(((O))) : Live: Caspian in Australia

Any concert is a unique moment in time, a singular experience that ripples through our individual consciousness to be remembered or forgotten in as many different ways as there are witnesses. Hundreds of threads come together to weave a tapestry that then unravels into hundreds of other threads, each unlike any other, to live on as memories and experiences that form part of the next works of art. The tapestry itself will appear different to anyone who sees it, and instrumental music frees the mind to take so much more control over how it appears. Sometimes the harmony between those threads and the balance with which they interact creates a brief shared experience of such beauty and richness that you can almost slice off a small patch of it and hold it in your heart, knowing that your life will now always be better for having been there.   

Up first were local post-rockers Fourteen Nights at Sea, who threaded the first needle with the thread that was ‘Glass Monster’, a slow-boiling and shimmering affair that opens their fine album Great North, and which showcases their skill at creating slow-building tension with enough moments of release just to keep you on the edge of resolution. 

Early signs were that the crowd was there to listen tonight rather than talk, and so another piece of the tapestry was woven in – one of music lovers ready to give their imagination over to the music.   

The tension moved up a notch with the tremolo of ‘Country Victoria’ before a great new tune, ‘House Red’, and by this time the crowd was reaching good strength as they acknowledged the delicacy and precision on stage. ‘Ghost’ shattered the atmospheric tone of the first three songs before dropping back and leading into closer ‘Chiltern Justice’. The deeply textured tracks had created the perfect atmosphere for the night.   

They kicked off with the crescendocore of ‘Room 3327’ with its compounding layers, building drums and explosive guitar that hang off a flowing bass line. ‘Pilot’ from their re-released EP Absence of I provided their trademark chiming guitar and tension in a song that really rocks out before the bass groove led them through ‘Cusp’ and into the new track.  

‘Cursed’ perhaps best sums up the Meniscus sound and provided the screaming conclusion to their set as Dan hammered his guitar into submission against a backdrop of driving bass and drums and the flowing images spread across the back of the stage. The pace had been lifted and the crowd was now at its peak as these threads converged and the picture expanded its depth and colour in preparation for the visitors.   

The intensity gave way to the sprightly bounce of ‘Malacoda’, establishing the interplay between the heavy pull of gravity and soaring lightness as a major theme for the set. What was so staggering was the way Caspian were able to engage in periods of such ferocious intensity without ever losing a backdrop of joy and hope. There was nothing so clumsy as an on-off switch. This took you everywhere at once.   

Digging deeper into the past was the impossibly beautiful ‘Some Are White Light’ from their first album The Four Trees further showing off the richness of sound three guitars and synth can produce as they built to a crescendo that saw Joe Vickers smacking the skins off his kit, and not for the last time. ‘Concrescence’ danced lightly into ‘Gone in Bloom and Bough’ - clearly a favourite from Waking Season with drums pounding out the footsteps of the sludgy march.   

Most instrumental bands indulge in little or no verbal communication with the crowd, and in that context Philip Jamieson was a veritable chatterbox as he thanked punters for coming and heaped praise on the venue. By contrast chatter on the floor was virtually nil – there’s a reasonably-sized underground following of post rock in Melbourne who turn up to hear the music rather than talk, and I can’t overstate how much that contributed to the night as a whole. At one point Jamieson invited everyone to hang out with them after the show – “It’s Friday and back home on Fridays we like to relax and hang around after the show and talk with you guys” (or words to that effect).  He also told us that they would be back in Melbourne the minute they had finished their new album. Let’s hope they play two nights here on their return.   

Continuing with picks from all three albums with ‘ASA’, ‘Halls of Summer’ (with its sudden cut-off end) and ‘The Raven’, the main set concluded with the trilogy from their debut You Are the Conductor EP – ‘Quovis’ / ‘Further Up’ / ‘Further In’ – Jamieson acknowledging those who had been there with them at the start. Returning for a single encore, Caspian launched in to ‘Sycamore’, and instead of ending with the post-rock standard of fading pedals, they went out with a volcanic eruption of drums and loops as they lay down guitars and took up the sticks beating the absolute fuck out of a cluster of toms that had been sitting there waiting.   

With that they were done, although there was a real sense that without noise restrictions we might have got another couple of tunes. The set had no flat spots and strangely the peaks and troughs didn’t feel like peaks and troughs even though they were clearly there. This was the opposite of verse/chorus which is built around shit bit/good bit/ shit bit/ good bit. This was just great from start to finish and was both intense and uplifting all at once. It wasn’t just that they played louder than they do on record – after all a normally quiet person who yells out is just a person yelling. 

I spoke briefly to Jamieson and asked how they did it, and he pointed out that they were edging towards 700 live performances and yeah, that’s a lot. It shows. It’s the years of experiences that are in the threads they brought with them to weave into the tapestry. And when joined with the threads brought by the other bands and by the great crowd, for a brief moment in time a perfect work of art existed before dispersing into the night.

That’s how it should be.