Live Review: Lior, Gerard Masters

Kiwi-born Gerard Masters takes the stage tonight both as support act and keys player for headliner Lior, having previously toured in the bands of Missy Higgins and Pete Murray. He plays jazz-inflected pop, beginning The Fray-esque opener Signs Of Life with an eerie manipulation of sustained notes. However, this experimentation is a brief interlude and is not yet reflected in his songs. There is a lot of movement and dexterity on the keys, but a vague and at times generic approach to lyrics and structure. Halfway through the set the piano is traded for guitar. It's possibly a new instrument for him, as he remains confident but doesn't seem as comfortable on it. Masters is an adept performer and singer, but is perhaps still young in songwriting. Particularly in pop as opposed to the jazz he was trained in, he hasn't yet developed a language of his own.
Tonight marks both Lior's first date of the tour for crowdfunded album Scattered Reflections, and the eve of its release. Joined by a full band including two separate drummers, he sets the mood well, striding on stage to sing the first haunting falsetto notes of Soon. The song ripples with a languid darkness, and the final belt of anguished lines, “How we come apart” shows just what a phenomenal vocalist he is. Segueing into Bells Of Montreal and then into the rhythmic pull of Tumbling Into The Dawn, Lior looks confident, relaxed and happy. There's a calm smile to himself between phrases and a lightness to his frame. The mix, however, takes a few songs to settle, with instruments coming in jarringly loud, and beautiful track Out In The Country is marred by a keyboard incident. The two drummers on stage with the band add a lift to a few songs (especially Tumbling...), but are perhaps excessive.
Lior's stories are direct and funny, recounting anecdotes about reviewers, little old ladies and an odd encounter with Tony Abbott. The connections between his delicate folk songs and theatrical '60s rock numbers are easier to find when hearing their backstory and seeing them performed live. His beautiful odes to his grandfather and mother (My Grandfather, Learn To Live, respectively) somehow sit well beside his psychedelic rejoice of youthful imagination (I Remember Me), tied together by the sincerity of the performance. He finishes the set receiving a lot of love from the crowd, which is to be expected.