Daughter’s music is beautiful, soft, and hypnotising, with lyrics that will make you check in with just how your heart is doing. Their album ‘His Young Heart’ was the soundtrack to my last big breakup, so hearing the band singing those songs in front of me gave me roughly seven million feelings I didn’t expect on a Monday night in the middle of a sold out and very, very full 170 Russell.
With Daughter’s recordings, it’s easy to just let the songs wash over you and blend into one giant experience – in a live situation you get to see all the elements that go into crafting each tune, all tied together neatly with the fragile voice of lead singer Elena Tonra and some stunning harmonies weaving throughout. Tonra’s otherworldly singing lends extra power to the beautiful lyrics of every song, all very melancholy and brokenhearted.
The band is over touring their newest album, ‘Not To Disappear’, and played a selection of more upbeat tracks from this. The crowd still went wild for their older songs, sometimes identifying them from an opening chord and cheering. There wasn’t much, if any, banter or audience interaction – Daughter were there to play music and that’s exactly what they did, give or take a few ‘how are you going?’s.
I couldn’t help but feel that Daughter’s music style is more suited for a sit down gig, as it was a slightly awkward experience being in the middle of a crowd of roughly 900 (at least that’s the venue capacity), with no dancing happening whatsoever. Daughter just isn’t dance music, but the surrealism of a mob of people standing in silent stillness with a slight bob every now and then was overwhelming and slightly hilarious. Although props to the very drunk group of ladies at the back who were adamant they could fit some fast paced dance moves in the soundscapes.
I’ll be honest though – I would have been happiest with an empty ballroom and just me sitting in an armchair listening to them play for me alone.
I suppose that’s the magic of Daughter – their deep and honest lyrics and hypnotic style make you feel such a connection that surely the music is meant for you and you alone.
Jasmin Ashton is a PR whiz and freelance writer/designer from Melbourne who has a lot of feelings about pretty much everything. Find her at @Jasmanna.