When people turn their mind to naming musicians who loitered in the St Kilda shadows during the late-’70s and early-’80s, and left these shores to reach a level of acclaim, names such as The Birthday Party, The Triffids and Hugo Race immediately spring to mind. More cerebral gymnastics are required to recall that this list also includes the likes of Crime And The City Solution and Jim Thirwell who spawned such memorable projects as Scrapping Foetus Off The Wheel and Dead Can Dance.
Decades have elapsed since DCD were waging war on the hearing of a generation in the recesses of The Ballroom and Liza Gerrard contributing to From Belgrave With Love. Having fond memories of Microfilm? I thought not. Seeing them now is akin to a religious experience. Nothing peculiar since they have a bent for both liturgical and secular music from the Middle Ages. Gerrard has a voice that is equal parts wavering, fragile and cracked but no less booming and commanding. Vocally, Brendan Perry bears similar features.
As you would expect DCD are low on laughs but display total emotional commitment to their art. Despite early volume problems, DCD were subtle, elegant and complex with their songs. But to be slightly less precious would have been commendable. Nevertheless, despite singing in tongues, you just felt that revelations were encrypted in the words. These remained completely beguiling to the audience who lapped everything up without question. The colourful backdrops added to the aural strokes as a veritable blank canvas came to life.
Multitasking was displayed by support act David Kuckhermann who also assumed percussive duties with DCD. A drummer and three keyboardists completed the band behind the lead duo who played their own instruments. Every song was touchingly crafted, every note an epiphany and DCD were very generous with what they gave. Although audience interaction was minimal. a desultory tale about a limbless Greece, a “We love you” and a hello to a mother was the extent of it. A solid quota of songs from current record Anastasis and a smattering of old favourites satisfied the crowd as they flooded out onto The Esplanade whistling Children Of The Sun, Opium, All In Good Time or Rising Of The Moon. Lets book a date in the next decade then.
BY BRONIUS ZUMERIS
LOVED: Goths, alternative types and mums and dads could all enjoy a concert together.
HATED: Seating scheme.
DRANK: Cider. In a park. With a man wearing a dress and parts of a vacuum.
