News of Kele Okereke, of Bloc Party fame, wandering off to pursue a solo career in dance music was met with mixed reactions. It didn’t come as much of a surprise to loyal Bloc Party fans, who had over time felt the influence of the dancefloor creeping into Bloc Party’s work, culminating in the decidedly electronic textures of their most recent effort Intimacy. A hiatus was announced and Bloc Party’s members slowly but surely moved on to other things – including the release of Kele’s first solo album, The Boxer – with reactions varying wildly, from quiet approval to outright animosity.

Look, I’m not going to lie: I tended more towards the latter on my first listen of The Boxer. Trashy, thoughtless club beats and cookie-cutter electronic ballads were not what I’d come to expect from the leader of one of my favourite bands of all time. Fun, but ultimately a disposable listen. But being a Bloc Party fan since my teenage years and never having the chance to catch them live, who was I to pass up the chance to catch Kele on his lonesome, supported by Strange Talk at Billboard? I headed in to Melbourne’s CBD with not many expectations and a desire to have a filthy good time.

And you know what? Christ, that was the most fun I’ve had at a gig in a while. Walking in halfway into Strange Talk’s set I was greeted by the sight of a dancefloor filled with indie kids and party animals, all grinning and having a good time. Strange Talk I have little familiarity with, but their delightful mix indie-pop reminiscent of Phoenix and Cut Copy’s stylings won me over and provided a charming prelude to the main act of the night. Deftly navigating through an hour-long set, the boys managed to get the spare crowd who’d arrived early moving enthusiastically. Soon enough, though, they’d left the stage to cheers – letting Kele take over.

Opening with The Boxer’s first track, Walk Tall set the mood for the ninety-minute set to follow: vicious sawtooth synths and gunshot beats combined with Kele’s vocal gymnastics may have sounded slightly contrived on record, but in a live setting not even the most hard-hearted of critics could stop themselves from flailing wildly about as he howled on repeat “I’m getting taller!”

Kele’s presence was compelling immediately from the get-go – years of experience fronting Bloc Party have taught him many valuable lessons, it seems. Despite his almost godlike status within the indie music scene, his down-to-earth chatter between songs and interactions with the audience were warm and genuine.
Two songs in and he’d already made one lucky girl’s year with flirtatious banter, resulting in him borrowing her fur hat for the duration of the next song and dedicating it to her. Another excited girl was pulled onstage with him to chant the chorus of lead single Tenderoni with him and the rest of the audience. What a charmer – no wonder the crowd were hanging onto his every word.

While opinions were mixed on the content of his first album, recontextualised for a live audience and backed by a band of four, his music has an undeniable appeal to it. Tearing up Billboard were tracks like Everything You Wanted and one of the gig’s highlights, Unholy Thoughts – preceded by a little anecdote about said track being inspired by a chance meeting on his last trip to Melbourne. Represent!

For the more nostalgic Bloc Party fans in the audience, he’d redone tracks like One More Chance and This Modern Love, giving them extra sex appeal with gleaming electro synths and pulsing beats. (My personal highlight for the show: a delicious mash-up of two of my old Bloc Party favourites, Blue Light and The Prayer. Whoa.)

Recalled back to the stage for two encores after an initial hour-long set, Kele closed off the show with a rendition of All The Things I Could Never Say – an introspective, moody jewel that saw him leaning into the audience with his microphone, getting everybody to sing along with him. It was a poignant moment in what was otherwise a high-energy gig, uniting the audience as one with his lamenting words.

Sometimes a girl just doesn’t feel like listening to carefully-wrought and technically-impressive productions. Sometimes all you need is just a night of dancing for your life and mindless fun, and Kele sure as hell delivered the goods.