Opening for and personally handpicked by Devendra Banhart himself was emerging Melbourne band Mouth Tooth. Making you feel as though one were somewhere between melting into the ground and the one you love (it was BYO, Tinder not included), their take on alternative dream pop drew a modest but committed crowd that hugged the front of the stage. Well-crafted and considered songs flowed across the Prince Bandroom with members Rhys Mitchell and Max Turner remaining seated yet seemingly levitating along with their tunes. It was more dream than pop – an ideal support act for what was to follow.
Enter Devendra Banhart and band, sauntering onto the stage with a relaxed swagger, sporting double denim and approaching a yellow microphone that matched his yellow t-shirt, he greeted the audience with a softly spoken “Good evening”. Wasting no time, Banhart launched into Golden Girls and pins could be heard dropping between approving screams and whistles from the crowd. Fur Hildegard von Bingen quickly followed, the crowd starting to move as the Banhart effect came into full swing.
Covering a lot of ground with songs from multiple albums including Quedate Luna from Cripple Crow (2005), Bad Girl from Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon (2007), Baby from What Will Be (2009)and songs from most recent album Mala (2013), Banhart had the audience wrapped around his double-denim fingers.
Not known for doing many covers, Banhart introduces a song by Brazilian artist Erasmo Carlos called Sorriso Della, declaring, “You can try find this record in stores, but… good luck. I can’t even find it anywhere. We’re just playing it to say, ‘Go check him out!’”
At one point all band members disappear off stage, leaving Banhart standing solo, acoustic guitar in hand. Looking at the crowd he surprisingly opens the floor to special requests. Song titles come flying thick and fast from the adoring audience who are still in shock at the opportunity at hand.
Crowd favourite was Cristobal, finding Banhart swanning around onstage, arms flailing, Banhart collapsing entirely flat on his back onstage by song’s end. However, things were taken to another level entirely when Banhart and band exuded ultimate alchemy amongst themselves while blazing away all eight-plus epic minutes of track Sea Horse. Guitars wailing, drums crashing and driving bass, an all-out meltdown not far on the horizon steadily approached, peaking with an extended guitar solo and dropping effortlessly back into the chorus, the audience cheering in ecstasy.
All of that plus two songs for encore, Won’t You Come Over and Camernsita, Devendra Banhart spanned a decade of songwriting, pleasing old and new fans alike.
BY RICHARD LIPP
Loved: Devendra’s double denim getup and the evenings’ rendition of Sea Horse.
Hated: Sound issues.
Drank: The air, saturated with exhalations impregnated with the bi-product of the fellowship of the Banhart. And a Corona.
