The BethsOutside, in the warm evening, ANZAC Day is still in full swing. Inside, the Forum is filled with a crowd of excited people in their late 20s.
Kiwi accents pepper conversations, and tonight’s show by The Beths – the last of their Australian tour – feels like a long time coming. The album it is ostensibly promoting, Straight Line Was a Lie, was released in August, so it has had plenty of time to sink in, get passed around, and win over new fans. Judging by the number of people taking photos of the venue’s curved azure ceiling and statues of Greek gods, it seems many are here for the first time, which feels like an unfairly opulent introduction to live music in the city.
Soon, attention turns from the fixtures to the stage from where low feedback tones emerge, and the Wellington three-piece Womb begin their set. Comprising siblings Cello and Hez Forrester and meticulous drummer Georgette Brown, the trio moves at a careful pace and plays well-calibrated, Big Thief-infused slowcore, heavy on atmosphere and with plenty of room for Cello's arresting voice. It’s a blend potent enough to lift the “audience chatter” curse of many support bands. “We were born in Melbourne,” says Cello, “so this is like a homecoming for us.”
Musical sparseness and a slow tempo should spell doom for an unfamiliar band, but Womb put such care into their guitar tones, melodies and arrangements that it’s spellbinding. The instantly catchy Only You brings a slightly higher energy while still blending elements of shoegaze and Beach House-style dream pop.
The following I Swear, uses triggered samples and pre-prepared sounds, but, unusually, the use of technology does little to detract from the power of the show. Womb close with a sparse and moody cover of SOPHIE’s Is It Cold in the Water? that really shows off Cello’s vocal skills, prompting the question, why she doesn’t push herself on the band’s own tracks, given how powerful the effect is.
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Arriving on a stage decorated in tall lamps and an arboreal banner with vines that spell their name, The Beths seem instantly happy and slightly fatigued. Though no notes are flubbed or beats dropped, there is a sense throughout their set that they are putting in less effort despite their obvious delight in performing.
Luckily, the young, largely female-presenting and enthusiastic audience brings all that missing energy and more. Opening with the title track from their most recent album, Straight Line Was a Lie, singer Elizabeth Stokes breaks into the song to yell, “hello Syd-oh no–Melbourne!” instantly moving from mortification to mirth, cracking herself and the audience up. Her goof becomes fuel for later banter in which she castigates herself and apologises profusely. “I’m so sorry, it’s the worst mistake I could have made. I should misname us, too.”
Continuing the set with another album highlight, No Joy and Silence is Golden, the sheer talent on the stage is enough to fuel a dozen other indie pop bands. Drummer Tristan Deck, bassist Ben Sinclair and guitarist Jonathan Pearce channel their considerable skill into tight three-to-four-minute songs, a testament to Stokes’ songwriting and the band’s creativity. That they can all manage vocal harmonies as well is perhaps the band’s greatest secret power.
There are few better examples of this than the next song, Metal. On first listen, it is a Robert Smith-like breezy guitar pop track driven by a 12-string guitar arpeggio and a melodic bassline, but soon the lyrical and musical back and forth between Stokes and the rest of the band reveals its surprising depth.
Not many people write songs about their diagnosis of Graves’ disease, and even fewer of those songs can lay claim to being a near-perfect example of their genre. Live, it’s breathtaking how effortlessly Stokes’ voice floats like a shiny balloon through the song, the band keeping her aloft at every moment.
What is heartening about tonight’s show is how many of The Beths’ newer songs, like Metal and the ensuing Til My Heart Stops get the biggest responses of the night. The same is true for Mother Pray for Me, a song everyone but Stokes exits the stage for. An unpretentiously direct song about grief that gains power from Stokes’ emotional restraint. The crowded room manages total silence for its duration, investing the song with even more power.
As much of the audience recomposes themselves, the band returns and the set is kicked up a gear with the inclusion of some of the band’s punchier tracks, Your Side, Ark of the Covenant and Mars, the God of War. It’s these sorts of tonal and tempo gear shifts that reveal how much the band are truly loved. Moving from heartfelt and gently melodic to high-energy rock driven by Pearce’s thrashed Les Paul and Deck’s constantly busy and inventive drumming. It’s like going from a wake to a high school prom.
“Let’s take an opportunity to look at the stars,” Pearce says, interrupting the show to point out the roof. The pinprick lights, sunken into the blue ceiling, give the appearance of twinkling stars in a dusk sky, and the band are clearly pretty taken with it.
“I’ve been researching this venue’s history,” Pearce continues, “on Wikipedia – and I’ll be showing my age here – Encarta.” Pearce has memorised little more than the first paragraph of the Wikipedia entry and is soon unable to differentiate between Venetian and Florentine courtyards, much to the room’s amusement.
Stokes takes up the interlude and begins pointing out her favourite statues, adopting their poses as she does so. “Isn’t it weird to think that thousands of years ago people pointed the same way?” she says, cracking herself up. “Not really.” As one fan helpfully points out Adonis, another yells “Less talk more rock,” and the band oblige.
Mosquitos, another highlight of their most recent album, inspires dancing, singing and arm-waving. After older bangers Jump Rope Gazers, Little Death, and I’m Not Excited, they close with a cracking version of Expert in a Dying Field that gets perhaps the biggest cheers of the night.
Returning for a Take, one of the most danceable tracks from Straight Line Was a Lie, it's a perfect way to match the energy in the room before sending us all back out into the warm night. A feeling that is so positive it reminds this reviewer of Taylor Swift at the MCG, being borne back to reality surrounded by hundreds of 20-somethings deeply in love with music and having a really good night.
