AINSLIE WILLS @ Northcote Social Club – April 24th

The last time I saw Ainslie Wills it had been a cold Melbourne evening at the Toff . I spent many nights last year attending gigs to review and that night sticks out the most. It was when I saw Wills live that I entered true fandom. I’ve been waiting to re-live that night and, tonight, I got the chance.

It’s Anzac Day Eve and Oscar Lush has warmed the crowd up enough for fellow supporting act Spender to take to the stage. They perform a set that includes ‘ Bed and Chair ’ and new single ‘ Never Again ’. Front man Tom Spender keeps things interesting by preparing audio for looping in front of the crowd. Experimentally, he gathers a round of crowd participation, calling for “whoops” and whistles to work into a track. He prefaces the groovy ‘ Magic Man ’ by sharing the motivation behind it. ‘Magic Man’ is for the 70% of women who apparently fake orgasms. Tom Spender includes a guitar solo that suggests he doesn’t contribute to that number.

Earlier today this show sold its last tickets. As the time for Wills draws closer, Northcote Social Club fills out, quietens down and the curtain is drawn to reveal the friendly faces of Lawrence Folvig, Arron Light, Nat Lewis, Jules Pascoe and Wills herself. They’re greeted with a unanimous cheer.

It’s been a couple of months since the release of Wills’ debut album You go your way, I’ll go mine and no doubt tonight’s patrons have had it on repeat just like me. She opens with the chilling ‘ Mary ’, an affecting, enchanting tune where Wills can immediately show off what she does best. She is patient when she sings. Vocals are thick, textured and graceful and she moves slow, gesticulating calmly. The result is transfixing.

‘ Lemon Japan ’ is another that starts gentle but soon warms up with a faster-paced beat that gets Wills twisting and listeners’ heads bopping. Is it just me or does everyone here wear a knowing, privileged smile?

Next are two older tracks from 2010 EP Somebody For Everyone . ‘ Wide Load ’ is met with cheers of familiarity. During the sultry tune, it occurs to me that Wills is the kind of performer who watches you. Her eyes might flutter close as she releases darker motifs, or they might glaze over in concentration as she reaches out and sings to a particular memory, but they just as often stand wide, focused on an audience member’s face. She doesn’t shy away from making connections and it’s what makes her stage presence so engaging. I suspect once she catches you with them you don’t want her to look away.

The set also includes ‘ Weighing the Promises ’, written by Wills and Folvig. It’s a piece written for a short film produced by Like Butter titled ‘Perforation’. Following on from that, Wills explains that ‘ Liquid Paper ’ was written for those relationships that contain two people who struggle to maintain working well together. Hallmark rich lyrics reflect a carefully digested feeling that’s packaged neatly for us into something that’s universally relatable. Vocals flex, stretching in and out of many corners, cool and warm, thick and thin.

A moment of intermission while they perform ‘ Ocean ’: a tranquil ode that builds to an embracing, crashing reverie. Wills gives everything to it and is left kneeling by the end, focused on an inner moment.

‘ Stop Pulling the String ’ instantly injects a dose of energy with an a cappella launch before echoing guitars flick from to and from languid notes and sharp bursts before cascading into a pattern of colourful, plush sounds.

Released as a single last year, ‘ Fighting Kind ’ does something similar. Wills calls out to the crowd asking “what kind we are” and it’s clear what is about to come. Grounded by a thick bass, ‘Fighting Kind’ is a dynamic tune that births something new through its middle, leaving me with the impression that I’ve just heard two melodic interpretations of the same idea, conjoined seamlessly.

‘ Something I Prepared Earlier ’ performs a similar function live to what it does on the album. Tying the themes of Wills’ song writing together it speaks of having no regrets, of deeper haunts and of the power of retrospect.

Appropriately, her band move to join Wills in the middle to perform a softly, stunning acoustic rendition of ‘ This Is What I Write ’.

And suddenly the night is over. Almost. Wills and Folvig are brought back on stage by claps and cheers that refuse to stop. The two songwriters cover Radiohead ’s ‘ Nude ’, something that fits them perfectly. The memory of Ainslie Wills will most likely haunt me until I next get to see her. Until then I’ll have You go your way, I’ll go mine playing in the background, start to end, over and over.

WORDS BY Stef Italia

• 
• 
• 

Comments

Facebook Comments