Shut Your Mouth And Open Your Eyes
Review by Brittney McCarthy of BM Images
Press shot by Jacob Boll
AFI were an abstract backdrop to my teenage years, something intangible that coloured the way I moved through that time. I never connected their music to being something palpable for me to watch. I’d missed any visits to Australia, being “too young” according to my parents, and by the time I was old enough, my wallet deemed me “too poor” to ever see them live. Now that I've passed my mid-thirties, I have adult money and ageing bones, so I’m forking out for a seated ticket and flying to another state to catch them play at Enmore Theatre.
Their set opened with an ominous droning synth and a pulsing deep red light that engulfed the theatre. They stepped into view one by one to the crowd's cheers and whoops, Jade Puget held his guitar overhead, strutting across the stage. Seeing them materialise in front of my eyes, I was unable to control my emotions. They hadn’t even started bloody playing, and I was unexpectedly sobbing, my chest tight with joy.
Davey Havok sauntered out, taking his place centre stage, donning an Einstürzende Neubauten shirt beneath a black studded denim vest the back emblazoned with “Death Of The Party”. He stepped onto the light-up risers, thrusting his mic stand into the air and presenting it to the crowd as we all chanted, "Through our bleeding, we are one.". As Havok begins to sing, I am struck by how his distinctive voice is even better live than recorded, hitting his highs, lows, and screams to perfection.
An abrupt end to Strength Through Wounding as Havok threw the mic stand into the air behind him, and the band launches into Girl’s Not Grey. Burgan and Puget sang backup vocals, though the crowd eagerly sang along at every chance, drowning out their voices while we harmonised “What Folloooows…”. Havok jumped off the drum stand as the final note rang out in the song. He landed, slamming his fists into the stage, and the room went pitch black.
They played End Transmission next, from their 2009 album Crash Love. Havok finally spoke to the crowd, “Good evening and welcome, Sydney. We are AFI.” A spotlight shone on Puget as he played the intro to Beautiful Thieves, eventually illuminating every member except Havok, his silhouette dancing in the dark. His voice in this song was deeper than the recorded version. It was slow, wide, and heavy on the vibrato, reminiscent of Morrissey. His jaunty, theatrical movements were in juxtaposition with the song’s topic of reckless privilege. Again, Havok threw the mic stand behind him. The stage tech spent most of the night wrangling it back into position, since Havok kept launching it into the air at every opportunity.
My sobbing had slowed to a few stray tears at this point, just in time for Paper Airplanes. Drummer Adam Carson had his kit set low, clearly showcasing his skill, he was effortlessly powering through these songs. It was hard to take my eyes off him – which is saying something when our dark lord and saviour Davey Havok is prancing around in front of me.
I don’t think a group of people have ever been more prepared to yell a song in unison. We’d been training for this moment for over 20 years. The mic stand was presented to almost every face in the front row. Havok swings the mic like he is Roger Daltrey and deftly catches it to jump into the last verse and another Fred Astaire jig. At this point, where do you even look? Every member was doing everything they could to keep you entertained. Hunter Burgan was about to spin his way off stage.
Hollow chords and a stage drenched in blue for a brief pause before the rhythmic intro to 37mm pulsed throughout the room. To be honest, this song has never stood out to me, but this performance was quite special. The chorus effect on Puget’s guitar filled my ears and Havok’s voice was so beautiful and desperate that we were forced to shut our mouths and open our eyes in the church of AFI.
At times I would notice Puget at the front of stage, guitar hanging at his front, presented to the audience like an offering. His nonchalance in these moments was a stark contrast to his intense focus while playing.
The gentle ‘ooh oh’s’ that echoed between Havok and the crowd were the calm before the punk, as the band ferociously launched into The Lost Souls from their 2000 album The Art of Drowning. Havok’s screams and smooth voice fluidly alternated from verse to chorus. This song perfectly balances AFI’s punk roots with their emo melodicism.
Watching the show, you wouldn’t think that this was a band that has been performing for over three decades. Many consider their peak to have been in the 2000s when emo culture reigned supreme, a time when Davey Havok inspired every crush I’ve ever had to grow out their hair, buy some eyeliner, and confidently connect with their effeminate side.
I would argue that we are watching them at their peak. This moment, right now is the ultimate AFI. Their energy is relentless, their performance passionate, everything feels so fresh. I crave more from A Fire Inside and hope to see more releases that continue to push their sound and style, inspiring the direction of punk music.
Halfway through, we were treated to an emotional performance of I Hope You Suffer from their 2013 album Burials. Havok ran to the side of the stage to belt out the third verse, releasing his energy with repeated slaps to the wall. His presence, an art—vulnerable and absorbed in the moment—before he crouched at the front of the stage to the delight of fans, a sea of screens capturing the up-close serenade. “May you find my darkness, Sydney,” Havok declared.
You can hear the crowd asking for “one more song.” Havok, confused, asks "Are you saying one more song?" He laughs, "Cause we got a couple more, I don't want to disappoint you.” The chants continue. Again, he chuckles, “There’s not THAT many more, but there’s more than one. We can negotiate.” The demands from the crowd continued, so Havok pressed on, "Alright... this next song is… Fuckin’, it’s too fuckin’ old, man.” Third Season, released in ‘97 is in fact 28 years old and the earliest song from their catalogue we were treated to. After Third Season, the distinctive intro to Miss Murder rang out. Havok declared, 'Happy Mardi Gras!' before launching into one helluva interpretive dance—slut drops included.
Silver and Cold led us into the encore—an obvious crowd-pleaser—with everyone singing along with ease. They ended their set with The Days of the Phoenix, and Havok said, “We do not get to come here as frequently as we would like; you were absolutely wonderful.”
The setlist was a perfect mix of old and new, packing 17 songs into the hour-long set. While they left the crowd screaming for more, no number of songs could have satisfied the crowd’s hunger. I am glad we traveled to see them in Sydney at the Enmore Theatre; it would not have been the same experience watching them at Marvel Stadium where they played with Green Day.
This night… a delight, a joy, a treat, forever the standard by which all others will be measured.
