Powderfinger
Riverstage, Brisbane
Saturday, 4 September 2010

The Riverstage is absolutely rammed full for the first of five sold-out shows to take place in Powderfinger’s hometown. Following the April announcement that the alternative rock quintet had “said all that they wanted to say as a musical group” with the release of 2009’s Golden Rule, this audience is among the first of a 34-date national tour to witness the band wilfully burning out, not fading away.

The stage production is impressive. Besides the two video screens that flank the stage, there’s also an enormous, semicircular LCD screen behind John Coghill’s drumkit which exhibits some excellent CGI during key tracks. They open with two love songs: ‘Love Your Way’ and ‘Waiting For The Sun’. So begins an artfully-constructed, near two-hour-long set that fulfills its chief role: a celebratory retrospective of an improbably long-lived and successful Australian band, who rose to prominence when the ‘alternative rock’ descriptor still meant something.

The vibe tonight is far more birthday than funeral, and though the conclusive nature of the tour is occasionally touched upon, such sentiments don't seem trite. Throughout the set, there’s no discernible sense that they’re simply going through the motions. You get the feeling that this tour means a lot to the band. And so it should. Theirs is a catalogue built upon an uneasy foundation of questionable prog-rock (their 1994 debut LP, Parables For Wooden Ears), soon abandoned for the more fertile - and commercially palatable - grounds of melodic alternative rock, with the likes of Double Allergic (1996), Internationalist (1998) and Odyssey Number Five (2000).

Seven cuts from the latter record comprise their greatest-hits set tonight; unsurprising, considering how heavily it dominated Australian culture at the time. Odyssey... material still rates among their strongest: yes, the trio of ‘My Kind Of Scene’, ‘My Happiness’ and ‘These Days’ still provokes the loudest singalongs. 2003’s Vulture Street was their most overt rock’n’roll record, yet only ‘(Baby I’ve Got You) On My Mind’ and ‘Sunsets’ complement the set opener. 2007’s Dream Days At The Hotel Existence was a middling take on cinematic rock, and tellingly, it’s only represented via ‘Lost And Running’. The two Golden Rule songs to make the grade - ‘Burn Your Name’ and ‘Sail The Wildest Stretch’ - appear within the first third of the set, which seems at odds with the “most complete and satisfying album” line that Bernard Fanning and the band posited during the announcement of their demise.

Whatever. Including between-album single ‘Bless My Soul’, 18 songs are performed tonight, and there’s scarcely a dull moment. (If I had to pick a couple, they’d be the pair from Golden Rule.) Odyssey... cut ‘Thrilloilogy’ is the band’s favourite to play live, apparently, and it damn well shows - one of their compelling compositions, it finds the band in near-perfect lockstep. Guitarist Ian Haug has a few moments to himself while stretching out the introduction, while midway though the song, Darren Middleton ventures into prog-rock territory with a guitar solo that strays considerably from the recorded version. John Collins’ bass is seemingly bumped up just for this song; apt, as it contains some of his best fretwork. And just before the whole thing threatens to boil over thanks to Coghill’s powerhouse performance behind the kit, it’s all stripped back to a bare-bones piano motif. It’s the set’s best moment.

Following ‘My Kind Of Scene’, the five file off while a peculiar documentary about Yuri Gagarin, the first man in space, is screened. This tactic works through sheer misdirection alone, as most people - myself included - are so absorbed in trying to understand what the fuck’s going on that we don’t notice the band slipping through the crowd to a second, smaller stage located behind the sound desk. As archival footage of Russian dancers intercut with shots of Anthony Mundine boxing in black and white, (which looks awfully familiar), the band step into a makeshift "boxing ring" for ‘Like A Dog’. For a moment, I’m convinced that the venue contains a hidden network of underground tunnels; suddenly, those at the back of the hill are within arm’s reach of the band. It’s an inspired decision, this switcheroo business. ‘Belter’, Internationalist’s surging second track, is the night’s first true surprise. It’s among the grittiest, dirtiest rocking tracks in the band’s catalogue. Fanning leaves the ring/stage afterwards, while the rest of the band run through an energetic instrumental. Then heads shift back to the main stage for Fanning’s acoustic take on ‘Whatever Makes You Happy’, with additional harmonica.

Three massive numbers - ‘Sunsets’, ‘My Happiness’, and ‘Passenger’ - round out the set proper. Coghill misses a beat during the introduction to the former, throwing the band out momentarily; Fanning chastises him at song’s end, to which the drummer remarks that he was getting teary because it’s one of their last shows in Brisbane. The first encore is a true curveball: ‘Capoicity’, a track buried deep within Internationalist. Like ‘Thrilloilogy’, it’s a hidden gem among their better-known material. Fanning shoulders an instrument for the band’s first big single, ‘Pick You Up’, whose triple-prong guitar attack now sounds enormous. They leave the stage after ‘On My Mind’, but there’s a conspicuous absence: ‘These Days’, for which they return one last time to recreate faithfully, and at length. It’s a beautiful note to end on.

So the setlist was largely the same as the tour’s opening night in Newcastle (hat-tip to the tour’s official blogger, Shaun Malseed); so what? Even if it remains the same throughout the 30-odd dates to go, it poses a thoroughly satisfying and convincing farewell.

Andrew McMillen