LOUIS
TILLETTSunday, January 14, 2001
@ the Excelsior Hotel, Sydney
I'd been led to believe that there was no likelihood (or scope in the schedule) for any local gigs before the planned German tour starting later in the week, so the advert for this show came as a welcome surprise, like a very late Christmas present. And it was not going to be just any show - there'd be no support acts and Louis would be playing all three sets himself!
The announcement also said that copies of the new album ("Learning to Die") would be available, with some even being given away to the first few punters through the door but, in keeping with the long and glorious tradition of local record launches, the CDs turned out not to have arrived in time. However, in an effort to assuage any audience disappointment, copies of his most recent album "Cry Against the Faith" (the sharp and crystal clear remaster by Don Bartley, not the original muddy German release) were being given away instead. Strangely it seemed that to many of the punters who had made the special effort to turn up early, it too was a "new" album (presumably a reflection of the vagaries of indie record distribution and the growing homogenization of Sydney record stores).
Unfortunately the absence of the new album resulted in an absence from the set of any of the new songs (although the album was recorded last year, he has yet to play a single song from it at any show in Australia), so I guess it's those lucky Germans who'll be getting to hear them played live for the first time. Since he's had more releases in Germany than he has had here, perhaps they've earned it. Nevertheless, not getting to hear any of the new songs was no cause for disappointment when there were three sets of "classic" Tillett on offer.
The first set opened with a lengthy instrumental piece that kept threatening to turn into "Daybreak's Reprieve" before ultimately resolving itself into "Swimming In The Mirror". Thereafter we were off on that "Trip To Kalu-Ki-Bar" and immersed in the "Sailor's Dream" before being caught in "The Tempest" and abandoning our "Ship Of Dreams" to wind up adrift in a "Liferaft" (I keep waiting to see an interview where someone questions him on his continuing use of nautical/maritime imagery!)
But it wasn't all salt and sea air. We were also treated to old favourites like "Dead End Street in the Lucky Country", more recent songs like "Hold Me" and rarer delights such as "Children Of The Cave", "Midnight Witch" and he even pulled "Persephone's Dance" out of the bag for once - it's always been a favourite of mine and has been aired all too rarely in recent years! The audience sat reverently throughout, applauding after each song but finally breaking into shouts and howls of protest when, towards the end of the third set, Louis announced that he'd played everything he could think of. "Not so!", was the strident response from the audience as titles of songs not yet played were shouted out from all over the room.
Even after granting several of the luckiest (and loudest) requests, Louis was still being pestered to play on, but instead introduced Whitlams front man Tim Freedman, who he said had a new song he just wanted to play... and that is exactly what he proceeded to do. While differing greatly from Louis's vocal style, there was much to appreciate about Mr Freedman's brief impromptu performance, even if a recent review in the Toronto Sun did attack what it labeled his "reedy, high voice" and damned the successful "Eternal Nightcap" album with very faint praise as "not a complete waste of time"... and to think that people have accused me of being uncharitable in some of my reviews!
Still the audience yelled for more, eventually persuading Louis to return to the stage one last time, whereupon he gave us an abbreviated interpretation of "Alligator Wine" and then it was definitely and conclusively time for Elvis to leave the building. Having had a couple of concert snaps come out okay recently (well sufficiently in focus for you to be able to recognise faces), I was emboldened to give it another shot tonight but since I'd rather listen to the music than stuff around with the camera, the shots were only perfunctory and it turned out that I hadn't picked the most flattering angle to be shooting from. Being down at the foot of the stage is good for the concert experience, but not so good for the quality of the photography; another lesson learned.
Between the sets, Louis seemed to be continually besieged by recipients of the free copies of "Cry Against the Faith" asking him to autograph them, so hopefully he left for Germany in no doubt as to his continuing popularity amongst Aussie music fans who haven't had their brains sucked dry by lowest common denominator radio programming. - John McPharlin
