Cut Copy possess a reputation that provokes suspicion in these quarters. There’s often a stuffy politeness about indie-approved fusions of rock and dance that turns this listener off, and the nature and tone of the praise lavished upon this Aussie group often seems to, inadvertently, lump them in with bands guilty of such musical crimes.
Pleasing, then, to be proved incorrect; Cut Copy can flounder when they veer into wimpish indie-electro melancholia, but for the most part their music is infused with a disco-derived exuberance that often eludes their supposed peers. And what’s more, this approach reaps added dividends in the live setting.
The quality of a gig is often gauged by the enthusiasm of the crowd reaction, and tonight certainly scores well in that regard. However, it’s the physical nature, rather than the vocal fervency, of the audience’s response that’s most striking.
Put simply, indie audiences usually mill, rather than dance, when their attention is drawn towards the performer. It’s testament to the ecstatic excellence of the electronic elements at the core of Cut Copy’s music that – at times – the (decidedly indie-leaning) punters moved in a manner more reminiscent of a dance audience. When the dreamy, house-inflected squelch of tracks like ‘Hearts On Fire’ and ‘Nobody Lost, Nobody Found’ hit their peak, the sensation was akin to being on a dancefloor rather than in a mosh pit.
The band members performed with an assured confidence that suggested they can summon forth such a reaction whenever they please. Dance and indie lovers alike would be well-advised to beg, borrow or steal a ticket the next time Cut Copy drop by.