Wild Nothing LIVE

**As what is essentially a moniker for the musical output of Jack Tatum, the name “Wild Nothing” is arguably somewhat deceiving. Unlike a good number of his dream-pop contemporaries, the sounds Tatum creates never become guilty of washing over the listener in an unmemorable way; nor of creating a wild haze which may be traceable because it faintly resembles that whoosh you once heard on _Loveless_, but never because it leaves you with something. By contrast, Tatum emphasises lucidity and concreteness in his song-writing, always ensuring that his dreamy textures exist within a memorable framework.**

Performing his biggest club show yet, tonight Tatum secures not only his reputation as one of indie-pop’s strongest song-writers of late, but also, with a little help from a solid live band, his ability to successfully transfer such carefully constructed compositions to a live setting. The songs from lo-fi debut _Gemini_ are delivered with a much greater warmth and clarity than on record, while the sheer propulsion that characterises the rhythm section behind opener ‘Shadow’ (as well as an instillation of more vibrant colour into the gorgeous ‘Paradise’) proves latest effort _Nocturne_ capable of thriving in equal measure.

It’s Tatum himself, however, who serves as the set’s focal point throughout. A sense of assurance comes through the elasticity of his vocal range, which fluctuates from yearning croon to cooing falsetto between – and sometimes even within – songs. While on _Gemini_ his voice could occasionally become swamped in atmospherics, tonight it commands the performance in a way that persistently reminds the audience that these are _his_ songs, and that **Wild Nothing** is ultimately the project of nobody but himself. From the **Fleetwood Mac**-isms of ‘Nocturne’ to the joyous “woahs” of the closing ‘Summer Holiday’, Tatum is at once assertive and comfortable standing centre-stage.

Apparently somewhat overwhelmed by the exuberant audience response, Tatum announces a mid-encore cover of “one of his favourite bands”: the small-time, criminally underrated and overlooked ’80s indie-pop outfit **The Go-Betweens**. It’s fitting in many ways: for those in the know, the Australian five-piece were capable of producing some of the most memorable jangle-pop of the age – a fact that has made the group’s fade into obscurity all the more tragic.

In the vein of Grant McLennan and co, **Wild Nothing** have, tonight, displayed a proud refusal to forsake substance for style, but where a lack of recognition in some sense epitomises the short-lived existence of the former, the torrent of applause which floods this sold-out venue suggests that **Wild Nothing** just may have evaded a similar fate.