New Zealand Herald:
Kritik zum Konzert am 24. November 1996
(englisch)
Review by Jon Casimir that appeared in the Sydney Morning Herald of Nov 26, 1996.  Like many fabulously romantic
ideas, the whole concept of a farewell show on the steps of the Opera House also had a little bit of fabulous stupidity.
Imagine for a moment, that the biggest crowd ever to assemble for a rock event in Sydney turned up in your backyard - 150,000 people crusing in against your back porch, queueing for your downstairs loo. Lord knows what it was like for the tens of thousands of people deprived of a view, but in some ways thay might have been the lucky ones. It was certainly hard going in front of the stage, an area that was never going to comfortably fit more than 20,000 to 30,000. There, 50,000 of my new best friends and I got to know each other very well. I've had sex that was less intimate. I've been in fistfights that were less physical. If Crowded House taught me nothing else I now know what sardines feel like in the can, what toothpaste feels like when some heartless person squeezes the bottom of the tube. I finished the night 40 metres from where I started. And the funny
thing is, I don't remember trying to move. Had it been anything but the most perfect of Sydney evenings, with a cool breeze lifting the circling seagulls and keeping heat exhaustion at bay, yesterday's headlines could have been very different. In the end the whole thing went off without a hitch, which
is wonderful for Sydney, but it has to be said that we were very, very lucky. And in the middle of the tumult, Crowded House, the sweetest, most polished pop act this country (OK, New Zealanders --- this end of the world) has ever produced, closed their book with a warm, joyous, life-affirming chapter, a concert to remember.
Though the Crowdies have long been recognised for their craft on record, it should not be forgotten that they have also been a live act capable of almost routine magic, capable of making the biggest arena feel like a lounge room. The last time I saw Crowded House play to an audience of anything like this size was at the Concert for Life in Centennial Park in 1992 when they stole the day with their easy going charm and natural charisma. On Sunday night it was no different. The band joked. laughed and
chatted their way through a jukebox of their greatest hits, seducing fans from the first notes of 'Mean to Me'. Their wide-screen casualness has always been a part of their appeal. As always, Paul Hester played the cheeky bugger, delightedly informing the audience that, while there were no Sydneysiders in
the band, he had "deposited a little sperm" here occasionaly. As always, the sartorially loud Nick Seymour romped around the stage with his cheshire cat grin, lapping up every moment. As always (well recently), Mark Hart contributed clear, beutiful solos on guitar and keyboards. As always the haunting 'Hole in the River' managed to be the centrepiece of the set, even though it nestled among larger, brasher, more insistent singles like 'Four Seasons In One Day', 'Better Be Home Soon' and 'Distant Sun'. And, as always, Neil Finn gota away with being one of the darkest pop writers ever by the strength of his singing and his gorgeous way with a melody. "It's a bit emotional for us tonight," Finn conceded late in the proceedings, "but it feels more like a celebration that a funeral, doesn't it?"
Yes Neil, it did. And even if it was occasionally undercut with the
gentlest melancholy, even if the band was a little subdued, perhaps awed by the size and purpose fo the occasion, it didn't seem to matter. It felt like an honour and a privelage for us all, band and audience, to gather and share the songs. But if the set clipped by at a pace, then Finn dragged the encores,
looking like a man postponing the inevitable. The first one featured Hester up-front, with the bank joined by the other two Crowdies, stand in drummer Peter Jones and big brother Tim Finn, who strummed his guitar and offered his vocals on 'Weather With You' and 'It's Only Natural' - not that you could hear him above the open throated enthusiasm of the audience. The second traipsed through a rocking 'Now We're Getting Somewhere', a brooding 'Fingers Of Love' and a swirling, powerful 'In My Command'. Then, just as it seemed the night was making it's way to the finish line, things veered off to the left, with Neil leading the audience on an extended singalong of the Hunters and Collectors" classic 'Throw Your Arms Around Me'. It was during this song, as he jammed with the tens of thousands of instruments in front of him, that the gravity of the situation seeemed finally to hit home. The whole band looked choked - some fought tears back more successfully than others. The end had come. And as the choppy opening chords for 'Don't Dream It's Over' drifted over the harbour and up towards the full moon, we all knew it. Crowded House didn't say goodbye. Fittingly, though it seemed more
out of necessity than intention, the band just let the audience sing them into history, Neil Finn restarting the chorus of their biggest hit and standing back from the microphone, his face creased with emotion, watching as the biggest choir the Opera House has ever seen sent his band up to the angels. |