Polyphonic Spree - The Metro Sydney

The stunning all-smiling symphonic super-group The Polyphonic Spree bought their distinctive soaring 'sections' to Sydney for their Splendor side-show.

Opening the Polyphonic proceedings were the utterly affable and genuinely jovial sextet from Brisbane The John Steel Singers. They seemed gushingly thrilled to be playing, mostly due to the fact that they would be get to see the 'Spree three more times, and got the already significant crowd toasty warm for what was to follow with their brass-tinged-summer soaked shanties.

A red sheath of material was draped across the stage and one-by-one in a steady side-stage stream the band entered behind it, taking a good couple of minutes of shuffling before they were all in place. A single spotlight cast a bright circle on the front of the material which was then punctured by a blade which cut out a heart shaped window. Tim DeLaughter then did his best Colonel de Groot impression to cut open the material and to declare the show open. The sight when the red covering had receded was almost too much to take in, the stage illuminating to reveal a teeming mass of noise, teeth, hair, strings and brass, a joyously happy herd of harmonizing humanity. There were 22 people in all on stage, all in striking black 'Fragile Army' fatigues. The band came in all sizes, shapes and skills. Faces ranged from the solemn, to chipper, to just plain ecstatic, musicians ranged from the focused to the frolicking, and up the back was the super-sassy, six-strong choir. Three blondes, three brunettes, flicking their hair like they were auditioning for The Runaways - imagine Robert Palmer's 'addicted to love backing dancers' but instead of hair gel and lycra were given hair straighteners and go-go dance lessons.

Right from their opening almost mantra like chanting 'love love love' of 'Together We're Heavy' and their heartfelt proclamation of "I'm projecting and reflecting desire for you to come into my life" in 'Running Away' the band seemed to sincerely wish to envelop us all into the performance, not just be entertained by it. While each member has their own distinct role within the band, and despite the fact they are constantly surrounded by twenty-or-so of their mates, each one also seems to be providing their own little piece of individual spectacle - you don't know who or what to focus on for fear of missing something.

Tim De Laughter skirts about the stage considering his band members with a proud, almost parental gaze. With such a large number of people involved and so much happening at any one moment no night with the 'Spree would ever be the same. When the band started out performing in variously coloured robes they were oft labeled as a 'cult'. While a few international incidents have given that term a somewhat sinister undertone to it, it is quite apt for The Polyphonic Spree in terms of the all-consuming power of their music and its effect on you when you witness it. Their music involuntarily forces you to do things you would not normally do. The whole of the Metro was under their enchanting spell, blindly following, obeying, and praising when requested or at the very least just smiling idiotically and launching our arms in great outward arcs as we tried to "reach for the sun".

The Polyphonic Spree are all about taking small pleasures and turning them into big ones. Love, hope, friendship or something as simple as the sun are turned into joyous pieces that just explode off the stage in magnified happiness. They even turn Nirvarna's bleak paean to broken love 'Lithium' into a chipper, uplifting sing-a-long. Throughout the night band members and the audience alike seemed in awe, and how could you not be, as both a human being and a musician at the sheer wonder of what was being created. The encore was something else again. Re-emerging through and around the crowd the band, now clad in white robes, all made their way down the centre stairs of the Metro back up on to the stage. We were treated to a campfire songs - which saw the band stripped down t only ten members, a zesty cover of 'Live and Let Die' and after some of the most heartfelt thanks since Stuart Divers first press conference, were sent off with best wishes and an urging to take care of each other with 'Soldier' and a reprise of 'It's the Sun'. Having to leave the warming communal glow of the Metro and face the cold, hard reality and anonymity of a big city at midnight just didn't seem right. The Pope may have just provided enlightenment for hundreds of thousands in our city a few weeks earlier, yet The Polyphonic Spree provided something much equally as special and uplifting to a slightly more intimate gathering tonight, and they didn't even have to close any roads.