The Enmore Theatre, usually a vibrant hub of Sydney's music scene, thrummed with a different kind of energy on this particular night. It wasn't the electric buzz of anticipation, nor the usual pre-show chatter. Instead, a hush fell over the crowd, a reverent silence reserved for the arrival of sonic deities. Dirty Three, the Australian instrumental trio woven from legend, were about to grace the stage.
For the uninitiated, Dirty Three are not your average band. They're a force of nature, a hurricane of sound that can conjure both breathtaking serenity and earth-shattering fury within the same song. Their music transcends language, a tapestry of emotions woven with the raw power of violin, guitar, and drums. Nick Cave, no stranger to sonic alchemy himself, once declared them his "favourite live band. No contest." That sentiment hung heavy in the air, a testament to the inherent magic Dirty Three possess.
The night unfolded like a carefully curated dreamscape.
The opening notes of "Love Changes Everything I," the first track from their latest album, ripped through the venue, a sonic explosion that served as a potent reminder of their untamed spirit.
It was a jolt to the senses, a shot of adrenaline that primed the audience for the emotional rollercoaster to come.
Then, the band delved into their rich back catalogue, each song a familiar landmark on a well-worn map of their musical odyssey. Tracks from their self-titled debut and the revered "Horse Stories" elicited gasps of recognition from the crowd. Notes resonated with a deep affection, like reuniting with a long-lost friend whose laughter and stories still hold the power to move you.
Warren Ellis, the band's resident wildman, emerged as the unlikely frontman.
With his untamed mane of hair and a violin that seemed to be an extension of his soul, he danced a frenetic jig across the stage. One moment, he'd be coaxing mournful cries from his instrument, the next, he'd be a whirling dervish, sawing out a frenzy of notes that mirrored the tempestuous emotions churning within the music.
His between-song monologues, a rambling mix of humour and philosophical musings, were as captivating as the music itself. He was a shamanic rockstar, a conduit for the raw energy that pulsed through the band.
Underpinning Ellis's theatrics was the rock-solid rhythm section of Jim White and Mick Turner. White's drumming was a revelation in its versatility. He could shift from a whisper-soft caress to a thunderous assault in the blink of an eye, his every beat a testament to his mastery of the instrument. Turner, the quiet force on stage, was the anchor, his understated yet evocative guitar lines providing the melodic foundation upon which the sonic edifice was built. Together, they were a three-headed beast, a perfect embodiment of Dirty Three's untamed power and quiet grace.
The beauty of their music lies in its impermanence. Unlike a song with lyrics, their instrumentals unfold like expansive sonic poems, each note a brushstroke that paints a vivid picture in the listener's mind. These musical journeys, some stretching past the ten-minute mark, soared to exhilarating crescendos before dissolving into moments of introspective quietude. It was in these fleeting moments of silence, pregnant with unspoken emotion, that the true magic of Dirty Three resided.
The night ended all too soon with the trio's final notes lingering in the air like a bittersweet farewell. Leaving the venue felt like emerging from a trance, blinking in the harsh light of reality. The experience was a potent reminder that music, especially music crafted with such passion and skill, has the power to transport us, to break down the barriers of language and logic, and leave us yearning for more.
Not unexpectedly, Dirty Three's return to the stage was a triumph. It was a night where music transcended genre, a night where raw emotion and sonic experimentation collided in a glorious display of artistic prowess.
If you have the opportunity to witness their wild passion live, do not hesitate.
Savour every moment, for it may be a long time before we're graced with their presence again. But even then, the memory of their music, like a seashell held close to the ear, will continue to whisper tales of the night the Enmore Theatre became a temple of sound, and Dirty Three, the raging tempest within, reigned supreme.
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Words by TAW.
Photos courtesy of TAW.