Live Review: Gary Numan @ The Tivoli, May 27

When you hear the name Gary Numan, the iconic image of a pasty-faced, rigid standing, neatly suited young man glued to the same spot is probably the first thing that comes to mind.

What you probably don’t expect is a fit, tattooed man wearing doc martens and black eyeliner, bouncing around the stage as if possessed by the spirit of Jim Morrison. The latter is exactly what Gary Numan fans got on Tuesday, May 27, for Numan’s Brisbane show at The Tivoli.

As Numan takes the stage he is barely recognizable from his younger days. Not just because he physically looks different, but because he sounds different and he simply is different. Long gone are the days where Numan would stubbornly stand in the same spot for an entire show. So to, are the quirky synthpop sounds of his youth a distant memory. Whilst Numan’s new stage persona was a welcomed change, it was somewhat disappointing to see he had abandoned much of the original style that made him famous.  Nevertheless, Numan’s new material is stellar, undoubtedly his best work since 2000’s Pure; there is no denying he has done an excellent job of reinventing himself.  His new material is defined by a robust industrial sound, but at times it felt a little too ornate and lacked the subtlety of the classics.

The weaknesses of Numan’s new material were particularly apparent when contrasted against his old songs. Numan begins with the fragmented album opener from 2011’s Dead Son Rising – Resurrection - and his new album opener from Splinter – I Am Dust.  Whilst both songs hold up well and establish a lively atmosphere, when contrasted against his next song – Metal – they feel a little underwhelming. Despite lacking the intricate composition of I Am Dust and being mostly defined by a simple, but catchy synthesiser riff, 1979’s Metal feels more fresh and modern: 35 years later.

Because of the vast difference in style with Numan’s classics and his new material, the transitions between songs were also quite jarring. Numan sets up a dark menacing mood with his first two songs, but as he segues into Metal and Films, the downbeat cinematic mood of the songs from Splinter is squandered; the result is a show that you can never really get completely lost in. Listening to Splinter as an album is an immersive experience that fully guides you through Numan’s vision of a shadowy world filled with cruelty and menace, but this experience is lost in the live arena. 

However, there is plenty to be gained from Numan’s live show, such as his incredible stage presence and the increased resonance his songs assume when blasted through The Tivoli’s powerful sound system. Numan’s industrial rock music is the kind of sound that absolutely requires this kind of set-up to experience its full impact, and the result is not disappointing in the slightest, even if the disjointed set-list does take you out of the moment at times. As for Numan’s stage persona; if audience members had any doubts as to Numan’s vitality at age 56, these were all squandered after about five minutes of watching Numan strut about the stage, drowning himself in water and moving his arms like an orchestra conductor in time with the synthesiser strokes of songs like Down In The Park. At no moment does Numan’s antics feel fabricated or calculated; it truly just feels as if he loves every moment on stage.

 After Films, Numan plays a trio of more recent songs back to back. Here In the Black embodies much of what is good about Numan’s new style, but also his weaknesses. The song is defined by stabbing keyboard strokes and guttural whispering vocals, which both feel a little overblown and theatrical. The song’s best moments derive from short-lived synthesiser solos and at points when Numan pulls back on the theatrics. Numan’s new sound is powerful and absorbing, but as has always been the case with his music – less is definitely more. The same can be said about The Fall, a high-energy dance tune that feels a bit out of place in Numan’s array of otherwise bleak industrial rock showcase. The Calling picks up where the last two songs left a little to be desired; slowly building up momentum toward an eloquent synthesiser solo. Numan is a given a brief moment to breathe as he settles behind the synthesiser and it proves to be the most magical moment of the night; just the man and his machine.

With both the wonderful synthesiser solo on The Calling and Numan’s subsequent foray back into 1979 with Down In The Park, Numan shows us exactly where the magic of his formula derives from. Down In The Park adjusts the mood of the set to a sweeping dream-like reverie, demonstrating aesthetically where his new music differs and why it may not hold up as strongly. Whilst the songs from Splinter brim with the unbridled emotion absent from the classics, they are missing that magic element that made songs like Down In The Park classics: magic that derives from its delicacy and the ways in which Numan holds back. Great songs from Splinter like Everything Comes Down To This instead bombard you with emotion, which is exciting at first, but doesn’t leave the same imprint on you that more delicate songs like Lost do; a song which bears the last marks of Numan’s original vision.

The moment half the audience has probably been waiting for, Cars, arrives at the tail end of the set: a brief interlude into Numan’s past before he finishes with a full-throttle assault of songs from Pure and Splinter. This is not the Cars of 1979, however and is instead spliced up with guitar parts that detract from the original charm of the song. It’s not until the end of the encore that we get to hear anymore Numan classics, with I Die: You Die and Are ‘Friends’ Electric played back-to-back, and finally appended by My Last Day from Splinter. Whilst Are ‘Friends’ Electric predictably reaps the most enthusiastic response from the audience, ending with a new song was a wise choice on Numan’s behalf, as it leaves the audience with a final reminder that Numan is not simply living off the successes of his youth, but is still full of creative vigour.

Whilst this review has pointed out some of the weaknesses of Numan’s new vision there is no denying he has done a commendable job at reinventing himself; his efforts to create a new sound and full commitment to forging a new image are admirable and worthy of praise. Whilst the sounds of Splinter are well and truly divorced from the Gary Numan of yesteryear, they should ultimately be judged on their merits and in this way, they absolutely succeed.