Live Review: The Wombats

The drenched and freezing Hobartians who huddled into City Hall on Tuesday night were first treated to two brilliant support acts as they breathed warmth into their hands. 

Local singer-songwriter Jed Appleton cut a cinematic and isolated figure on the cavernous stage, smoke illuminated above between the crossing spotlights. Normally Appleton is fresh off a new release – this time, fresh off the birth of his first son Rocco (congratulations!). 

Appleton’s performance bled with emotion, vacillating between longing and rage - in moments even ominous in tone, with sharp, harsh strumming reminiscent of an Irish murder ballad. In moments, Appleton sunk into his guitar and rocked back and forth so violently he seemed set to launch off the stage - his stage energy best described as a beautiful exorcism. During Home and Too Scared, screaming vocals dropped into pregnant silence to accentuate Appleton’s evocative and affecting lyrics: "Are you too scared of failure/Just like everyone else?". 

Appleton closed with two covers. The first, Miley Cyrus’ Wrecking Ball, had friends serenading each other - and for a perfect finish, Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah. People swayed their phone torches side-to-side, and Appleton departed to strong applause and whistles.

Indietronica duo Sumner made an immediate impression with their warehouse chic of all black with high-vis strips, hyping up the crowd with a timely cover of Kate Bush’s Running Up That Hill. The track paired perfectly with Sumner’s brand of deep house - the thumping bass and bright synths orchestrated by Jack McLaine leaving space for Wilson’s yearning vocals. The Launceston natives make music to get lost in - and the production was at times claustrophobic, diving deeply into grief, rumination and isolation in Pictures. The release of that tightly-wound energy in tracks like the euphoric tropical-dance hit, South, felt all the more freeing. 

The set took a welcome turn into the weird, with McLaine donning a decorated balaclava while Wilson surveiled the crowd with a camcorder - through a hard electro-punk track. Wilson had described Kate Bush’s song as a vision of a world where men and women can thrive once power imbalances have been healed - an apt message from a duo whose creative strengths bounce perfectly off each other. This fit with their closer Stranded, too – with lyrics like a desperate cry for peace through a volatile relationship. By comparison, the duo ended the set crouched together and then arms around each other’s shoulders, to warm applause.

It’s been 15 years since The Wombats released their first LP, but their deafening reception made it clear their hype has hardly died down. They dove straight into Flip Me Upside Down - a colourful dance punk banger with an urgent anxiety. Drummer Dan Haggis grinned as he laid into his kit atop a Rubik's Cube stage, and the crowd was immediately jumping. Classics like Moving To New York, Jump Into The Fog, Tokyo (Vampires And Wolves) and Kill The Director frenzied the crowd each time, but the highest points of the set came during the grungy and raucous jams littered throughout. Drowned in a white strobe, the crowd would bob around wildly in a sea of arms and banging heads.

The Wombats’ brand of escapist poptimism felt perfect for the time, and with enough space to enjoy a boogie with friends, the crowd certainly made the most of it, feeding off the energy of bassist Tord Knudsen as he span around the stage. Fix Yourself, Not the World as an album is a welcome and eclectic reinvention – but lead Matthew Murphy has lost none of his sardonic and darkly funny lyricism that so starkly contrasts with their vibrant brand of poppy brit-rock. Take the new-wave Doomer anthem Everything I Love Is Going to Die - a joyful acceptance of the absurdity and arbitrariness of life.

The pop-rock earworm, If You Ever Leave, I'm Coming With You, brought with it a Wombat mascot in a racy, red nightgown pretending to play a plastic trumpet during the horn sections. Murphy joked with air quotes that Greek Tragedy was going to be their last song. A thunderous stamping of feet and shouts demanded an encore and Let's Dance To Joy Division brought two Wombat mascots on stage for a silly finale, while Murphy joined the crowd and stood like a conductor right in front of the gate to ear-piercing cheers and choruses. Exhausted but elated, the crowd chanted out the nostalgic Turn with their friends and even strangers - a wonderful denouement, like gently coming down from a high. The crowd was left plenty warm to find their way home in the freezing night.