Live Review: Soccer Mommy, Phoebe Go, Garage Sale @ The Croxton Bandroom

Even before the first of tonight’s two support bands begins, the room is almost full. It’s been another long, hot day, but there is no hint of lethargy in the crowd of mostly twentysomethings, and energy levels are set to upbeat anticipation.

Local four-piece Garage Sale acknowledges that their inclusion on tonight’s bill is “pretty wild” before proving that they are a perfect fit. Fans of early nineties indie guitar pop will find plenty to like on the band’s 2022’s cassette release, Shimmer, most of which gets an airing tonight (18 February). Opening with the album’s closing track, To Confide, the tone is set with huge, distorted choruses and frequent synchronised dynamic shifts. 

On record, you can hear the influence of UK shoegaze bands; live, it's much more American indie. Songs will dip in volume to make way for Dan Sullivan’s shy, melodic vocals, and it’s an addictive combination, especially when his bandmates join him on the microphone. When the set closes with the band’s latest single, Shoes On, and the unreleased Movie, there is a definite sense of the entire venue being on board, a rare thing for the first band on a three-band bill. 

Some people seem at home on a stage, and it is an instantly relaxing experience to watch them. Phoebe Lou, the fulcrum of four-piece Phoebe Go, is one of these people. Tonight’s set is a glorious mix of songs from the band’s acclaimed EP Player and, as Lou introduces, an unnamed song “that I started writing a couple of days ago”. Opening with The Kid, Phoebe Go’s set is full of radio-ready pop songs that make you wonder why they aren’t already famous. 

The band’s musicianship is almost distractingly good, but it's Lou’s charisma that keeps drawing attention back. When she is humming her way through an unwritten verse or nailing the recent single Be The Player, Not The Poet, we love whatever she’s doing, and there’s no doubt the band leave tonight with new fans.

“We’re Soccer Mommy. Thank you for coming out,” says Sophie Allison. “We’re very happy to be back in Melbourne; it’s been a long time. We’ve got two albums of new material since we’ve last seen you.” True to her promise, tonight’s set is full of tracks from her most recent albums, the lockdown favourite Color Theory, and last year’s Pitchfork-adored Sometimes, Forever. 

Joined by her partner, guitarist Julian Powell, guitarist and keyboardist Rodrigo Avendano, bassist Graeme Goetz and drummer Rollum Haas, Allison’s music is evoked with an almost disconcerting tightness. Songs that you can drift into through headphones – layered, spacious sensitive productions with intimate vocals – are brought to life with Haas’s podium-shaking beats, Goetz’s room-shuddering bass and three guitars. Allison’s stories of physical and mental illness are vividly rendered, and the whole set, from the Portishead-dark of Unholy Affliction to the singalong choruses of Shotgun and Circle The Drain, is oddly euphoric. 

At the microphone, Allison’s face is framed by her ruler-straight hair. As soon as she leaves it, her face disappears behind flailing brown curtains as she hacks away at a guitar, living the cathartic outro of Yellow Is The Color Of Her Eyes and the surging chorus of Don’t Ask Me. “We love you, soccer mother!” a fan shouts to her between songs. She smiles and talks about how she “recently became a mother”, to which the crowd cheers warmly. “To two cats,” she continues. “They’re six months old.” She jokes about missing them so much she could get on a flight right now. 

There is a real sense that the audience feel they know a songwriter as introspective as Allison, and to be caught up in a chorus like "Sedate me all the time / Don't leave me with my mind / Paralyzed / Paralyzed / Crawlin' in my skin" speaks volumes to her songwriting ability. After a solo rendition of early favourite Still Clean, the band return for an encore of the song that introduced her to most of us, Your Dog, a gloriously unifying end to a night that should nourish the heart of anyone doubting the power of a guitar and the well-written song in 2023.