PERTH FESTIVAL REVIEW: Aldous Harding delivers a celestial performance
If we were to personify the universe with all her boundless knowledge and memories and propose that she had birthed some incarnate being, perhaps the origins of Aldous Harding could be explained. It felt somewhat surreal to see her in the physical realm for Perth Festival for some reason; this eternal-souled storyteller who had gently accompanied me on many a restless night of study at Uni, and the febrile rush of the Mitchell Freeway late at night, a sandwich of gravel and life and space.
The opening number, ‘Living the Classics’, a dreamy portrait of possibility and fantasy swirled together was a beautiful, silence-rendering choice to cut through the balmy Perth evening. Aldous appeared with little fanfare, drama or costume, and let her intricate solo guitar-work and haunting vocals transport us into the cosmic vacuum of her music.
The band first joined for ‘Designer’, the titular track of her album released last year. For me, the quality of the live instrumentals was a consistent highlight across the night; the added dimension that brought out a lot of the genre spanning, incredibly versatile character of Aldous Harding’s music on record was exemplified upon the Chevron Lighthouse stage.
Harding’s stage presence was largely muted and mysterious—but you can’t help but think, how could it possibly be anything else? She is utterly non-conformative and unapologetic. Her poetic lyricism and sheer performative energy feels like a deep, revealing conversation in itself— though careful listening is a requirement.
One of my favourites, ‘Damn’, cradled by a lulling syncopated piano motif, weaves a cutting story of a disintegrating love affair in its lyrics over the top of the unsuspecting soundscape of breezy afternoon music. “Sorry I was late and you didn’t get your weekend”, Harding croons like an afterthought whose emotional charge hides underneath the surface; a played-back message on an answering machine. ‘Treasure’ was another highlight of mine, as was ‘What If Birds Aren’t Singing, They’re Screaming’ (I’ve wondered the same thing) and of course, the rustic musings of the widely acclaimed track ‘The Barrel’.
Comparisons of other artists are found dotted across the internet: Patti Smith, Lorde, Joni Mitchell, Bjork—but I don’t believe these do the immersive quality of the live Aldous Harding justice. A tracheotomy into the mundane, it was almost relieving to be caught in her performative gravity, transforming the human experience into celestial wonder.
