1999, a bit of an overwhelming prospect of going back to, a legendary year at the end of the fabled epic decade, the 90’s. Which is what Alex Lloyd’s breakthrough debut album of that year, “Black The Sun” played in full on Lloyd’s current national tour proposed. While excited to experience this once in a lifetime opportunity to hear Lloyd and band play the album from start to end, I also approached it with a little foreboding. While through remarkable coincidence, ‘Black The Sun’ was the most recent album I’d listened to on my cd player and I was stoked to transition effortlessly to a rare live experience of such, it possesses some dark undercurrents and correctly as it happened, my instincts told me this gig would take us to some dark places.

‘Black The Sun’ was a special album to me and hordes of people in Australia in 1999, many of them JJJ listeners as the station championed Lloyd and he was their darling for that year. It definitely compasses the Australian rural gothic in many places in an appealing, spine-tinglingly moody, emotionally insular and soulful way and contributes to the canon of such indie music, but it also has its own individual characteristics that live outside of that framework and are unique just to Lloyd. There’s an intelligent clarity to his lyrics and songwriting therefore that is both chilling at times and beautiful.

However, I was thrilled to hear the opening bars of ‘Melting’ and indeed the rest of the song as it exploded into life courtesy of Lloyd and his excellent band. Which comprises two lead guitarists, a bass player, Lloyd on acoustic guitar, beautifully played in songs that allowed it to be heard, the welcome appearance of female keyboardist and of course drummer.

“Melting” kicks off ‘Black The Sun’ with Lloyd’s trademark densely detailed reflection and musings on the ins and outs of emotional and psychological politics, the good and the bad. It is indicative of the kind of whip smart, incisive indie lyrical writing that I also witnessed at Client Liaison’s show earlier in the week, though they are vastly different musically.

This really marked an era in late 90’s indie music of which Lloyd was its champion in 1999. ‘Black The Sun’ is compiled as expertly as it is written, ‘Melting’ and following song ‘Momo’ gently leading you into the album’s sometimes rugged territory with a nice, uplifting lilt mixed into the melancholy. I’m surprised at just how much I enjoyed third track and smash first single, “Something Special“, the pop hit of the album which Lloyd actually apologised for as he introduced it, saying it was one of those songs where he asked himself how he wrote it. I thought it would be the song I enjoyed the least, instead it was one of the ones I enjoyed the most.

And conversely, fourth track, the sweetly brooding, intimately introspective, delicate ‘Desert’, which I have always enjoyed on record, I struggled to connect with, although I think this was more because of the mood I was in and the fact that I was very tired rather than anything lacking in the song, Alex or his band, who were doing a wonderful job and unsurprisingly are first rate musos. Of course, live production is going to sound different to recorded and some of the more cultured-sounding, smoothly produced songs on the album were altered in tone by the more acoustically-based band sound at the live show. I found the same with ‘Snow’, have always liked it but its nuances maybe didn’t quite translate fully live.

Not so next song and track 6 from ‘Black The Sun’, next monster hit, the deservedly beloved ‘My Way Home’, the moody, celluloid negative blinded-by-the-sun, glary overcast rural road trip romantic epic. This song blistered off the instruments, through the amps and into our ears and hearts and included an extended ending and mid-section where most of the band paused as Lloyd hauntingly and arrestingly ad libbed ‘How Sweet It Is To Be Loved By You’, a poetic and genius touch. Beautiful and delicate again title track ‘Black The Sun’ continued the road trip and the romantic musing.

I enjoyed it very much but I was beginning to notice at this stage the heavily amplified, more acoustically based band sound was beginning to create some emotional strain, inflating the songs into big, muscular beasts which they’re not on record. It was also giving the album a much darker and emotionally tormented feel than it does on record, which I was finding a little emotionally claustrophobic and disturbing. Which is both confronting and a compliment. While pretty uncomfortable, it’s always impressive when music has the power to disturb.

Next was track 9 and third big hit, ‘Lucky Star’, which is so well loved and known that Lloyd only had to pause momentarily after “waiting for your friends to call” for the audience to gleefully reply with “waiting for the waterfall”, in tune and on song. While another plaintive, emotionally delicate song, here the depression really sets in and ‘Lucky Star’ actually sounded quite dark and emotionally distressed.

But still, a joyous and lively high point of audience participation. At this point in ‘Black The Sun’ with ‘What A Year’, you’re impressed that at track ten we have yet another emotionally captivating and satisfying, catchy song. You ask yourself, is there nothing Alex Lloyd can’t do? ‘Faraway’ lightens the mood one of the simpler, songs on the album that goes at a nice acoustic lilt with a pleasant melody. ‘Black The Sun’ slows down on the last four tracks of the album and finishes things off in a nice, comfortable place after the intense emotional depths immediately preceding. ‘Aliens’ is another ‘mooder and brooder’, entrancingly pretty but again delving into borderline heartbreaking territory, stretching the emotions near to their limit. ‘Gender’ creates balance with a cosier, lighter tone, similar to ‘Faraway’ and the album ends on a haunting but affirming note with ‘Backseat Clause’, blending melancholy with romance and a declaration of emotional commitment in the consolidation of a relationship.

It comes through much more live than on record, but you get the impression ‘Black The Sun’ was written by a young Alex Lloyd in his early 20’s emerging out of a dark place of emotional isolation and occasionally, desperation. This is really brought home as he and the band finish off the gig with 40 minutes of favourites, beautifully played in robust, booming fullness. In some ways this is more enjoyable than the ‘Black The Sun’ section, as Alex Lloyd lightened up in subsequent years and albums, his more acoustically centred sound evolved and in these songs I feel you hear the “full Alex Lloyd”, dynamic, uplifting and sunnily powerful. It’s sixteen years since the last time I saw Lloyd live and I’m reminded of that show, played at the much larger Forum while Lloyd’s star was a lot higher, of how ridiculously talented he is and how great his music still is.

It sure was nice hearing ‘Beautiful’, ‘Never Meant To Fail’ and ‘Green’ live and of course, when Lloyd introduced ‘Amazing’, he wryly said, “let’s all sing along to this”. Indeed we did, it was beautiful and you were struck by what a wonderful song it is, plaintive, emotionally reassuring and soaring. You can see why it was the No. 1 song on the 2002 JJJ Hottest 100 and deservedly so. Lloyd is an interesting character, I think to myself of him as looking like a kind of “singing Mikey Robbins”, a big, burly bloke with as big a heart, masculine but introverted with a very feeling, sensitive side that comes out in this beautiful music. Lloyd is clearly uncomfortable speaking at first, at one point surprisingly and almost sadly self-deprecating, but opening up at the end of the show.

It’s interesting looking around at his audience, full of fairly blokey blokes, but not meatheads, and nice predominantly Australian women, many with a distinct ‘rock’ look, in a real person kind of way. And that’s what the audience were, real and down to earth in a way that was nice to be around. I’d never been to the Croxton Bandroom before and have been curious to see what it was like. I was wondering whether it was one of the more newly renovated band rooms such as at the Northcote Social Club or The Corner, but it isn’t and was very much like a classic 80’s Australian pub with a big band room, which I really liked even if it’s a bit rough and ready. There’s a special magic that comes with that, a raw and real romance and I feel, an opportunity to have a rare experience of a true, classic Aussie rock gig experience that harks back to the glory days of the 80’s.