There was a certain cinematographic energy as I was slowly walking into a theatre with white rays of lights, blurred with smoke, seeping through the wide open doors. The ICC Sydney had never felt so ethereal. Though I didn’t quite catch onto the memo, it was unifying to see the sea of people wearing black and white outfits, a clear indication that the fans know not only the music, but the whole atmosphere that Cigarettes After Sex bring.
I chose to go alone. I tend to like sharing the experience with the people around me, but going to this show alone just felt right. I found my seat and brought out my notebook. While waiting for the band to come on, I sat sketching the album covers that were rotating on the screens. The music playing was hauntingly beautiful, in a way that made me feel like I was listening to ‘Wicked Game’ by Chris Isaak while swaying in the rain.
Cigarettes After Sex have a very alluring nature, so much so that they put on a satisfyingly full show, even without having a support act. The band were introduced by a cinematically orchestrated instrumental. Opening with title track ‘X’s’ from their latest album, I was instantaneously immersed in a ‘90s sitcom tragic romance. The imagery of a night sky, a full moon, and smoke machine-induced clouds, filled the room with a biblical energy (some may say heavenly).
The following set consisted of some of their most beloved songs ‘Sunsetz’, ‘Heavenly,’ and ‘Apocalypse’. It was the embodiment of the chaos of loving and missing someone simultaneously. Though the crowd was singing along loudly, it didn’t overbear the hypnotic music coming straight from the band.
With the feeling of every beat of the drums in my chest, alongside the emotive nature of the band’s music, I instantly teared up at the beginning of every song. Frontman Greg Gonzalez’ soothing vocals sounded just like the studio tracks. It was a dream-like experience every time I stopped to close my eyes, listen, and just breathe. I went into a deep introspective state that went beyond the lyricism of the songs they played; it was inherently part of the soul of the show.
Veering away from the typical set up of a concert, the band decided not to do an encore. It was the type of show that having no encore was, in fact, more impactful and fitting. With the absence of a support act and an encore, Cigarettes After Sex truly asserted the fullness of their presence, music, and performing. Though the audience engagement throughout the show wasn’t a notable factor — due to the nature of the performance — the band went down to the stalls to give out drumsticks and guitar picks, ensuring the audience knew they were loved and appreciated.
I left the venue and walked to Central Station. I looked up at the full blood moon shining down on me. I smiled, and continued humming ‘Sunsetz’ all the way home.
