Review: The Magnetic Fields, St George’s – ‘A hummable collision of euphoria and sadness’

Don’t you think it would be great to live in a parallel universe? When heating costs a ridiculous amount, when a pint is over a fiver, when two idiots fight like cats in a bag over a prize that they scarcely deserve, wouldn’t a different world be good? What if someone just came and gave it a little shove to the left (always the left, never to the right). That would be alright, wouldn’t it?

Sometimes it feels as though that’s what pop music does. It sneaks up on us and skews the world. That’s definitely what happens in the world that The Magnetic Fields create.

It all starts with an easy going Australian; Darren Hanlon is excellent company. He’s a storyteller and a songwriter, a person who loves details and the little things, someone who can tell the biggest truth with the tiniest observation.

In a handful of songs Hanlon makes you think about some of the greatest Aussies ever. Remember, this is a parallel world, so the greatest Australians aren’t Kylie and Nick Cave, they’re The Go-Betweens and Smudge.

In this parallel world of ours The Magnetic Fields write enormous pop hits; they could be number one forever. Every single song tonight ends with a colossal eruption of applause and, by the end, a standing ovation is the only way to go.

Stephin Merritt’s voice is rumble-deep, a down-in-a-well croon, and he sings of love. Not perfect, shiny love but a love that’s a bit tarnished and dented, sometimes a love that’s unstable and giddy. The latest album is called Quickies and lots of the tunes tonight go by in a flash. Death Pact (Let’s Make A) is a ridiculous 17 seconds but almost everything else clocks in at a very satisfying perfect-pop-song three minutes.

Pop songs don’t get much more perfect than Quick!. Vocals are taken by long-time collaborator Shirley Simms, the perfect foil to Merritt’s baritone, and it’s a hummable collision of euphoria and sadness; just like all of the best pop songs.

Skating deliriously across the whole of their catalogue, The Magnetic Fields cherry pick from their vast array of great songs. In the end they play about 30 of them, not a single one outstays its welcome and every one is cheered like the alternative anthem that it is.

The Day the Politicians Died drips with deadpan black humour, The Flowers She Sent and The Flowers She Said She Sent is a delightful slice of indie pop and Come Back From San Francisco is like a concentrated shot of the Beatles and the Beach Boys, fizzy and full of sunshine.

It’s still the songs from the bona fide classic 69 Love Songs that hit the hardest though. Book of Love has become an alterno-wedding standard and here it is cobweb delicate, tinged with melancholy.

In this alternate world, when life gets too much, Stephin Merritt and The Magnetic Fields will be pop stars. Even if it’s just for a short while.

Main photo: Gavin McNamara

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