Live Review: Marlon Williams @ The Enmore Theatre

In darkness, a figure saunters onto the stage. A hint of his white undershirt catches a stray ray of light. He sings with mellifluous tones in his native Maōri, a beautiful, lilting, haunting song. There are no instruments in this arrangement. The purity of acappella meets the purity of the lyric. He closes the ballad as a spotlight coats him in light. He wears a vintage black suit, a guitar readily strapped over his shoulder, and a beaming, charming smile.

“Hello, Sydney!” He reveals himself as Marlon Williams. The audience swoons. “It’s been a while.” Without a beat, he dives into Devil’s Daughter, dispelling the purity of the acappella opening with a sultry solo rendition. The spectral quality of his voice melds with the rhythmic folk structure of the song in a diabolically delightful melange.

He has returned from across the sea after – “How long’s it been? Three years?” – his extensive My Boy tour. His latest LP offering is decidedly more poppy and fun, as he reflects later in the set: “This is a summer record, full of lilting melodies, beachy vibes…you love beachy vibes over here.”

The titular track sparks a whoop from the crowd, with people singing and bopping along (in their seats) to the lyric-less hook. The band seem jovial and beachy to match the vibes until a rock and roll moment in the close of My Boy: “That conga just fell over and smashed Dave’s violin.” This becomes a motif of the set, with the grumpy Dave hiding from the spotlight and Marlon trying to lighten the mood.

He sips red wine and laughs and jokes, but as the set pushes forward, his archness seems to belie a lingering existential fear, encapsulated in his introductions to his songs, particularly the recalling of the infamous Batavia shipwreck: “I know we’re in 2023 but it’s not that bad. I’d hate to be on the boat this song is written about.”

Williams clearly drew his net wide on the My Boy LP, drawing inspiration from the FX show, The Americans, expressing his stress for the quadruple-agent, Nina in Thinking of Nina and as he said in introducing Soft Boys Make the Grade, “This song is about…ah, I was gonna make something up.” 

As always, Williams seems to show his best in Maōri songs and particularly stirring is the song, Aua atu rā which “I was gonna say translates in English to ‘Que sera, sera’...It basically just means ‘Fuck it’.” This also becomes a motif in the show, as between sips of wine and at moments of tension he echoes that profanity.

Earlier, opener Isabella Manfredi demonstrated the staying power of her pipes through a stylish performance with highlights from her somewhat self-titled LP, izzi, like Jealousy and Naive. The former lead singer of the popular Sydney band, The Preatures and vocal activist for Keep Sydney Open and Women in Music (among many other causes) certainly wowed and presented something that would really pop in a more intimate space.