The Cat Empire's Domain is Sydney
January 11th 2009 01:53
When I was bored on NYE in Brighton, I searched to see if a dream of mine would come true. I have longed to see this band play at St Kilda Beach. Alas, an internet search proved in vain. The Cats were not out to play on the Espy, and it seemed the keyboard player and Harry, the lead singer and lead trumpet, had become Jackson Jackson. Alas, no gigs for either outfits.
However on the long drive up the Hume on Thursday, I was blown away to discover the Cats would be at the Sydney Festival!!! So tonight, like many others, my daughter and I hopped a train to Martin Place for opening night. No point going with the husband. He once slept through a John Butler concert. Our daughter, however, likes the Cats and knows their songs.
Summer in Sydney is a strange place. The rush and lack of eye contact is replaced by languid days, beachwear in any context, and public alcohol consumption. We can add travelling games of Twister to the list. It would have seemed a bit like some trendy art installation, were it not for the cans of UDL, brown bottles of liquid amber, and blonde hair, eyeliner and short shorts. On City Rail, on a trip from Sutherland, it was more like how a Cronulla riot might get warmed up.
We disembarked to find an unconscious young female, suspiciously familiar to the ones aforementioned, held in the recovery position by a world-weary City Rail employee whose expression seemed to suggest she realised it was going to be a long night. We crossed paths with a few youngsters from our "Haven Cove", who I can only presume had parental permission to be going out in the city at 8pm on a night which had the potential to get very ugly. I pray they get home in one piece.
We eventually slithered to within 100metres of the Domain Stage; Grace upon my shouders, when we saw a friend from church. We may have cramped his style a bit, but that was probably a good thing. After we left he caught up with other church friends, who were also Grace's Sunday School leaders, who lamented that it was only yesterday that she was knee-high to a grasshopper, etc. They seemed corporately relieved that we were off home; probably more from a concern for their youthful freedom than our welfare.
But the Cats were their usual awesomeness. We missed a fair bit of the set, arriving when they covered Paul Kelly's "Dumb Things". The St Kilda synapses were firing in my mind. Perhaps that was their way of echoing his sentiment; "I'd give you all of Sydney Harbour, all that land and all that water, for that one sweet promenade". Harry certainly looked like he'd rather be elsewhere, resplendent in blue Bonds truckie singlet, with a full beard and belly. His voice was sublime, however, and his hornplaying was as good as ever.
Felix and the DJ didn't do the dance, either, which I'm sure disappointed any ladies closer to the stage than I. The Cats have moved on from their dependence on Felix being the drawcard, with Harry's vocals being the lure for the obviously loyal following... we were not the only two who left the Domain after their set (and I'm sure it wasn't just the apple-picking moves of "The Sydney", nor its lemmings, that chased away the crowds... could someone please tell the choreographer that in Sydney, we get our apples from the supermarket, not the tree?). He is a remarkable artist. Their covers were awesome; particularly their francophonic "L'Hotel California". The Cats' sensuality no longer needs to depend on Felix's Mr Burgstrom-like "semitic good looks", or songs referring to Felix's bulging pants. They just need to let Harry rip, vocally or blasting that horn, even if he is in a truckie's singlet. But certainly, let Felix keep doing his thing. It brings "a little cheeky smile" to many a lady's lips. "Hello, Hello" wouldn't have fallen flat with the crowd, if they had chosen to play it. But there were enough faves like "Two Shoes" and "The Car Song" to keep the fair weather fans happy, and enough Harry to entertain the real ones.
The Cats will tour later in Summer. Very, very worth seeing.
Here's a link to a couple of pics of the hirsuit Harry and his horn.
Your text goes here
However on the long drive up the Hume on Thursday, I was blown away to discover the Cats would be at the Sydney Festival!!! So tonight, like many others, my daughter and I hopped a train to Martin Place for opening night. No point going with the husband. He once slept through a John Butler concert. Our daughter, however, likes the Cats and knows their songs.
We disembarked to find an unconscious young female, suspiciously familiar to the ones aforementioned, held in the recovery position by a world-weary City Rail employee whose expression seemed to suggest she realised it was going to be a long night. We crossed paths with a few youngsters from our "Haven Cove", who I can only presume had parental permission to be going out in the city at 8pm on a night which had the potential to get very ugly. I pray they get home in one piece.
We eventually slithered to within 100metres of the Domain Stage; Grace upon my shouders, when we saw a friend from church. We may have cramped his style a bit, but that was probably a good thing. After we left he caught up with other church friends, who were also Grace's Sunday School leaders, who lamented that it was only yesterday that she was knee-high to a grasshopper, etc. They seemed corporately relieved that we were off home; probably more from a concern for their youthful freedom than our welfare.
Felix and the DJ didn't do the dance, either, which I'm sure disappointed any ladies closer to the stage than I. The Cats have moved on from their dependence on Felix being the drawcard, with Harry's vocals being the lure for the obviously loyal following... we were not the only two who left the Domain after their set (and I'm sure it wasn't just the apple-picking moves of "The Sydney", nor its lemmings, that chased away the crowds... could someone please tell the choreographer that in Sydney, we get our apples from the supermarket, not the tree?). He is a remarkable artist. Their covers were awesome; particularly their francophonic "L'Hotel California". The Cats' sensuality no longer needs to depend on Felix's Mr Burgstrom-like "semitic good looks", or songs referring to Felix's bulging pants. They just need to let Harry rip, vocally or blasting that horn, even if he is in a truckie's singlet. But certainly, let Felix keep doing his thing. It brings "a little cheeky smile" to many a lady's lips. "Hello, Hello" wouldn't have fallen flat with the crowd, if they had chosen to play it. But there were enough faves like "Two Shoes" and "The Car Song" to keep the fair weather fans happy, and enough Harry to entertain the real ones.
The Cats will tour later in Summer. Very, very worth seeing.
Here's a link to a couple of pics of the hirsuit Harry and his horn.
Your text goes here
| 49 |
| Vote |
