The Middle East
Kid Sam
Northcote Social Club
Sunday 14th June

The ol' "EP before the album" model is alive and well. On another cold Melbourne night, Townsville band The Middle East play the second of two sold out shows at the Northcote Social Club, on the back of naught but a couple of songs on national radio and powerful word of mouth. Tonight marks the final show of the Recordings of The Middle East EP tour for the young seven piece before they return north for sabbatical, and then on to Splendour in the Grass in July.

First up on the single support bill tonight are Melbourne duo Kid Sam. Who are great. Though the band are relative newcomers to a larger crowd, they don't seem perturbed in the slightest by the full room, nor constant technical hitches. Perhaps it's because the two piece of cousins Kieran and Kishore Ryan have a lot to be confident about. Clever skeletal songs that arrive fully formed, a drumkit festooned with kitchen utensils - a wok here, a tin bucket there - providing captivating percussion, nimble, clear guitar work, and their greatest calling card, Kieren's stunning voice and the intricate stories he uses to show it. The humble cousins receive high praise tonight from the hushed crowd and despite avoiding a handful of the strongest tracks from their recent debut album, it's never less than gripping stuff. After the show more than one associate mutters that the billing was the wrong way round.

But that depends on which side of the converted you stand. Despite a murky history involving a collection of songwriters, break ups, and reformations, in their short time in the public eye The Middle East are on something of a wave right now. Thanks to Spunk records re-releasing their independent 2008 EP, subsequent support from Triple J and the ensuing legions of doe-eyed, ruffle haired fans raising their skinny fists like antennae to heaven. The attraction is obvious. Accomplished musicianship, gorgeous voices (in particular the spooky soulfulness of co-frontman Jordan Ireland), evocations of widescreen grace and...doe eyes and ruffled hair.

Still, something niggles. The Middle East's great appeal is the ease with which they sweep you into their rousing haze, their melancholy wanderings that stretch on attractively, impervious to time. Standout tracks 'Blood' and 'The Darkest Side' elicit whoops from the crowd before deathly silence as Jordan's nimble fingerpicking, the band's exquisite sharing of vocals and sparse instrumentation unfolds expertly, building into triumphant hymns that would have Arcade Fire nodding in sympathy. Evocative instruments - banjo, accordian, trumpet, flute, organ/piano, acoustics - swell around the essential guitar, bass and drums set up to create an air of majesty. Cinematic folk. Dark and light. BIG THINGS.

But at points they break this spell, veering into pastoral hokiness or overt drama tinged with almost comical earnestness. Vocal tics. Clenching. Physical exhortations that mean to convey an excised possession rather than an actual reaction to the sound being created. One can't help but wonder if in the conjuring of some spirit - and gosh they do it well - that they rely too heavily on conjuring the spirit. If their drive is also their folly. Which would be a shame because the stirring, glowing music of The Middle East doesn't need such wooden signposts to make believers out of us.

(Pics: Tim O'Connor)