Gordi Brings Some Much-Needed Sunshine At Intimate Newtown Gig

In recent weeks, Sydney’s rain has been relentless. Days on end have been spent dashing from one undercover area to the next – forcing pedestrians to crowd together and hide from the weather outside. 

Yet, despite its inconvenience, it is often in these times we’re forced together that some of the most human experiences can be found. 

Such was my experience this Saturday afternoon as I emerged from the pouring rain into the small cordoned-off area of HUM on King to watch Sophie Payton – better known as Gordi – perform intimate renditions of tracks off her new album Like Plasticine. 

Only a small crowd of twenty other people had braved the weather to fill the space, all of whom gave a polite applause as – silhouetted by a rain-splattered window – Payton mounted the matchbox stage at the fore of the store. 

She greeted us with a shyness more fitting of someone at the start of their career than the peak she stands at today. Though this shyness quickly dissipated as, slinging her acoustic guitar over her shoulder, she launched into a set of five intimate songs which amounted to nothing short of magic. 

When listening to Like Plasticine – Gordi’s first release in five years – one would have a hard time imagining what an acoustic version could possibly sound like.

Overflowing with lush arrangements that build into large, euphoric pop moments and heartbreaking moments of tragedy, it was Payton’s intention for the music on this record to evoke its own emotion separate from her poetry. 

This intention is overwhelmingly clear, and often incredibly powerful as many times her deep mournful tone is swallowed by the music around it. Repeatedly, at the conclusion of each track we are left to determine its resounding meaning purely from the arrangements that powered it.  

Yet, on a small stage in a record store, Sophie had none of these intricate arrangements at her fingertips. Instead, her lyrics were pushed to centre stage. 

In an interview afterwards, Payton told me that as much as she loves creating soundscapes and rich atmospheres on her records, she is a firm believer in the ‘campfire test’ – where a song should be able to stand up on its own without production. This being her first time performing these tracks in this manner, her performance at HUM was a beautiful opportunity to see people engaging with the tracks in a new way.   

“I went to painstaking effort to create the lyrics on this record. I wrote and redrafted and redrafted them… I do really love when the lyrics and the storytelling get to shine.”

But it wasn’t only the lyrics that shone as the Australian music icon delivered wholly new, emotionally resonant versions of album favourites Lunch at Dune, Peripheral Lover, and PVC Divide. As if the sun was listening to the music itself, halfway through the set a golden light miraculously began to beam through the gaping window behind her. And with the sun came a rush of people drawn by the intriguing sound of music from the store. 

A spectrum of parents, children, couples, and adoring fans began to cram the floor and press against record covered walls, as together we listened to Sophie detail moments from her life over the past five years. 

Some songs were built on anger from having to prove herself when she came out as queer, others were dressed with the grief from when she returned to her role as a medical professional in the face of COVID-19, and others were rooted in regret as she looked back on times in her life she will never live again. Yet throughout the performance, despite the punch-in-the-gut poetry, there was an undeniable positivity to how Gordi presented her music. 

At the conclusion, the room was abuzz. A beautiful energy had bound us all together that – as with Like Plasticine – was built from our mutual humanity and ability to forever keep moving forward. 

It was as if, through Gordi’s music, we had all been reminded that whether in heartbreak, pandemic or rain, the sun will always emerge again