Live Review: Woodlock, Lost Woods, Tim Moore

The fairy lights were on, the paper lanterns were strung, the amber was flowing and The Wheatsheaf’s courtyard community settled in for a Thursday night of youthful indie-folk-rock times.

Tim Moore set off proceedings with the Celtic-inspired soft acoustic guitar equivalent of a bang, and gently unfolded some modern folk tales to a “disarmingly attentive” crowd. Moore was at his best when his emotional delivery roughened up the edges of his occasionally too-clean enunciation.

Continuing to gain popular traction, fresh from a musical jaunt to Melbourne, Adelaide men-about-town Lost Woods ticked the Wheaty off their ever-diminishing list of ‘venues to be played’ with style to spare. Their mild-mannered indie-power-pop lifted the energy and likely won them some new fans from one of Adelaide’s folk music bastions.

Spirits were high when Woodlock took the stage, and the Melbourne trio quickly captured hearts and ears. Composed of two guitars (one acoustic, one electric), an upturned drum kit and a tiny synth (set to fuzzy bass) they went to work entrancing an eager audience with thoughtful nu-folk tunes, largely pulled from their latest EP, Labour Of Love.

Unfairly blessed with musical maturity beyond their years, the dual frontperson brothers Walters evinced images of afternoon sunshine and freedom - like a cider commercial dripping with apple blossoms and springtime promise through an Amaro filter.

There was some impressive ambidexterity on display with guitar and synth being wielded simultaneously, as well as some inventive use of an unconventional percussion set-up. This flares for the unfamiliar made for an even more engaging and dynamic performance, reinforcing the main musical theme of innocent irrepressibility.

Folky foot stomps and infectious ooh-ah-oohs punctuated Woodlock’s set of heartfelt eyes-closed harmonies about love, video games and zombies (don’t knock it till you hear it). As they rounded off the night with the gorgeous Eleanor some stern-looking folks in the crowd were spotted profusely wiping phantom dust from their eyes. Perhaps it best sums up Woodlock’s performance to recount the band’s coyness and nigh embarrassment at the beauty of their own closing song.