Small bandrooms can be treacherous terrain. The experience of bearing your heart where you can see every awkward shift and joyful tear; it’s equal parts rewarding and waking nightmare. For Stella Donnelly these lands are her domain; when she steps on stage she brings with her a confidence and charm that gives everyone around her a faint glow. It was an absolute privilege to experience.
Smaller gigs always betray a sense of intimacy, regardless of the content. The dimly lit room with the crowd sat scattered, gave new life to Frances Fox’s brand of jangly, slightly scrawny pop. It’s forever a joyful, endearing experience that far overweighed the at times harsh mix. Fox’s charm shone through the noise, anchoring us to a common and ultimate good.
If Frances Fox are the handwritten notes slipped under your door, RVG is the no-knock raid on your senses. How Romy pulls off that emotional tidal wave with such consistency is beyond the capacity of our understanding. With no setlist to guide her, she wound her way through material both new and old, a freeform excursion into the mind of one of Melbourne’s most promising songwriters. Her performance was tumultuous, always building on itself, and what she lacked in numbers she made up for in bravado and sheer ferocity. These are the kinds of gigs this room was built for. She held the audience in the palm of her hand and we were all the better for it.
Whether a quirk or a deep seated cultural flaw, Australia has a long tradition of adopting successful people from within our sphere of influence. This influence is insidious and holds true even on a small scale. Victorian influence often dominates the national music culture, that’s what makes voices like Stella Donnelly’s so incredibly refreshing and exciting. That’s why if you had been able to see the room through a window you would have seen a hundred silent faces all focused on a small, singer/songwriter from the western suburbs of Perth.
Donnelly brought the same sense of intimacy, vulnerability and resounding wit that’s made us all fall in love with Thrush Metal to her live performance. The shorter, newer material showed a more light-hearted but no less genuine side of her: songs about gambling advertising, awful tinder dates, even something resembling an actual love song. They’re all unmistakably her. You could hear the smile forming in the corners of her mouth; it was one of those shows where all you wanted to do was close your eyes and drift away but you found yourself unable to look away through fear of missing something. It cemented the context of Thrush Metal while at the same time continually building on it.
To see Stella Donnelly live was to confirm a long held suspicion: that her heart is physically and viscerally connected to her guitar. If you get the chance, do not hesitate to witness one of the West’s brightest stars.
Highlight: The small releases of exhaustion from Stella during Mechanical Bull. They’re so genuine.
Lowlight: The night wasn’t long enough.
Crowd Favourite: Mechanical Bull.
