Live Review: Big Thief, Gabriella Cohen, Palm Springs

Fresh from a residency at The Tote front bar, local trio Palm Springs are in fine form; the band's darkly sepia-tinged singer-songwriter fare has shades of Angel Olsen, but with its own delightful idiosyncrasies. The band show off flexibility and dynamics, thanks in part to their steady bassist, whose dependable muscle allows the drums to be their secret weapon, filling space and refusing to adhere to a standard pattern. That's without mentioning the lashings of character singer/guitarist Erica Dunn brings to the team, with dusky vocals and washed-out guitar front and centre.

Gabriella Cohen begins her set solo, ushering people towards the front of the room with a wry smile and a toe-tapping country guitar lick. She calls up her band members one by one, beginning with violinist/guitarist Kate Dillon, whose countermelodies and backing vocals add depth without compromising intimacy. A drummer and bassist soon follow and the full-band sound continues to ably complement Cohen's charismatic, Lou Reed-like speak-singing. The band's enjoyably rootsy, lo-fi Americana (or "coma-pop" as she describes it) is spiced up by frequently surprising-but-never-unwarranted vocal and guitar effects, which add unique colour to the already-vibrant songs. The band have groove to spare, but it's Cohen's constantly charming presence and delivery that captivates.

All of a sudden, it's time for Big Thief: the beloved folk-rock quartet from Brooklyn who hit our shores for their debut Australian tour. The band waste no time tearing into a generous set, comprising most of their debut album as well as a healthy amount of brand-new songs. In lieu of familiarity, the audience is spellbound by the twists and turns of the new ones, some of which are apparently only a few days old. One such song, a fragile little ballad, is played mostly unaccompanied by vocalist Adrianne Lenker as if the band haven't even heard it yet.

Directly after this moment comes crowd favourite Masterpiece, its high energy chorus and wonderfully wonky guitar solo an indisputable highlight, but the band wisely leave space for plenty more songs afterwards. The irresistible light and shade of Real Love is punchy as hell with its searing, show-stopping instrumental break, while Paul twinkles along with effortless restraint. A truly breathtaking performance — balancing nuanced subtleties of heartache with spirited, uplifting warmth — that's somehow simultaneously delicate and endlessly potent.