The Smith Street Band at the Lair 29/3/14 - Live Review
- genevavalek
- Apr 3, 2014
- 3 min read
The thumping drumbeat of Smith Street Band’s Sunshine and Technology resonated through the entrance of Sydney’s Metro Theatre and out onto the Saturday afternoon goings-on of George St.
Late, as usual, I bolted up the carpeted steps, and was caught surprised, as I’d literally walked straight into the action just as the lyric that got me hooked on Smith Street Band was shouted - ‘We’re living with each other beside the suicide attempts, car accidents, and all these filthy, fucking cigarettes’. Man, the moment was so perfect that I felt like I was in some 90’s teen film. Utilising the space of The Lair, versus The Metro Theatre’s main stage, meant that Smith Street Band could play a more intimate show. Despite being publicized as an all ages event, a surprising majority of the punters were overage.
Led by front man Wil Wagner, the transitions between songs were legitimately flawless, and proven so by Wil’s cheeky grin and banter as he moved the crowd into pure punk ecstasy. Easing from the likes of Ducks Fly Together, into Don’t Fuck With Our Dreams, and then to the more melodic and musically sensitive Self Control - all taken from the band’s latest EP, it became apparent just how commanding the band was of the atmosphere blanketing the room.
The Smith Street Band demonstrated not only their companionship and ability to communicate with each other, but also, their power to gauge the crowd’s response through the union of the stillest of moments, when everyone just stood and whispered the words to themselves, in contrast to when Wil would cry his poetry into the air with everyone following suit.
Smith Street Band’s anthem and ode to the nostalgia of youth, Young Drunk, was announced as the final song, and so, of course, one bastard in the mosh decided that there was no better way to celebrate than to pick a fight. Ah, the joys of live music. Throughout the song Wil had to pause multiple times to tell the kid to stop, but to no avail. Honestly, I don’t understand how you couldn’t listen to the front man of the band you’ve paid to see, especially if it’s the lovely Wil Wagner, who, even when calling you out, still seems like a bloody gem of a person. There’s no problem with getting rowdy and having a good time folks, but you don’t have to jump someone and make others feel at harm. Simple. Anyways, the kid finally got kicked, and the band picked up playing again just in time for crescendo of the final chorus, to which everyone yelled the lyrics in unison; as both a ‘fuck you’ to the kid, and in pure joy ‘cause its just a damn good song.
Strangely enough, after that little incident, even standing on my own in some dingy back corner, I actually felt peculiarly safe. It’s pretty great being able to trust those musicians who want to keep the peace and good vibes going at their gigs, rather than blatantly ignore any obvious harm in the room. As an encore, a song “definitely not about smoking weed”, Get High, See Mice, forced even the shyest of gig-goers to beam a smile and sing along. In this age, you can tell that it’s a bloody good show when you don’t see a single phone out for the duration of the entire gig. And that’s exactly what happened, for nothing but rowdy times and memories were made which, essentially, is what The Smith Street Band is all about.
Review by Rosie Grady
Photos by Oscar Colman find more here
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