Live Review: Death Cab For Cutie, Hatchie

There is a delicious sense of suspending the outside world, even just for a few hours, during the descent from St Kilda Road to the depths of Hamer Hall. With no phone signal, there is nothing to do but enjoy a glass of red and wait for the house lights to drop.

Brisbane artist Hatchie plays dreamy indie-pop confections that are both as warm as sunshine and wistfully melancholic. Sugar & Spice is a perfect first taste, and Without A Blush shows bite. The set is warmly received by the shadows of early comers who slip through the darkness of the theatre.

Hatchie. Photos by Clinton Hatfield.

During the interval, discussion turns to the curious choice of venue, surely a seated theatre is an odd location for a Death Cab For Cutie show? Funnily enough, later in their set the band will point out the same thing.

Frontman and owner of the swooping bangs that spawned a million emo crush dreams, Ben Gibbard eases into I Dreamt We Spoke Again from Thank You For Today. “Melbourne, what’s happening?” he chirps at the endless rows of seated bodies. “If you feel like standing up and dancing, we’d appreciate it.” While the majority stay down, jubilant pockets of super fans spring up and bop along.

Title & Registration brings back memories of all of those sad-eyed boys with impossibly good hair that dotted this writer's post-high school, pre-grown-up years. Gibbard points out that there are three empty seats in the front row, and cheekily offers them for $100 a pop, before negotiating down to $75 as the show is a quarter of the way through. As several fans sprint down, guitarist Dave Depper cracks that they can leave their seat money in a pile on the stage.

Bassist Nick Harmer begins to plug out the opening riff of I Will Possess Your Heart. While the song has long since been hijacked by 'getting to know the contestants' packages on reality TV shows, as the stage turns a sinister red it takes its rightful place as one of the darkest, creepiest songs of the '00s. Drummer Jason McGerr treats our ears to a masterclass in clean, crisp drum sounds, while Gibbard crashes along on the piano with the deranged elegance of a mad man. In a post #MeToo world, the eeriness of the song is amplified. 

60 & Punk is stunning, sad, and sobering - if you haven't listened to Thank You For Today in full, this is certainly the perfect way to get acquainted with the record. The greatest cheers, unsurprisingly, go to cuts from their adored back catalogue. Cath… sparkles in all of its tragic 'what could have been?' longing, and We Looked Like Giants is a ferocious way to end their set.

There are few memories that will surpass singing along to Gibbard gently strumming I Will Follow You Into The Dark with a couple of thousand others, but if we could all agree to stop hooting and yelling during the quieter parts, that would be great. Transatlanticism is one for the lovers, and the couples in the audience snuggle up for one last dance.

Though the choice of a seated venue may at first have seemed a misstep, Hamer Hall is the finest way to voyeuristically enjoy the minutiae of the band. Death Cab play with such perfect cohesion, they seem at times to be moving as one. The setlist holds the hand of the listener, reflecting on life, love, death, and sobriety. Death Cab For Cutie take us back to our occasionally misspent youth, but also encourage us to find solace in the hard-fought journey into the present.