Dirty Three, Clue To Kalo
Governor Hindmarsh
Thurs 22 June


Getting down to The Gov to see Dirty Three has been a bit of a routine for the past few years. Newer songs have floated in and out of the set. The band's members have gone from shaggy to wild; tonight it's Warren Ellis' mountain-man beard that makes it hard not to stare. Jim White has played harder, and with a bass with which to lock in. Mick Turner's guitar, tonight far too low in the mix, has often been the most unassumingly colourful thing about the band's live sound. Tonight Turner is flanked by Joel Silbersher on bass, freeing up the lanky guitarist to let loose his sublime trademark warbles, flourishes of the wrist, sending waves of tremulous tone past Ellis' always cavernous violin.

Ellis leads the band through several songs from 'Cinder', a few of them seeing him exchange the violin for mandolin. Here Ellis' playing is visibly riffier, and the surrounding players are almost induced to play less freely than they ordinarily might. The result is still Dirty Three playing swooping pub-rock songs, but as the closing cover of Maggie May attested, the mando' brought out a strong Pommy-drinking vibe to offset the white-hot readings of classics Sue's Last Ride and Some Summers They Drop Like Flies.

After a long set and a long encore it was evident that seeing Dirty Three is still a pretty good way to spend a night, with friends, with a loved one. But tonight, even with a remarkably talkative Ellis, my heart fluttered for my favourite songs but my feet ached for the rest. I admire the band for expanding its live palette, but there's a reason so many people arc up when the oldies are aired. You can almost feel the changes in those songs. Your body gets inside White's whirling percussion, Turner's slabs of chordage, Ellis' totemic violin strain. Irrespective of what or how they play, it's a band to which many will return.

It has been a long time since Clue To Kalo has played in Adelaide, and months of touring in the US has radically alleviated its live dynamic. Changeovers were as streamlined as I have seen from the trio, while the stockpile of instruments continues to revolve around Mark Mitchell's amplified bedroom pop songs. Alan Beverley's once subdued percussion now clicks in sweetly with the rays of prerecorded sounds, Curtis Leaver and Mitchell weaving melodies in and out, up and down, through and to the next song.

Lenin Simos