It takes one song to bring them in, and many more to keep them. For Gotye, that one song is "Somebody I Used to Know," a track so blindingly good that his current US tour (originally booked for smaller venues) has been swapping up for bigger digs all across the country. People want to hear it. Scalpers are charging $90 bucks a head. The wave that carries him goes by adoration. But unlike most acts that find buzz after releasing an instant classic, Gotye didn't just get lucky with the muse. His catalog is brimming with anthems and the kind of experimental pop tracks that can win over the unconverted and fanaticize the doe-eyeds in about as much time as it would to take to tweet out the resulting eureka to the ties that bind. This is a ground swell, and it's going to get bigger.
What might not is his ego. He prefers to surround himself with his instruments - drums, mics and keys - not a bunch of open space that would make him the center of everyone's immediate attention. He talks, but as a conversationalist offering musings, not as a star trying to toast everyone up with a bit of his glory. He comes across as either playful tinkerer intently focused on producing some hip jelly out in the crowd or a seasoned professional looking to hit the notes and pierce the hearts. The latter was apparent from the first seconds of "Eyes Wide Open." With a voice that offered more than its recorded form (a compliment indeed), he used that song to unfurl an answer to anyone that would ask "is there more than the hit?" Yes, non-believer - so much more. His crowd was a mix of the versed and the willing to be. Lyrics were sung back, but sometimes it was better to just listen. A true voice will do that to you. And whether you want to paint him with the baby Sting or Peter Gabriel brush, Gotye can connect by his own accord.
If anything, Gotye follows the line of Gabriel; a man who knew how to deliver a big glossy pop track, and then follow it with a head first trip into the borderlands. "Hearts A Mess" was true to this spirit, with its wandering keys and slow reveal that unearthed a pent-up cry that had been pushed down and hidden for a little too long. You knew the feeling upon hearing it. We try to hide these things as we go about our days. We find ourselves in fogs that obscure the way home after trauma. But sooner or later, everything reaches the surface, and we explode into our true colors. Gotye sets this to music, and shares it with the world that's been there too. Still surprised he's internationally known?
Those looking for more than some cool down connect had many flavors to choose from. "State of the Art" shook you with its throbbing reggae bump; "Save Me" called out to the young at heart with its Lion King-like chorus; while "The Only Way" evoked mystery and Middle Eastern mind jaunts that were accentuated by the desertscape that laid wide on the screen behind the band. That screen became something of a hero to me over the course of the night by playing a cartoon jumble that not only fit perfectly to each thump and jump of Gotye's exceptionally tight rhythm section, but also tied itself to the early days of Spike & Mike's. In style, not subversiveness.
As you would expect, "Somebody I Used To Know" was a highlight in a night full of polished gems. Starting slowly, a small section of voices could be heard following Gotye's words during the verse; but once that note pinged and the chorus dropped, all became one. Everyone was singing, really hard. You could tell this song struck a nerve that only burned deeper by the time Kimbra hit the crescendo. The angst, second guessing, and turmoil that this song holds was everybody's now. It had joined the community, and people held it close like it was the rawest page of their diary. I'm not sure how Gotye feels about this. There wasn't a triumphant "we did it" fist pump at the end, or any indication that he understood how much impact this song was causing out in the jungle. He just played to the hilt, and paid it the attention it deserved.
If that song held the distinction of his most personal, the two closers felt like his most celebratory. The wham-bam of "I Feel Better" and "Learnalilgivinanlovin" were straight out of the Motown playbook; and I'm guessing, a nod to the roots of man that obviously feels a strong affinity for the most soulful parts of R&B. It was a grand send off for the voyage home, and a reminder that living a little means putting your pain down for awhile. Sometimes we need someone to remind us of that. And sometimes, the proof is better in person.
Setlist:
Eyes Wide Open
The Only Way
Easy Way Out
Smoke and Mirrors
State of the Art
Thanks for your Time
Don't Worry We're Watching
Somebody I Used To Know
Save Me
Bronte
Hearts A Mess
Encore:
I Feel Better
Learnalilgivinanlovin
