Live Review: Belle & Sebastian, Twerps

“If we look tired it’s because it’s now twelve where we’re from, although we’ve been drinking since two,” snickers Twerps lead fella Matt Frawley. If that really was the case, then it was an extraordinarily focused performance. If not, as this writer suspects, it was a competent effort by the Melbourne four-piece, who’s understated, homely charm was somewhat at odds with the plush fittings of the Astor. But as amicable and unpretentious as Twerps are, their pedestrian songs really are proof that nothing risked equals not much gained.

“Let’s all get sticky together,” Belle & Sebastian’s leading man Stuart Murdoch proposed at the start of what turned into to a seriously steamy affair. Perhaps the airconditioning was on the blink, but the humid air of the normally temperate Astor thickened into a swamp-like fug as the night wore on. Still, no two Belle & Sebastian shows are alike, as this time Murdoch enlightened us with tales of being attacked in King’s Park (by mosquitoes) and enjoying the thunderstorms (“it’s quite exotic for us”).

Backed by an impressive 12-person troupe, including perennial stalwart Stevie Jackson, the tentative opener, Everlasting Muse appeared to find Murdoch searching for his voice. The opening half-hour was an engaging, nuanced performance, but hardly a conquest. The mood livened with the pulsing Party Line, however, a slick disco stomper made for a sweltering room packed with undulating bodies. As has become something of a tradition, boys and girls were invited for onstage (we’re told the view is majestic up there) for a boogie to the hands-in-the-air joy of The Boy With The Arab Strap, although with the mass of musicians and instruments up there, it must have been cosy. The entrancing build of Sleep The Clock Around, complete with swelling trumpet crescendo, consummated the main set, turning around what had been quite a low-key, almost awkward beginning into a triumph.

Applause that peeled like tropical thunder brought the band back for an encore. “Let’s play the second song from the first album,” Murdoch declared, a statement which had the younger musicians desperately searching Wikipedia. Expectations’ obscurity didn’t faze the audience though, all knowingly shouted along. It was a just a one-song encore, but truth be told we were all pretty sticky by then.