Live Review: Gold Fields, KLP

It was 9.30pm at Amplifier Bar as Sydney singer, DJ and producer KLP (that’s Kristy Lee Peters) took the stage before an ever-building crowd.

After beckoning us all in closer, creating a cosy atmosphere, the percussionist proceeded to knock us back with some crisp beats. KLP’s soaring vocals were the centre-piece of the whole experience, however, starting us off with Recover, a collaboration with Melburnian rapper REMI. Her cover of the rap was more than passable and energised the lethargic crowd who, up until then, seemed tentative. Solid followed, it’s upbeat, electronic drum‘n’bass coupled with KLP’s strong pop voice and vocal acrobatics a perfect match and serving to turn the trickling increase of patronage into a tide, the space quickly filling to near capacity. Her requests between songs to come closer were eagerly obliged and then rewarded with Medicine, another gem of electro-pop that had the punters pulling shapes erratically. KLP finished their set with the infectious Air, which was accompanied by the three-piece’s own cheer-leader-like dance which had KLP’s absurdly long skirt’s tassels flowing like indie-fashion fettuccini.

After a brief intermission Ballarat born quintet Gold Fields began their set. After some brief instrumentals by the drummer and rhythm guitarist the rest of the band ascended the stage inviting back KLP to join them. The band’s psychedelic sound had a brilliant channel through to the now swelling patronage, with KLP’s outstanding vocals merging swimmingly with the band on the track Make Me Feel. Unfortunately this was the peak of the set. As soon as KLP left the band seemed rudderless, frontman Mark Robert Fuller’s constant retreats to the synthesiser doing nothing to inspire the audience. Crowd favourite, Treehouse threatened to bring the disillusioned crowd back onside, with Fuller attending the microphone for long enough for them to feel connected. However it was shortlived, as he went straight back to the electronics. Make no mistake, their sound is well crafted and precise, but it feels a little typical of Australian indie bands who seem to all follow a Tame Impala-like aesthetic. Seeing the band live feels voyeuristic and disconnected, like you’re watching a polished rehearsal rather than the live act, a thought epitomised at the end of the set by Fuller pressing a few buttons on the synth then leaving the platform with the band, the motionless crowd left to watch an empty stage as the song finished.