I’ve loved Death Cab for Cutie for a number of years. The first time I was aware of them touring Australia, I was a few months shy of 18 and they, of course, played an 18+ show. The second time, August 2008, my expectations were so high that I walked away disappointed thanks to the somewhat mechanical feeling of the show, the poor acoustic balance at the Enmore, and the absence of some much loved tracks (and, not Death Cab’s fault, but the fact that my dear boyfriend was sick the whole time. Not because of the music, but still, not pleasant). The third time, at the exclusive Oxford Art Factory MySpace show, I was impressed – better sound, better set, better audience.

And so the fourth time rolled around last night at Sydney’s Enmore Theatre, my third time seeing them. And I was skeptical. Would I walk away with a smile on my dial, or would I walk away cursing the modern music scene and being the cynical old woman I’ve somehow become?

And to be honest, it was a bit of both. Over the past few years, Death Cab have formed a pretty solid fan base, ranging from the jaded old school indie gang to the 12-year-olds who are trying their best to emulate Seth Cohen. It shows as well – they went from 2 years between Australian tours to a mere 6 months, and a geeky chubster in Ben Gibbard to the gaunt Zooey Deschanel-dating hipster he currently is. Such a transformation isn’t particularly surprising, considering the great amount of exposure they’ve received in recent years.

Let’s first discuss what I consider the two big epic fails of last night’s concert.

The first is the audience. Yeah, yeah, call me an elitist, but something just wasn’t right. Maybe it was the underage couple on the barrier in front of me who wouldn’t give up the pash for a second during the entire night (pretty sure I saw tongue once or twice). Maybe it was the 16-year-old blonde girl in front of me who boasted loudly about getting a Van She set list, and then proceeded to fist-pump through all of Death Cab’s set whilst also singing extremely off-key, with hand actions, at inappropriate times. Maybe it was the pair of girls taking MySpace photos of themselves during the set. One thing to be said about the crowd is that they were certainly very excited to be there, as the raucous applause and screaming suggested, and it’s a positive feeling to be part of a mass that is obviously appreciative of the music – but at the same time, is it appropriate to sing along to ‘I Will Follow You Into The Dark’, breaking the delicate barrier between audience and singer? It’s a bit of a paradox in that enthusiasm is valued and being involved in gigs can be invigorating, but the average punter paid to hear Gibbard’s dulcet vocals, not a 16 year old girl’s hyperventilating shriek. Some food for thought there.

The second epic fail was a fault of the band’s tech staff – sticking a set list up on the amp in plain view of the crowd before the band had even reached the stage. Why this proved problematic was that a good many of the audience members, myself included, were unvoluntarily subjected to a list of what would be played, thus taking the surprise right out of the set list. I know that I myself immediately scanned the page for ‘What Sarah Said’, crucially lacking from the last two shows I attended, and the absence of it on this set list was an instant dampener on my mood. Note to techies – set list on floor or somewhere out of the audience’s line of vision, please.

As for the music itself, Death Cab certainly are a very tight-knit group who, having played together for over a decade, know each other intimately and are able to bring that closeness to their music. But the set was almost identical to the last Enmore show with the exception of a few songs, and the execution, whilst masterful, lacked in a crucial element – fun. Rarely communicating with the audience (except for the occasional ‘thank you’), it was just a run-of-the-mill 90 minute concert, with some sing-alongs to be had, but nothing to offer that was new or original – besides ‘Grapevine Fires’. In the wake of the bushfire tragedy, the line “the firemen worked a double shift / prayers for rain were on their lips / we knew it was only a matter of time” was much more poignant and hard-hitting – moments that are unintentionally reflective of current events rarely really happen at concerts, and when they do, they’re special.

There were several slip-ups during the night, like Chris Walla breaking into the wrong riff for ‘The Sound of Settling’ – whilst mistakes aren’t really anything to applaud, his embarrassed, awkward grin brought a more personal element to the performance. But other than that, it was all quite mechanical in a way – even the encore closer, the heartbreaking long-distance ballad ‘Transatlanticism’, felt a little trite, because it was exactly what they’d done last time.

So really, whilst the show last night had me singing in some parts and almost tearful in others, the only difference I can articulate between this show and the last is that my boyfriend wasn’t vomiting behind me last night. Death Cab for Cutie have a wide catalogue of music and there’s no doubt that they’re good at what they do, but unfortunately the live show leaves a lot to be desired, especially after seeing them on more than one occasion. After three times seeing them and only one of those times really blowing me away, I think it’s safe to say that next time they appear on our shores (who knows, maybe in the next 6 months again), I probably won’t be in attendance. Unless they finally play ‘What Sarah Said’.

Set:

Employment Pages
Your Heart Is An Empty Room
The New Year
We Laugh Indoors
Crooked Teeth
President of What?
No Sunlight
Grapevine Fires
Summer Skin
Soul Meets Body
I Will Possess Your Heart
Title and Registration
Cath…
Fake Frowns
Long Division
The Sound of Settling
Bixby Canyon Bridge
—
I Will Follow You Into The Dark
A Movie Script Ending
Transatlanticism

Interview for minkmagazine.com

In a day and age where anyone can buy a camera, take a few shots of pretty girls and flowers and call themselves a photographer, the line separating hobbyists from professionals can often be very thin and blurred. Whether it’s a 13-year-old with a digital or a professional with elaborate manual equipment, photos are photos – and shouldn’t we all be allowed to express ourselves?

But the difference between the masses and photographers like Geoffrey Chuah is that the latter group makes it their mission to stand up and stand out. Whilst doing what he loves, Chuah is also trying to push boundaries and bridge the gap between simply taking pictures, and creating works of art.

“My passion is my photography but it’s more my art; it gives me an opportunity to do something different,” he says.

(more…)

David Byrne has always been quirky, but he’s never been inaccessible. Coming to fame as the frontman of new wave outfit Talking Heads in the 70s, he’s turned heads with his crazy wardrobe choices, guest starred on The Simpsons and appeared on every Windows XP user’s computer by default with ‘Like Humans Do’.

And it seems that age is only improving him – after the release of his most recent collaboration with producer Brian Eno, Everything That Happens Will Happen Today, the eccentric white-haired funk veteran returned to Australian shores in the first week of February for the Songs of David Byrne and Brian Eno Tour.

Accompanied on stage by a full band, as well as backing singers and backflipping dancers (all wearing matching white outfits), the Big Suit’s return to Australia for the first time since 2005 exploded into force with a soulful rendition of the lead single from his new record, ‘Strange Overtones’. It proved a perfect way to introduce the man behind the music; as he sang the line “these grooves are out of fashion / these beats are 20 years old”, it was anyone’s guess that he’d spend the next 2 hours showing that while the second part of that particular lyric may be accurate, the first couldn’t be farther from the truth.

Showcasing material ranging from early Heads to the most recent record, the show spanned the entirety of Byrne’s prolific partnership with leading experimental musician and producer Eno. Comparing the new material with his last non-Heads collaboration with Eno, 1981′s My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, it really feels worlds apart. Ditching avant-garde experimentation for lush melodies and the occasional nod to their roots, Byrne and Eno have this time around crafted a record that is accessible to a newer generation, whilst not isolating the old either – something evidenced by the variety of audience members, from grey-haired dads to flannel-wearing hipsters who no doubt raved about the show on Last.FM afterwards.

Whether it was the Dadaist poetry of ‘I Zimbra’, the eruptive schizophrenia of ‘Crosseyed and Painless’ or the dulcet cynicism of ‘Heaven’, the musical palates of the Heads fans in the room were whetted with a selection of tunes from the three Eno-produced albums. Byrne’s voice, not weakened with age, rang out through the Opera House hall with ecstasy as he recapped some of his finest moments, with the biggest cheers saved for Remain in Light anthem ‘Once in a Lifetime’ and the light-heartedly cynical ‘Life During Wartime’ getting most, if not all, punters on their feet. Possibly the closest to Stop Making Sense most of us will ever get – and what a day it was.

Playing a strong mix of Heads and new songs, as well as material from Bush of Ghosts and his 1981 Twyla Tharp dance score The Catherine Wheel, Byrne held the audience in the palm of his hand as he achieved the perfect balance between the lunatic of old and the soulful crooner of new – who would ever have guessed he’d settle down like this?

But it wasn’t until the end that he proved that hey, he’s really just the same as he ever was – when the lights came up for the second encore there he was, 56-year-old David Byrne, in a white tutu along with the rest of his band. Prancing in his little skirt whilst performing an ecstatic rendition of ‘Burning Down the House’, Byrne showed that he’s still as nutty and relevant as ever – here’s to a gent who will continue to remain in light as long as he lives.