My first time seeing the bewitching Danish songstress live, with Hamer Hall the perfect setting for her singular, atmospheric, ghost-like chamber pop.
I had no idea Agnes Obel was this popular in Australia. She released her exquisite debut Philharmonics more than fifteen years ago, back when radio play still meant something, but I don’t think I ever heard her songs played on any major stations. Her introspective, melancholic sound clearly resonated enough to build a dedicated audience that turned up to fill a major venue like Hamer Hall. As a massive fan since Philharmonics, I was very excited about this concert and it more than lived up to my expectations.
I arrived early enough to have a good chat with a work colleague who was also attending the concert but bought the ticket separately. I couldn’t kick the habit of indulging in something sweet before a movie or a show, and got myself a vanilla ice cream. My diet starts tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow.
The opening act was a rare instrumental affair from the British cellist and composer Peter Gregson. His moody set included his own works, classical repertoire and, unexpectedly, a re-imagined 360 by Charli XCX. I love cello and Gregson is a beautiful player, but I’ve never been a fan of too much pre-recorded music at a live gig, if you play solo just play solo. My favourite moments happened when Gregson let the cello soar and weep on its own, sans the background electronica and strings.
After an interval and some work gossip, we were back in our seats for Agnes and her band. Red Virgin Soil opened the set and was followed by Fuel to Fire off Aventine, my favourite Agnes Obel song. I did a mental fist pump and as far as I was concerned, the show was in the bag – and it had only barely started. A good chunk of the concert was dedicated to the brand new album, The Meaning of Flowers, more electronically-driven than the previous records but just as gorgeous and cinematic. Despite hearing the new songs for the first time, I had no trouble instantly connecting with the new material.
The stage lighting and visuals were relatively restrained, and augmented by the shadows of the musicians projected onto the big screen, adding to the mysterious, dreamlike atmosphere created by the music and Agnes’ haunting breathy vocals. The entire band was fantastic, but the percussion was easily the standout; I sat close enough to watch the drummer’s hands blur as he worked the kit with perfect precision and dizzying speed.
I didn’t expect Agnes to be excessively chatty, and sure enough she wasn’t, however she did say a few words in her soft charming accent. Like Peter Gregson before her, she mentioned football as the concert was on the Grand Final Day, but since none of the finalists were Melbourne teams, the crowd cheers were few and far between.
For the encore, Agnes and the band performed the crowd-pleasing, piano-led Riverside from her first album, and closed the show with The Curse, another Aventine song. I was very satisfied with the mix of old and new, and the escape into what felt like a different world for an evening.
