Live Review: Jen Cloher, Wet Lips, Hachiku

We need to coin a brand new genre classification for Melbourne four-piece Hachiku, a twist on the indie pop thing: this band play 'inty pop', that is, pop music made by and for introverts.

Frontwoman and key songwriter Anika Ostendorf comes across like she'd prefer to be home on a cold Melbourne night, tucked away in front of the fire in her comfy jim-jams and slippers and sipping a nice hot cup of chamomile tea (she apparently even has a cup of chamomile on stage with her). But, appearances, of course, can be deceiving. Ostendorf is very musically gifted, her songs are ethereal and catchy, full of highly tasteful, textural guitar playing and shimmering guitar tones, and fabulous three-part vocal harmonies that rise sweetly and wistfully to the heavens.

After a low-key start, with just the trio up the front with guitars, bass and keys (which Osterberg also handles with aplomb), their drummer joins them on stage and they swoon through another 25 minutes of their unique brand of left of centre shoegaze, and the ever-growing crowds loves every second.

Long live inty pop!

Wet Lips are a Melbourne three-piece whose onstage banter and interplay is probably just as entertaining as their music. In an excellent contrast to the melodic but circumspect moodiness of the openers, this band belt out short, mid-paced pop-punkish tunes with far more exuberance and larrikin attitude than technical skill. And you know what? That's absolutely fine, there's plenty of room in this world for this type of fun, undemanding party-time rock'n'roll. Maybe just a little more work on the dynamics and distinctiveness of their tunes and Wet Lips will kick all manner of goals. It's awesome to see their deep respect for the headliner, and all three members are clad in Jen Cloher T-shirts.

And speaking of which, the great lady of Melbourne music is up next. More than a decade since her debut album, Cloher is veritably overflowing with confidence as a performer and songwriter. Yet this is no nostalgia trip, as her first two classic albums are virtually ignored in favour of her more recent material (Mount Beauty and set closer Name In Lights are particularly rousing, with a whole bunch of their mates joining the band on stage for the latter). The reason for this is simple: she has evolved into and reinvented herself as the quintessential Aussie rocker. Gone is the folky, acoustic guitar-strumming singer-songwriter. Cloher's set is wall to wall electric rock, with nary an acoustic guitar to be heard anywhere throughout, and the new tunes possess a rolling, four on the floor momentum that you can feel in your chest cavity.

International superstar Courtney Barnett is there at her side, skillfully laying out her classy guitar licks. She provides harmonious vocal accompaniment and a deadpan foil for Cloher's between-song wit, but this is very much Cloher's show, and her voice and presence demand your attention.

Her set not too long, not too short, a 55-minute set proper and two rollicking encores, and the completely sold-out crowd laps up every moment, every song, every typically Aussie wise-crack from this consummate Australian entertainer and her superb band.