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Rainy Day Women: Wed, March 13 @ Black Bear Lodge, Brisbane

Words by Marco Zande - Published on March 21, 2013

Brunswick St, Wednesday, 9pm. Restaurants are closing, chairs are being stacked and money counted. However, a few revelers trickle through a lone doorway, up a set of stairs and into Black Bear Lodge. Fremantle band Rainy Day Women await!

Before the boys could take the stage, Gold Coast product Oceanics treated the few Brisbane punters in the dimly lit bar. The revelers enjoy the show, for their sound is solid and material good, but apart from a few Kook-like moments (the English band, not the rookie surfer) they never really get out of second gear. This and poor banter hold them back, they have the elements of a really fun band, but get lost somewhere along the way.

The usual stage shuffle, the office work of the fledgling band, occurs. Amps are loaded off and on, guitars put back into cases and laid gently in hallways and all the other preparatory tasks that go with live music are taken care of. But before long, the headliners arrive.

Rainy Day Women, barefoot and raring to go, dive headfirst into their set. They nail it. From the get go the band gels and their voices take many by surprise. The backing vocals are interesting, falsettos are killer and front-man Dylan Olliviere superb.

They fly through the first portion of their set in this manner; everyone’s enthralled and entertained. Slide guitar, keys and beautiful songs satisfy the audience, whilst simultaneously whetting their appetite for more.

There is a momentary lull as they retune and prepare for the next song, and a reveler yells, “they’re just a bunch of groovers”. It’s hard to sum them up any other way. The bearded bass player, who looms at least a head above his band mates, gave the I’m-good-to-go nod and set down a solid, infectious foundation, the rest built upon it, and again they were off, creating beautiful, indie-pop sounds.

At the end of a particularly groovy number, the guitars and cymbals are allowed to naturally decay, then without any introduction, gently, part-by-part, the boys begin a new song. Slowly it takes shape and the crowd ahh-s in recognition. It is an instrumentally stripped back, mind blowing, harmony riddled performance of Fleetwood Mac’s – “Dreams”, the final note of which is met by hearty applause, thrilled whistles and cheers for more.

With smiles all round, they tear into two of their better-known originals, “Friends” and “Runaway”. The small audience tapped, sang and bobbed their heads along, inhaling every melodic morsel.

Sadly, but inevitably, the set came to a humble end. A brief thank you and they were done. These guys get it. They have the songs, the sound and the delivery.

He's a what? He's a what? He's a newspaper man And he gets his best ideas From a newspaper stand. - -

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