Bunk Lovin' Men: Part 2

Like Dan Kelly and his Alpha Males, Augie March also make an art of deftly navigating their way through sets that veer between aching, tender ballads and more thrashy, aggressive numbers. The fondest memories I have of seeing these guys live are of two shows they did in 2002, just before the release of their second album, Strange Bird. These took place at The Empress and at The Corner. Last Saturday night’s show at The Hi-Fi is also amongst Augie March’s finest.

The main set began with a stunning version of the reflective, regretful “Cold Acre”, quickly followed by Glenn Richards’ ranting on “Just Passing Through.” Scattered among the newer material were old live staples such as “Here Comes The Night” and “There Is No Such Place,” the latter never failing to silence an otherwise boisterous crowd. Hearing these older tunes got me thinking about just how far Augie have come in the last few years and how as their repertoire expands, it might become more and more rare that us gig stalwarts actually get to hear all our old favourites. I sincerely hope that songs like “The Good Gardener”, “The Hole In Your Roof” and “The Moth Ball” don’t become completely redundant.


Between songs there was plenty of friendly banter, and drummer Dave Williams was in good form, trading quips and wry observations with Glenn. Women in the crowd were thoughtfully warned against “turning away in disgust” from long-nailed men who are very likely, guitar players. The blunt, droll style of Glenn Richards’ chatter is somewhat at odds with the singer we hear on “The Night Is A Blackbird”, “Mother Greer” and the gentle, ruminative “Sunstroke House” – complete with piano accordion. Further offerings from Strange Bird included the punchy “Song In The Key Of Chance” and the exorcising “Train.” It sure was great to hear “Brundisium” too – sounding as grandiose and seedy as ever.

The two most enjoyable moments of the night however, came right towards the very end of the encore. Augie were joined on stage by The Alpha Males to sing Neil Young’s “Don’t Cry No Tears”. Standing back and watching the seemingly haphazard arrangement of these ten guys on stage, whilst marvelling at the brilliant result, was definitely a treat. But to my mind, the evening peaked with the ominous and threatening “Clockwork” which concluded the show. Never have I been made to feel so uneasy by a song, and although the vast majority of it was spent gradually building up to its climax, and although I knew what was coming, I wasn’t quite prepared for the final blast of sound and its ferocity. It was like playing many notes on a piano and holding down the pedal. As my teacher used to describe it, “You can hear the instrument filling up with sound.” Even that statement only goes a small way to describing exactly what this version of “Clockwork” was like.

The thing that really struck me (and everyone else) during the show was how relaxed and happy the band were, and the apparent lack of any technical glitches which frequently plague them. The often grimacing, finicky and sometimes petulant Glenn even managed to muster a few smiles and appeared less concentrated and fraught than he usually is. I personally wouldn’t want to dwell too long on what the cause(s) of the spring in his step is, but if it’s contributing to shows as rich and inspired as this one was, then I hope our Glenn remains happy and content for a long time to come.