Deep in the Botanical Gardens, Cut Copy immersed me in an alien spaceship disco, led by your dad’s alternative cousins. Following their seventh album release, Moments, ARIA-winning and GRAMMY-nominated Cut Copy were back in Melbourne, headlining Live at the Gardens. 

The group’s founder, Dan Whitford (vocals, keys, guitar) grew Cut Copy out of his bedroom in the early 2000’s, when he recruited Tim Hoey (guitars, sampler, percussion), Mitchell Scott (drums), and finally Ben Browning (bass guitar).

The self-described synth-pop and indie electronica group blended deliciously syncopated drums and bass with tinny keys and synthesiser, resulting in a sci-fi house sound reminiscent of Australian alternative bands. To describe Cut Copy is to look at Whitford’s inspiration: the echoey—and at times static—synth of early The Avalanches mixed with the trippiness of Severed Heads. 

The Royal Botanical Gardens’ Live at the Gardens is the perfect post-uni hangout, being only three stops from Parkville to Anzac station. The night harkened back to simpler times: autumn sun peered through squinted eyelashes, opener COLETTE’s groovy soul played over yonder, wine swirled in glasses of laughing compatriots. Food trucks galore, the event was clearly founded on compassion: I was spoiled for coeliac-friendly menu choices, as were my fellow vegan, vegetarian and halal concert-goers. Isla vodka and Mountain Goat beer were primary beverage choices but in true Melbournian fashion, the coffee cart was a dangerous competitor in the earlier hours of the evening. It couldn’t get more Melbournian than coffee carts, sunglasses, headwear and cool footwear. 

From the event's organisation to the performances themselves, compassion was certainly prioritised. Crazy P’s funky DJ set imperceptibly transitioned into CC:DISCO’s house set, where the snare and bass vibrated through carefully selected melodic motifs. Todd Terje’s disco-influenced set was a crowd favourite, remixing ABBA’s “SOS” to signpost his skill for funking up classic ballads. Seeing the opening artists jam together during each handover was heartwarming to see in such a competitive industry. Cut Copy also praised the DJ sets: “You’re not gonna find a better lineup. Anywhere”. 

After a half-hour intermission, Cut Copy opened to vibrant red lighting and “A Decade Long Sunset”. The tonal shift from the previous trap-heavy opener to pure indie catharsis was jarring at first, but as bats flew overhead from the surrounding pines, the teased electronic pulses were mesmerising. 

However, it was apparent not everyone was a fan of the bats, nor the UFO vibes I was picking up on. By “Solid”, another recent and reflective song, the crowd seemed to be doing more talking than dancing. I wonder if this distraction was a reflection of poor engagement control or a representation of how this music is supposed to be enjoyed: drink in your hand, having a good chat with a good vibes soundtrack. My decided explanation is a combination of wandering minds after the half hour stage restructure and remaining reflective during relaxed opening tracks. A punchier number after “A Decade Long Sunset” could have better sustained momentum. The crowd were electric for a drum and bass heavy, electro-house beat and drifted when the music leaned more indie. 

Whitford received affirming whooping and applause in response to the introduction of Aussie alternative pop legend, Graham Lee of The Triffids. Together, the group and Lee performed “Belong To You”, a guitar and keys-heavy dance anthem. Thankfully, they rarely spoke between numbers, letting the songs introduce themselves to maintain a swaying audience who were prepped to throw hands in the air at a well-teased beat drop. It was difficult to tell where a song ended and another started—a testament to their steady signature sound. Browning was instrumental in creating the pulse of the band’s groove, like a spaceship’s radar. 

Lights beamed through the puffs of concert-goers drifting away from designated smoking zones. With the crowd providing the smoke machine themselves, Cut Copy were able to reserve their funds for a stunningly well-mixed sound system. The haze felt like a nostalgic flashback sequence in a 2000’s film, as Whitford reminisced the classic Unimelb/VCA experience: “living in our crappy share-houses, going to arts school…let’s go back to 2003.” 

There was a humorous moment as the women beside us exclaimed, “I loved this song in 2003… I was 16!”. I was met with horror when I responded that I was negative four in 2003. Nevertheless, it wasn’t long until the pulsing heart of Cut Copy’s spaceship drew us back to dance. 

The concert concluded with “Hearts On Fire” and an encore set of cult favourites, “Need You Now” and “Lights And Music”. Perhaps spreading out these three big numbers could have aided energy. Reserving two of their more recognisable hits for the encore lessened the suspense—instead, it was expected. The whole fun of an encore is the ‘will-they-won’t-they’ tension. 

This gripe was quickly overridden by appreciation for the consistency between recording and live performance. One difference I did note—which is the pleasure of live music—was the emphasis on the bass and rhythm, in comparison to more synth heavy studio versions. Feeling the soundwaves vibrate through your core compelled even the most reluctant Melbournian to bop along. 

Seeing Cut Copy solidified that the 2000’s are here to stay: Y2K fashion, war in the Middle East, alien conspiracies and synth pop. It’s natural to be abducted by this grooving ship.

All Photo Credits: MCH - Mushroom Creative House