Live Review: The National & Fleet Foxes @ Riverstage, Brisbane

If you’d told me yesterday that at nine o’clock, Matt Berninger would drag two sound techs and two hundred metres of mic chord behind him through a mosh of thousands all the way up to us at the sound desk, I would’ve laughed in your face. 

But we’re not at nine yet. We’re currently at five-thirty, which for most of Brisbane means the post-work slog home – drinking old coffee, picking up last-minute ingredients again, stewing in the acrid traffic fumes because the BMW in front of you doesn’t know how to merge. Five-thirty for the Riverstage, on the other hand, means an amalgamation of alt-rock and dream pop melodies from Sydney-based artist Annie Hamilton. 

Her trademark aesthetic of “sunshine gothic”, as she puts it, could not have been a more apt description as a series of haunting siren echoes drifted through the speakers and out into the warmth of the summer sunset. That, and the fact a pair of feathered black wings were fitted to her back, transforming her into a dark and avenging angel.

Her newest single, Talk, released this week, is a gritty dreamscape of thick basslines and breathy vocals that lulled the early crowd into a rhythmic sway across the grass. Whirlwind, the last track from her debut album the future is here but it feels kinda like the past (2022), perpetuated this state of ethereal hypnosis, and soon everyone became enchanted disciples of this newly beating yet ageless voice in the Australian music arena.  

When the Fleet Foxes sauntered into the light – nonchalant and blissful in the way one might walk into the dining room for a Sunday family roast – they were greeted with a cacophony of cheers. Opting for the harmonic choral opening of their debut EP’s titular track, Sun Giant (2008), before catapulting the set into an orchestra of lush folk ecstasy, the Seattle natives had turned the stage into a cathedral within a matter of moments. Vocalist Robin Pecknold greeted everyone with a warm hello. “We’re also celebrating Casey Wescott on keys, who is now an Australian resident, so we’re all really jealous.” 

Two of their most successful records, Mykonos and Blue Ridge Mountains, both released in their debut EP and self-titled album (2008) respectively, are a true testament to the Foxes’ ability to ensnare an audience within a story of their own making – a road trip through the Rockies, a road trip along the Great Ocean Road, a road trip to the nearest 7/11 because Krispy Kreme’s are on special. A road trip to anywhere, so long as they are the soundtrack to your misshapen adventure. 

Pecknold took a swig from his water bottle. “It’s just so beautiful out. It’s perfect.” He wasn’t wrong, yet there was still one thing that could’ve made it better, and that was to play White Winter Hymnal. And then they did. 

The screens flashed to life, and suddenly, we were transported backstage to where members of The National sipped what appeared to be tea. And then they were on the move, strolling through brick hallways and finally out into the open, where a sea of devotees awaited them.

Berninger, donning a crisp black suit (the blazer of which was understandably discarded after two songs), threw himself against the mic stand and stood upon the speakers while belting a raw and passionate rendition of Eucalyptus – a rather fitting opening to the first show of their Australian tour.

The desperation and conviction in the frontman’s voice as he screamed down into the front row, “I don’t want it! I don’t care! It wouldn’t be fair!” is a far cry from the melodic studio version, and with deep baritone vocals it’s considerably more powerful. Perhaps most importantly, it’s also believable in its entirety. 

Guitarist Aaron Dessner took the opportunity to acknowledge their standing friendship with the Foxes. “It’s such an honour to play with them, and we feel really lucky. We’ve been playing a lot of songs from our whole career and from our new records, and this one’s from Trouble Will Find Me.” Not even six seconds in, Bryan Devendorf’s characteristic drum licks told us we were in for an anthemic delivery of Don’t Swallow The Cap. 

At this stage, a legendary sound tech (let’s call him Scotty) had unravelled Berninger’s incomprehensibly long mic chord eight times from where it had twisted around almost every piece of stage equipment to keep up with his frantic movement.

“I’m used to these things in the front being lower than the stage, but instead, they’re higher – it’s reversed… I think it’s the other side of the hemisphere happening. Every time I think I have to step down, I have to step up and vice versa.” 

“Was that one in a weird time signature?” Berninger turned to the Dessner twins for confirmation. Bryce nodded along resolutely while bassist Scott Devendorf laughed. 

“To me, it is. But you did great.” Aaron was quick to introduce Abel. “This next song is very straightforward, but I once collapsed my lung when we did the video for it…” 

Again, Scotty, who had become the sixth member of the band for all intents and purposes, was back on the stage hauling a mic chord from the masses of the pit, yet Berninger was nowhere to be found.

Matt Berninger went for a long walk and sing in the crowd. The National, Riverstage, Brisbane. pic.twitter.com/iGo9tYQsLY

— oneplanetmikey (@oneplanetmikey) February 28, 2024

The chord went taut, and following it forty, then fifty metres out past the mosh, everyone located him. Like some ghostly apparition, one minute, he was nowhere, and the next, he was everywhere, running through the crowd (more sound techs scrambling behind him to collect the chord) and wreaking havoc while the rest of the band continued to play unfazed as if it was the most normal thing they’d seen him do. The crowd lunged after him, parting and then flooding back in full force like the Red Sea. It was pandemonium. It was Terrible Love. 

Even after the night closed with a special crowd-led song in the form of Vanderlyle Crybaby Geeks, all anyone could talk about was how desperately someone needed to get Berninger a wireless mic. 

And how desperately Scotty needed a raise.