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Live Review: Lloyd Cole

"A recollection of that time when moody literary boys could write songs about moody girls who drove moody French cars."

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It's a recollection of that time when moody literary boys could write songs about moody girls who drove moody French cars, moodily read Simone de Beauvoir, and looked like moody starlets from 1950s movies.

But apparently we didn't really know Lloyd Cole then. "I thought I was looking neutral in photos, but turns out I just looked angry," he explains to a crowd that knew most of the lyrics, as he ran through a fair cross section of songs from the 20th century element of his career.

Nearly 30 years on from fronting The Commotions, and now in solo-bloke-with-guitar mode, Cole punctuated his songs with a nice line in deadpan — waves of first-half latecomers all greeted with an admonishing, "Well, you just missed me playing Rattlesnakes," as indeed he had delivered the title track of that still-terrific debut album three songs in.

Dusky croon still mostly intact, Cole admitted he was trying to think like a middle-aged man when only 26, so songs like 2CV, Jennifer She Said and Hey Rusty still speak to a crowd that's aged with him.

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After a half-time interval for middle-aged bladders and thirsts to be sorted, our old Brand New Friend Lloyd lets us all feel a little older by introducing his "special guest" — lookalike son William on second guitar with his Echo & The Bunnymen-inspired haircut; although his occasional flamenco flourishes could have him mistaken for the similarly era-ed Roddy Frame as well.

More of the hits and memories are traversed: Four Flights Up, Lost Weekend and odd flourishes that fit — a snatch of Springsteen's Born To Run, a verse of Bowie's Heroes, even some of The Go-Betweens for local colour. A final Forest Fire unfurls and the faithful are out the door happy before 10pm on a Sunday night.