Live Review: The Whitlams, Edward Guglielmino

Tonight’s sold-out seated affair at the Hi-Fi is a sure sign the headliners continue to hold a near and dear place in the hearts of music lovers.

Before they can work their magic though, Edward Guglielmino, from our own fine city, does his support slot justice. Of imposing stature offset by dorky specs and a straggly ginger mop top, Guglielmino and his two supporting players are a sparse set-up and they’re a bit loose around the edges initially for gentle strummer Middle Of The Night, but things tighten up after he makes the crowd sing happy birthday to his mum in the crowd.

Although they “may not be your cup of tea, we make great tea,” the man does an able job of turning his gentle abstract folk slow-burners into raw, twangy boppers like Healthy in the live setting, and nowhere is his voice more soul-searing than in solo form for closer, Mary.

After a commendable wait, the curtains part and a messy-haired, unshaven Tim Freedman, with his bottle of wine, strides into view with his ever-reliable men to a mammoth reception from a smattering of all ages, clearly appreciative that the Sydneysiders are still keen to work their magic on stage, if not seemingly in the studio, after 20-plus years. They get straight into it with Fall For You from 2002’s Torch The Moon. Having not released new material since 2006’s Little Cloud, and Freedman’s solo ventures, recent touring has kept the foursome on their toes and they sound as fun, upbeat, intimate, note-perfect as always. Freedman has retained those nuances that made his vocal and his ivory tinkling so potent in all the old hits the guys run through – Year Of The Rat, the Charlies, Gough – and if ever there’s a showcase for his voice it’s when the boys leave him and his “hastily hired piano” to just do their thing. When the boys return for No Aphrodisiac and Blow Up The Pokies it’s without the usual faffing around or rejigging that most groups do when it’s time to roll out the big hits; they play it straight and all ears are grateful before they depart.

Freedman has kept up his dry wit all night and it returns with the man himself, saying “we realised how early it was so decided we’d come back out,” but only for a short time as he’s got a jolly good book waiting back at the hotel, he informs us. They give us There’s No One and End Of Your World, then end on a high with I Will Not Go Quietly. The final response is staggering for that voice, those piano hands, for songs that are as familiar to us as an old friend.