Live Review: My Friend The Chocolate Cake - New Globe Theatre

It's such a treat to be able to take in a Saturday afternoon, family-friendly, sit-down show from My Friend The Chocolate Cake, especially considering the Melbourne outfit has endured long enough to soundtrack the life of not one but two generations. Beginning with a gentle three-piece format in frontman David Bridie, cellist Helen Mountfort and violinist Hope Csutoros, The Centre Cannot Hold, from their last album, Fiasco, is a touching early highlight before they welcome the remaining three members to the stage to celebrate the release of their live compilation record, Best (Cake) In Show. Dean Addison's flame-patterned double bass is a great symbol of the sextet's appeal – within the framework of classical instrumentation, these guys know how to have fun, and make it clear with the shuffling train rhythm and cheer of 25 Stations. Instrumental, Bottom And The Rustics, dedicated to Rik Mayall, is led by Mountfort, who builds thick, slow textures before coaxing the band along into the space between a vibrant gypsy fling and a thoughtful folk tune.

Once the intermission stocks punters with topped-up wines and crinkling bags of chips for the little ones, a strong and comparatively dark rendition of Swirl swaps the brushes of the first set with percussion proper, and Bridie absolutely nails an impassioned vocal before moving straight back into his entertaining, irreverent banter: “I did tell my manager the next time we do a matinee show, don't do it in a red light district.” Lively string interplay between Mountfort and Csutoros signals a more assertive and playful second set that goes back to 1991 and Uncle Bill's Paddock, along with the roadtrip ballad, I've Got A Plan, from 1994's Brood album. The wonderful thing about Chocolate Cake is their ability to mix truly despairing and mournful musical moments – often with political overtones – with those of maximum joy and spirit, all the while interacting with wide grins and constant yet almost imperceptible musical cues in a manner that indicates just how in tune they are as a unit, and how much they enjoy each other's company. It's clearly an approach that has kept them in the company of a loyal fanbase since 1989; nearly every audience member stops by the merch stand on the way out for a chat, or a tea towel. It's hard not to love a band that provokes thought and challenges musical perceptions – even while doing the dishes – in such an undemanding yet pleasurable manner.