Live Review: Explosions In The Sky, FOREVR

Brisbane's FOREVR having been making subtle waves in our proverbial pond over the last couple of years with their seductive blend of electro-shoegaze-pop, and tonight they appear absolutely thrilled at the opportunity to reach such a large audience as this. And rightly so: it's a near-full house and most have shuffled to their seats in time to get a preview of what these locals have to offer.

They may be down a member, now playing as a three-piece, but their sonic lure is still present. While a more intimate room would likely do their sound and stage presence more justice, frontwoman Sam George-Miller's between-song banter goes a long way in forming a sense of intimacy and connection with the audience. Upon introducing new single, Petrichor, named after the smell of rain, she subtly lessens the divide and power imbalance between stage and audience with some good-humoured self-deprecation as she quips about the pomposity of such a title. The set is inviting and gives enough of a good taste to arouse the curiosity of what the full course will have to offer — promising indeed.

With only three years separating the first three visits from Texan dreamscapers Explosions In The Sky, local fans were undoubtedly left feeling quite blessed by such good fortune. A consistent pattern seemed to be forming and the proximity of the band's return appeared ever-imminent. Move on five years and their return has finally become a reality. In this time, their fan base has swelled considerably in number, meaning tonight is a first for many, thus there is a extra sense of excitement to the anticipation that had long been building. QPAC stands in vast contrast to the respective rock venues and festival stage of their previous visits, but it proves to be the perfect fit for this set in so many ways.

From the very first moment opener Wilderness makes its gentle crawl out of the speakers, this show is absolutely captivating. The precision and clarity are as distinctly remarkable as ever, but their lighting is a whole new joy to behold. They seem to have actually managed to translate some of the majestic beauty of Jacob Van Loom's 8th & Main, the painting which adorns the cover of their current album, The Wilderness, into the visual accompaniment of their show. The band are positioned, front and back, between two long strips containing a vast number of individual lights, which colourfully dance in sensual rhythmic union with the music and splash upon the architecture of the ceiling to tremendous effect.

It's as if the band are caught between two fluctuating veils, at times allowing them to appear less as typical performers and more as spectral forms channelling soundtracks from a distant, and often lonely, place. While their performative movements can still be seen, the lights render them as vibrant gestural sweeps, communicating less about the identity of the performer and more about raw emotion and catharsis. This is the kind of presentation Explosions In The Sky's music has always deserved, and this time they've nailed it like never before.

It's hard to not be completely seduced by every sound that they utter. Catastrophe & The Cure, Logic Of A Dream, Greet Death and First Breath After Coma offer vast terrains of peaks and valleys that forcefully sweep one along for the ride. They ease off on the lighting tricks a little and let the music do more of the talking with The Birth & Death Of The Day and Six Days At The Bottom Of The Ocean, before pulling us into some kind of synaesthetic rainbow wonderland with Colors In Space.

The Wilderness' material seems to offer greater contrast alongside the classics, compared with what the Take Care, Take Care, Take Care material did last time around, which results in a far more dynamic-sounding set. Hearing a gem like Your Hand In Mine next to Disintegration Anxiety is a real treat, and it's strategic decisions like this that really help prevent the band from falling into the traps of monotony all too prevalent in post-rock. This is the kind of set that reaches for the stars and no song does this in a grander gesture than their mandatory closer The Only Moment We Were Alone, which leaves us floating in the ether for long after it departs. An absolute joy to behold.