Every night, whether in Adelaide or Hobart, Brisbane or Newcastle, had moments where I could see the joy on the audiences' faces as they sang along, hugged each other or stayed for photos. It was more than performing songs from an album: I realised we tapped into collective memory, where relationships were made; friendships consolidated; passions ignited; young adulthood where we all found ourselves. It felt like we were all zooming in on ‘life’. There was something unpretentiously human about it. And don't get me started on all the 20 somethings whose parents had brought them up to our music that were seeing us for the first time.
That sense of connection was more profound than I can easily sum up in words and it'll stay with me.
The end result of our band's togetherness on stage is a uniqueness like no other band I know. It’s impossible to curate us; this unscriptable evolution of all our energy, from Jane’s starry presence, to Kenny’s accordion and Dale’s roving basslines and ecstatic facial expressions. We’re weird and a true force and for good, bad and in between, there's no one like us.
