On my way into the Fox, I noticed a sign announcing that the Middle Kids show was sold out. Since the Australian indie trio last came to Vancouver five years ago, supporting Local Natives at the Commodore, the band has really rocketed in popularity. 

An earlier tour date had to be postponed due to the pandemic; so it’s no wonder that Vancouver’s indie kids came out in force to support the three-piece touring its latest album, Faith Crisis Pt 1. 

Opening the show was Gordi, a fellow Australian musician who’s perhaps best-known for her collaborations with Troye Sivan. While her particular brand of dreamy folktronica was a bit too downbeat to hype up a Wednesday night crowd, her musicianship was on point. She played solo, easily swapping between instruments and microphones to weave melodies with a refreshingly husky vocal tone. She noted this was the same stage she played when she was last in Vancouver—a triumphant return!

Middle Kids took the stage unassumingly—fittingly, given its namesake—and launched into a one-two punch of new tracks. “Highlands” as an opener worked wonders to warm up the crowd, followed by the catchy “Dramamine” and then “Your Love”, a cut from its self-titled debut EP. 

It’s been a bit of a rocky North American tour so far for the band, with its previous three shows cancelled or delayed due to frontwoman Hannah Joy needing vocal rest. While her voice wasn’t as boisterous as it sounds on the band’s recorded output, she delivered an excellent live performance, taking on a bit of a Phoebe Bridgers quality in her ethereality. 

The three-piece was joined on tour by an extra guitarist. This helped reimagine some of the recorded material’s depth: “Stacking Chairs”, captured in the studio with a 12-string guitar that would be monstrously awkward to take on tour, instead rung out with melodies across two guitars that could see neither one accurately depicted as lead or rhythm. (I spent much of the set puzzling over Joy’s setup, which seemed to involve playing right-handed guitars upside-down, but strung in reverse.)

In general, the live version of Middle Kids sounded rougher and rawer: the polish was sanded off to expose more genre influences. The instrumental breakdown in “R U For Me?” reminded me of the chaotic crescendos in Los Campesinos’ early output, and “Go To Sleep” gained an almost psychedelic quality.

While Middle Kids didn’t sound like a lot of the high-profile indie music currently coming out of Oceanie, the members still had a distinctly Aussie sense of humour. Drummer Harry Day was eager to crack jokes, noting the Fox’s craft beer crucifixes make the mezzanine audience look like a cult, or riffing on the large stuffed zebra head that hangs next to the bar.  

Bassit-slash-Joy’s-husband Tim Fitz was quieter, but elicited a cheer when he mentioned his love of Macleod’s Books. That in turn opened him up to friendly ribbing from his bandmates, who teased him for his love of buying dozens of old man self-help books while on tour. 

That camaraderie worked wonders for the live show. When one member dedicated the murmur-y single “Bootleg Firecracker” to his friend Zoe(y?), who was at the show on a second date, it became a running joke. Every song started being dedicated to her—including, Joy noted, the track called “Mistake”. 

Instead of leaving the stage for an encore, the band took a breath before playing its last two songs. “Cellophane (Brain)” embraced a mid-tempo ballad layered with distorted instrumental squeals and a lo-fi drum pad, which contrasted with the final song “Never Start”. The drums rat-a-tatted with a marching verve; the guitar slid into country twangs; and Joy cascaded the vocals into a heartening, optimistic climax. 

It seems unlikely the threesome will be playing such an intimate venue the next time it comes to town. Which makes it all the more special to know their music has found a home here, among the craft-beer-cult of Main Street hipsters.