On a normal night, it’s a long way to Thornbury. The shiny lights and the buzz of High St, Northcote are distractions that pull dedicated punters away from distant suburban destinations, however tonight there is something special that calls followers of high-brow lyrical entertainment from far and wide. Gareth Liddiard, lead singer for living-legendary local band the Drones, is to play his second consecutive show to launch his debut album Strange Tourist, after his first last night sold out. As the last-minute crowds ascend the marble staircase of the Thornbury Theatre, the room’s atmosphere is pregnant with expectation. Strange Tourist is a sparse, haunting, lyrically brilliant album, and tonight Liddiard’s audience is in for a faithful reproduction, most likely with a few yarns thrown in.
He follows the album’s structure “from go to woe”, starting with the delicious Blondin Makes an Omelette, followed by Highplains Mailman. The 400-strong crowd sits mesmerised, and the genuine applause that follows each song is a fitting tribute to an artistic genius, even if an eager punter takes it a step too far – “Tapping on a glass? What are you, the fucking king of England?” After half an hour, aka three Liddiard epics, one realise that this is the kind of gig that should he play until sunrise, every seat would still be full when breakfast time comes.
Supported by crystal clear sound quality throughout the night, Liddiard is calm and confident, relaxing on his seat as though he is playing in a dimly lit lounge room in front of half a dozen of his closest friends. The honesty and forthrightness of his words, paired with the personal nature of his guitar playing, creates an intimacy with every person in the room. Liddiard’s poetic lyrics have been well-known in these parts for many years now through his work with the Drones (a fun game throughout the evening is Drone-Spotting – identifying Messrs. Noga, Luscombe & Miss Kitchin in the crowd), but stripped back to a man and his acoustc, it is truly a memorable show. After closer The Radicalisation of D Liddiard leaves the stage, only to shortly return armed with a trifecta of Drones tunes Super Cargo, Locust & Jezebel. The night is over after 2+ hours of brilliance, and the royal nature of the Theatre is truly evident. Suddenly Thornbury seems a whole lot closer to everything.
