The Chills

Melbourne audiences seem to have a strong affinity for bands from New Zealand’s legendary Flying Nun label. Maybe it’s the cooler climate here, maybe it’s just that this town is a haven for music fanatics of all stripes. Either way, the buzz running through the music community had been palpable for weeks and The Chills’ first Melbourne show in 18 years sold out well in advance.

This of course did not guarantee that people would show up early to catch opening act East Brunswick All Girls Choir. They are still a young band, but their set shone with the epic grandeur and self-effacing humility that was once the province of Art Of Fighting. Their mastery of light and dark was quite stunning, but possibly not what Chills fans were hoping for at this early stage of the evening.

Guy Blackman put together a solid backing band for this occasion, featuring Mark Monnone (ex-The Lucksmiths) on bass, Geoff O’Connor (Crayon Fields) on guitar and Julian Patterson (Kes Band, Minimum Chips) on drums. Seated at his vintage electric organ, Blackman embraced his frontman role, delivering a set that recalled the classic ’60s songwriting style of Burt Bacharach and Hal David. Blackman would even have been right at home in the Brill Building hit factory. The band added a nice garage rock edge to his often melancholic lyrics, and Blackman was clearly relishing the chance to support one of his heroes, Martin Phillipps of The Chills. As he told the audience, Phillipps was one of his first interview subjects as a teenage fanzine writer in Perth.

Anticipation started building during changeover, as Chills devotees wormed their way to the front of the curtained off stage. When the curtain finally lifted, a deep sigh went through the crowd as the band launched into a lovely rendition of ‘Night Of Chill Blue’. The sound was crystal clear, but Phillipps’ hired amp gave up the ghost early in the set, and a bit of momentum was lost as the singer took the opportunity to introduce the band, read out a list of thanks, and bantered with the audience, as amps were repeatedly swapped.

Amplification problems sorted, The Chills played a clutch of old favourites, blending seamlessly with a smattering of songs from the more recent Stand By EP. The current line-up of the band is probably the most stable group of musicians assembled under the Chills banner for a long time, and it showed. Long-time drummer Todd Knutson and bassist James Dickson were formidable. Like The Bats’ Paul Kean, Dickson attacked his strings with a fierce energy, but still conveyed the subtlety of the tunes.

Multi-instrumentalist Erica Stitchbury added some lovely violin parts, and often doubled on keyboards with Oli Wilson. All of this layered instrumentation added up to a big and luscious sound, but never distracted from Phillipps’ intricate guitar parts and mellifluous voice. What really became clear in a live setting was just how masterfully The Chills’ songs are constructed. While being pop songs at heart, they’re often made up of highly complex melodies, odd little minor key parts and rhythmic quirks that are highly sophisticated.

There were appreciative shouts of recognition at the instantly recognisable opening chords of such classic songs as ‘Pink Frost’, ‘Wet Blanket’, ‘Part Past, Part Fiction’, ‘I Love My Leather Jacket’, ‘Heavenly Pop Hit’ and ‘House With A Hundred Rooms’. For the true nerds, they even pulled out a rousing version of a very early garage stormer ‘I Saw Your Silhouette’, from the Secret Box collection of rarities and demos.

As a result of the equipment problems, the encore was severely truncated, but there were no complaints as the band did a very convincing take on the old Cat Stevens number ‘Matthew And Son’ and wound up with a driving rendition of their second single ‘Rolling Moon’.

While nobody could fault the quality of the songs played, The Chills could easily have played for another hour and not exhausted Phillipps’ catalogue of classics. As a consolation, the clearly chuffed singer promised to return as soon as possible and make up for lost time. He definitely proved that The Chills are still a crucial band, whose heyday is far from over.

by René Schaefer