Live Review: Iron & Wine

There's a massive bar queue and yet another to get into the theatre as punters scramble to take their seats for the first of Iron & Wine's two shows at Melbourne Recital Centre tonight, with its scheduled start time of 6.30pm.

As we take our seats and glance up at the stage, there's a 'cloud formation' that resembles oversized cotton-wool balls dangling from the stage's ceiling, which we're dying to somehow go up and touch to see if they feel as soft as they look. Iron & Wine take the stage, Sam Beam accompanied by four superb musicians, to commence gently with The Trapeze Swinger. When the percussionist has a string of bells to manually shake, and also a collection of bells strapped around her calf to stomp, we know they mean business. Beam tells us he actually wrote this song in Melbourne, which makes performing it here extra special.

The quintet cast a magical spell and we treasure every word and instrumental flourish, but Beam keeps making remarks about how silent we are as if it's a bad thing (he even says, "Sshhh!" during one song later in the set). We're in a seated venue, fer chrissake, and our reverence is definitely a compliment. Rapturous applause and hollers at the close of each song are ample appreciation, surely. It's hard to pull our focus away from drummer/percussionist Elizabeth Goodfellow who constantly switches sticks and mallets - also picking up a tambourine or string of bells in her free hand when required - to change up the sonic landscape that underscores Beam's captivating voice and lyrical wizardry. She definitely deserves a pay rise, irrespective of how much she already earns. Often percussion or instrumentation cleverly and literally illustrates lyrics, which makes us smile. Jesus The Mexican Boy's lyrics are touching beyond belief ("He never wanted nothing I remember/Maybe a broken bottle if I had two...") and tandem backing vocals from Goodfellow and the pianist elevate their beauty.

After his band leave the stage, Beam performs a couple of songs solo, including a song by The Postal Service, Such Great Heights (which we affectionately label 'The Monet song' due to the lyrics, "Everything looks perfect from far away"). 

Beam forgets loads of lyrics during one song. He chuckles and then audience members laugh and clap, but it's not cute since we'd obviously prefer to hear this glorious storytelling as it was meticulously written. Our Light Miles is a set highlight and we once again relish Beam's lyrics, "No one looks wrong in the rain... Cloud comes our way, so white" - the fluffy set design scoring a direct reference at this point. We're totally invested during Boy With A Coin and the musicians on display here are extraordinary, often smiling each other's way in acknowledgement of the exquisite music they make.

For Iron & Wine's encore, the two female musicians in Beam's band return wearing fake beards and it must feel weird singing backing vocals through these. Our last song of the night, About A Bruise, is just about as upbeat as Iron & Wine get and as the band smile and give their thanks Beam finally seems convinced that we've enjoyed ourselves.