Given the otherworldly atmosphere of The Church’s recordings, it’s an intriguing prospect to anticipate the Australian quartet in concert and find out how they replicate the density of their music in the spirit of the moment.
Whether the well aged likes of “Reptile,” “Almost with You” or selections from the untitled #23, the songs of The Church on stage flourish as well-constructed pieces of music they are rather than mere contrivances of the recording studio. Playing together for this length of time, it’s clear how each individual has developed his style of playing in complement to his comrades: besides offering whispered counterpoint vocal harmonies, guitarist Peter Koppes, for instance, can offer the simplest of solos and skeletal rhythm chords which instantaneously mesh with the more complex patterns Marty Wilson Piper wrestles from his (Rickenbacker or well-worn acoustic) guitar.
Offering droll repartee between songs, Steve Kilbey’s bass alternately ornamented the sound and fused those guitar parts together, that is, when he wasn’t assuming a six or twelve-string himself and handing the bass off to one of his counterparts. All the while, fifteen-year veteran of the band, drummer Tim Powles, was in constant motion, playing some combination of sticks, mallets, tambourine and shakers,
The Church chose a new tune “Space Saviour” to close nearly two hours in the hot and perhaps all too cozy confines of the tiny New Hampshire venue. Thrashing their way through it much like they opened their set with “Tantalized,” clearly enjoying their own camaraderie and that which they conjured with their devoted audience (a mix of aging but passionate music-lovers and younger indie fans), The Church presented an indelible image of themselves in both visual and musical terms.
