Short and sweet is how Dan Whitford and his merry band of Aussies played it on Tuesday night at the first of Cut Copy’s two sold out shows at the 9:30 Club. Clocking in at under an hour, the Melbourne, Australia-based group’s set (and a two-song encore) left a drenched audience wanting more.
In recent months, artists that typically whip up the crowd into a dancing frenzy at this venue have been met with an outwardly apathetic group, shuffling side to side but never really letting loose. That changed on Tuesday, as the band had the audience leaping up and down even before offering any directives to do so. They started off with old favorites from their second album, 2008’s breakthrough In Ghost Colours. “Visions” and “Nobody Lost, Nobody Found” might not be the band’s best known singles, but they quickly got legs moving before Cut Copy dipped into material from their latest album, Zonoscope.
In an interview with DCist, bassist Ben Browning told us that a zonoscope is “a telescopic lens that allows you to view and experience the abstract world we’ve created for the album. It’s also a musical instrument, with strings, First World War electronics and instructions written in Russian.” Tuesday night’s set was another worldly amalgamation of the band’s ubiquitous dance anthems and more electronic-heavy improvisation. Whitford and Browning’s dual vocals seamlessly blend, even as they bounce around the stage, moving from guitars to keyboards to controls, dancing all the while. A band that dances so well and enthusiastically, unchoreographed, is a rarity — an expression of just how catchy Cut Copy’s work can be.
In Ghost Colours‘ “Lights and Music” set the audience off, leaping up and down. A throwback to 2004’s Bright Like Neon Love came around with “Saturdays,” which left the audience wondering if the band was saving “Time Stands Still” for Wednesday night’s performance. Maybe they were holding back in anticipation of the reprise show, but it would be hard to tell. Cut Copy is still doing what they do best, delivering on an unspoken commitment to make music a wholly corporal experience. The lyrics aren’t profound, but they wash over the listener like a warm bath without an afterthought. The genius is in the songs, the way they keep a crowd on its toes, leaping up in perpetual forward motion, fist pumps and all.
