way and the excellent Rue The Day, which ends up in a massive cacophony of noise despite him using just guitar, pedals and voice. He continues on with old chestnut La Di Doh just because it’s in the same key as its predecessor, with the entirely appropriate Rainy Night next (you can hear rain from a storm outside on the tin roof – although not enough to distract from the music – and some rainwater starts to trickle into the room in certain places near the bar, although not enough to be a hassle for anyone except staff). He dips into the catalogue of one of his other major bands of yesteryear, The Laughing Clowns – Collapse Board and Theme from “Mad Flies, Mad Flies” both showing a different, slightly avant, side to Kuepper’s songwriting – before he lands the double-punch blow of Car Headlights and Electrical Storm, two of his most readily endearing efforts. The large throng is still transfixed and the singer as unflappable as ever as the poignant Everything I’ve Got Belongs To You cedes to the massive finale of Eternally Yours, a blissful peak of creativity which tops off this incredible performance perfectly. The two acts which thrill the crowd tonight with their dysfunctional yet perfect synchronicity might only be joined by geography and an elevated sense of musical acumen, but that proves more than enough to ensure a special (albeit slightly parochial) experience for all and sundry.