Gig Review - The Preatures
In my opinion, The Preatures are a world-class 5-piece band of low-key rockers: stage presence for days, tunes that make you feel good even on Mondays & a front-woman who is all guts with no expectations at all for fame or glory.
When The Preatures set off on their national tour last year, I was totally bummed to find out their Brisbane show was scheduled for a date I already had plans to be out of town for. Immediately, I slumped into a deep depression and played the band’s highly-acclaimed debut album Blue Planet Eyes on repeat until a point where their lyrics were so wedged into my brain I could have tricked myself into believing I’d seen them live the night before. It was a tough time, but the tour was a success (or so I had heard) and I was happy for them nonetheless.
Then came November, and the mooosic God’s over-delivered in what could only have been the greatest effort to win back my loyalty to the live-music scene. Straight off the bat of their national run of dates, The Preatures joined forces with Corona Extra and made an excellent plan to roadtrip around the country one more time for what was described as a “monumental, free victory lap” as part of the Corona SunSets campaign. Taking a more unplugged approach to their shows this time 'round, the band would hit 20 more intimate venues across West Australia, NSW, Queensland and Victoria, and I had decided I would do everything in my power to ensure I’d trek wherever I needed to witness them in action.
And trek we did. Of course a second chance, and 20 cost-free opportunities to see Izzi Manfredi & the gang would still work against me when I realised the closest show to Brisbane was still 150km’s away. It’s funny what good music does to a person, in fact in this case, I look back and I’d even say it's hilarious.
With a leaking gas-pipe and, as a result, no air-conditioning on a very warm summer’s day, my great mate Phoebs and I sped up the Sunshine Coast motorway, blasting music our dads once jammed to through a dying Bose speaker. Two awkwardly melted frozen cokes and an accidental detour to the underwhelmingly small Big Pineapple later, we made it to Sunshine Beach in time for a quick dip at the beach before heading into town.
The Noosa SLSC was probably at capacity, but it still felt like the gig was the town’s best kept secret. People hung around the bar and spilled out onto the deck, feasting on what I can only assume is the strict locals diet of fish & chips and beer on tap. Everyone was chatting right up until the band nonchalantly wandered into the room, through the slow-forming crowd and up into a quick little soundcheck sequence that felt more like we were all hanging out in Gideon's garage. I wasn’t complaining.
The set was full of energy, free Corona's (it’s true) and a great deal of boogie-ing both on & off stage. The small but rowdy crowd that eventually formed couldn’t seem to get enough of Izzi’s voice and the sultry persona she had going on all night. With each change in momentum she was straight up dancing like I usually do when they play The Scissor Sisters or Nelly Furtado at the supermarket. With each heartfelt lyric she locked eyes with an audience member or better yet, Jack - bandmate on stage and soulmate in real life (as far as I’m aware). There was something about the entire thing that was so fun and casual, so incredibly humbling, and yet they left the stage at the end of the night as effortlessly cool and untouchable as they’d always been.
For a free show, I was blown away. For a Preatures gig, it lived up to every expectation I had, and so many more. Still that night calls back to me from where I'd rather be.
Photography and words by Elli Webb