Live Review: Julia Jacklin, Weyes Blood

Tonight at Melbourne Zoo, among the animal enclosures, lies a sea of picnic blankets, charcuterie boards and Dejour jeans. On stage, Weyes Blood swims through the bulk of last year’s excellent Titanic Rising. Natalie Mering is still learning to translate the grand-chamber pop of songs like Andromeda and Something To Believe from her underwater bedroom to the stage. Some of the elegance of Weyes Blood’s albums is lost in the live setting. Stripped of her studio flourishes, the songs remain impressive soft rock compositions, but many of the sonic details which make Weyes Blood special are missing. Until, that is, the band closes with Movies, Mering twirling, twirling, twirling as the song’s cinematic strings and arpeggiated synthesisers rise to a superb crescendo.

Weyes Blood @ Zoo Twilights. Photo by Renee Coster.

After a short video about protecting the mountain pygmy possum, Julia Jacklin swans on stage in a flowing, floral dress. Alone with her Telecaster, Jacklin regales us with Comfort, the first of many patient and plaintive songs tonight. As her band joins her and ease into Body, the supportive simplicity of this musical backing allows Jacklin’s astute stories and incisive lyricism to shine. And lord, what a voice she has. By turns smoky and syrupy, it’s quite an instrument.

“We’re just playing some songs that I wrote,” Jacklin explains for those who are confused. “That’s what a show is.” These songs include Turn Me Down, which grinds to a complete halt before slowly building from silence to a cathartic climax. All but one band member depart the stage so Jacklin can destroy us with LA Dream, accompanied only by piano. As Don’t Know How To Keep Loving You swells, Jacklin treats us to the distinct pleasure of watching someone shredding a guitar solo in a lovely gown. 

Julia Jacklin @ Zoo Twilights. Photo by Renee Coster.

“This song is about makin’ sweet love... In a sad way,” Jacklin jokes to introduce Good Guy, a description which could apply to pretty much everything we hear tonight. Few contemporary musicians write as perceptively about damaged people who are doing their best but constantly failing. It’s striking to see how deeply songs like Head Alone and Pressure To Party are connecting with this crowd, but how could songs this plainspoken and piercing not resonate? We’re just a zoo full of hipsters gently swaying and pondering our failed relationships.