Marlon Williams, Mike Noga

As the cruise ship delivered dozens of ambling gig-goers to their destination, dozens more lounged on the expansive lawns, wine in hand, soaking up the sun over the picturesque Peppermint Bay.

The stage was cinematically set for support act Mike Noga, with the open plan dining area cleared out, and glass doors opening onto blossoming gardens. Noga took the stage at the smallest corner of the room, where the wooden wall met the white, and a rising perforated steel ceiling lit up with orange and purple - reminiscent of the shrinking room from Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory. 

Noga’s stripped-back bluesy rock, punctuated by a tambourine pedal, was apt for an afternoon set. Sing-song folk-country tracks from The Balladeer Hunter and a Springsteen cover were unremarkable, but carried an Australiana charm, met with applause as seats were quickly filled and people lounged out on the beige carpet. 

Noga introduced his 2016 concept album King, light-heartedly telling the crowd not to run away just yet. Echoes of the rock star entered his performance in Nobody Leads Me to Flames, but without as much bite as the record’s production allowed. Ballad Of An Ordinary Man had Noga reaching for something, wolf-like, with his rustic voice, while "Irish murder-ballad" Eileen was a set highlight with a resigned beauty to the slower tempo, showing off his class as a performer, and was warmly applauded.

As the afternoon shadows covered the lawns, Marlon Williams took to the stage to eager cheers. Williams let his music speak for him, and from the delicate first note of Come To Me, the audience was spellbound. Williams’ sound shone without accompaniment. With more space in the sound for his tenor and falsetto to fill, Williams could show off his songwriting talent and sheer technical ability, and each short song was met with approving hoots. 

Despite the dramatic tension, Williams had a laidback sense of humour, thanking the audience in his New Zealand accent for their cheers to "offset the sheer morbidity of my silence". He laughed, “it feels like I'm in my bedroom and showing you all of my toys.” After Williams removed his overshirt, one audience member shouted, “keep going!”, to laughs and screams from the rest.

Williams can hardly be contained by genre, orbiting smooth grassroots, boardwalk blues, and vintage country folk. Down In The Garden, a B-side from Williams’ Vampire Again single, had a sense of anticipation that had the crowd leaning in in a thinker pose, from heavenly howls, sinking down to silky, deep notes. 

Sharing old-timey country ditties, his tenor struck low like a gong at the end of each line over slow, soft strums. Many stood statuesque under the low hanging leaves of the oak tree, lit up with fairy lights, and grinning as they chanted along to a chorus.

The 27-year-old has come a long way since his first critically-acclaimed LP, with a new home in Australia and the weight of expectation ahead of his 2018 sophomore release Make Way For Love. Williams showed a subtlety uncommon among modern musicians, past the obvious comparisons to Roy Orbison. 

The last verse of Nobody Gets What They Want Anymore delved into deeply personal topics with a bygone sway. Williams carried the audience with him, floating and dreamy, through each line of the despairing tune. 

Piano ballads left some audiences literally slack-jawed, with quivering vibrato, and grief-filled breathy falsetto. An ill-timed "beautiful" escaped from the mouth of one audience member in the second row, but not even that was enough to break the spell.

At his encore, without a stage to hide behind, Williams stood awkwardly in the open and, received with cheers back to the stage, laughed at how he "looked like a fuckin idiot standing over there". As he forgot a line of his Roberta Flack cover, and laughed off a missed chord, the sincerity and absurdity only strengthened the sense of connection the audience felt. 

After an operatic finale of When I Was A Young Girl, Williams was met with a standing ovation, before joining members of the audience out by the river, as the last of the light set.