Not Even Close

The beauty of going to see anything involving either of the Finn brothers is sitting back and admiring the sheer breadth of their fan base. You’ve got your middle-aged people that have followed their progress from the very beginning of Split Enz, those who grew up in the ‘80s and discovered them via Crowded House, those who (like me) discovered them via Crowded House in the early ‘90s and for a long time thought it was “uncool” to even like these old dudes when everyone else was listening to Bon Jovi (!), and even those who are still in the process of discovering them now. Having never seen Tim Finn perform on his own before, I was really looking forward to seeing him and his band last night at The Forum.

Although he’s no spring chicken, Tim is a treat to watch and full of energy. He’s without a doubt at his best when he removes his guitar and it’s just him and the microphone. It’s worth the price of the ticket alone just to see him running up and down on the spot, flailing his arms, and if you’re lucky, playing the piano with his bum. I’ve been lucky enough to see Tim and Neil a few times together, and although Neil will always be someone who I hugely admire and whose songs filled my head throughout my high school years, because of his sheer charisma, unbridled enthusiasm and magnetism, Tim very often steals the show from his more reserved sibling.

Tim once said in a radio interview that there’s such a huge legacy of songs that performing live is a bit like dipping into a “big basket of apples. Which one shall I have today?” The set covered a lot of his most recent material, such as the infectious “Couldn’t Be Done” (once you’ve listened to it once or twice, it embeds itself into your head), the cheery “Still The Song” and the heartfelt “Salt To The Sea” (its beauty being that it’s so understated, but if you listen closely enough to the words, its meaning is unmistakeable). Predictably though, the most enthusiastic reception was reserved for older gems like the buoyant “Weather With You”, the manic “Shark Attack” – complete with Tim’s theatrics, and the edgy “Dirty Creature” and “Poor Boy”. In keeping with the nautical theme that sometimes pops up in his songs, the newer and resigned “Unsinkable” gently led into an initially subdued version of “Six Months In A Leaky Boat”.

Unlike some performers that clinically get on with the show, Tim is always happy to slow things down and leisurely engage in some banter. At the beginning of the first encore, he sheepishly came back on stage and declared that he was supposed to go off on the opposite side. “That side’s where everything’s happening … all the towels and drinks …. this side is just cold and dark and … weird.” To my mind, the finest moments of the show occurred quite late in the evening. “Not Even Close” which opened the first of two encores, was mesmerising – and it’s rare for me to be completely taken in by a number when I haven’t even heard it before. But the blistering version of “I See Red” was the one that finally got people in the crowd on their feet and shamelessly singing along. Tim prancing around, venomously spitting out words like “Squeezed me out of your life/Down the drain like molten toothpaste/I feel used and spat out/Poor ... old … me ...”

Last night’s show got me thinking about a quote I read recently. It was something along the lines of the music that you listen to in your most formative years being the stuff that you’ll stick with, and keep coming back to for the rest of your life. Not sure if it’s strictly true or not, but it sure is a nice idea.