Reviewed at the Factory Theatre on Sunday April 9
Less than a month since they were last in town supporting the delightful Martha Wainwright, Melbourne duo Oh Pep! are back in Sydney. As a result of the close proximity, it’s business as usual for the alt-country/folk outfit, performing more or less the same mix of songs from their Stadium Cake LP as last time around. Still, to borrow a phrase from Megadeth, business is good: the two have an incredible knack for tessellating their vocals in just the right way that the harmonies get as close as possible without getting into bloodline territory.
While guitarist Olivia Hally holds down the solid foundations and conventions of the genre, violinist/mandolin player Pepita Emmerichs is there to swiftly throw them out the window by means of beautiful contrast. Let the record show that there are remarkably few players out there that can certifiably shred on a mandolin the way that Emmerichs can – it’s her inventive and masterful playing that truly elevates the music of Oh Pep! from pleasantries to par excellence. The duo will be back again within a matter of weeks to be one of the final acts to play at the inexplicably departing Newtown Social Club. ’Til then.
With 15 albums and a 16th on the way next month, The Mountain Goats would realistically have to play double the length of your average Springsteen show in order to get through everything and please everyone. With this in mind, let’s address the fact that tonight’s set – even at nearly two hours – didn’t get around to many of their best-known songs (‘Dance Music’, ‘Going To Georgia’, ‘Woke Up New’ and ‘See America Right’ among them). But absolutely none of that mattered in the slightest.
A Mountain Goats show is exhilarating catharsis – a raised finger to accompany a raised voice; a rock’n’roll extravaganza for the introverted and bespectacled. It’s life lessons via professional wrestling and Super Mario. It’s wolves, brothers, step-fathers, vampires, goths and absolutely no children. It’s Jon Wurster beating his kit like it owes him money, while Matt Douglas somehow works his way across every conceivable instrument while being virtuosic on all of them.
It’s life-affirming, death-defying, heart-wrenching and endlessly endearing. It’s love, love, love. You get the picture. The rest of 2017 has a lot to live up to gig-wise if this is the yardstick.
