Silverchair Makes “Some Serious Rock ‘n’ Roll Noise”

The only reason Silverchair’s blistering Showbox performance didn’t surprise us: We had no idea what to expect from the band. We’d never seen them live, but we’d observed their gradual musical evolution from Frogstomp to Young Modern (out tomorrow) and didn’t know if they’d rock or pop through Friday’s show. Per our conversation with Ben, we knew not to expect much, if anything, from their first album, but otherwise we were clueless.

While opener You Am I jammed for the sellout house with old-school rock flair, we wandered the bars and outer circle of the (all-ages) floor, tuning into the crowd’s vibe. We heard foreign accents. Saw just one Frogstomp tee. It was a confident, rather than curious, air. Apparently everyone else did know what to expect—even though Silverchair hadn’t played Seattle since 1999.

The band—megastars in Australia since 1995, and all three still in their 20s—took the stage to massive applause. It was unlike anything we’d heard at a smaller Seattle show in years. But if the crowd’s enthusiasm was turned up to 10, singer/guitarist Daniel Johns’ beaming smile was at 11. Behind that wide grin, they opened with “Young Modern Station,” the first track on the new album. Girls and guys alike danced, right away, well beyond their personal bubbles, despite (we assume) not having heard the song outside of the Internets. Live, Silverchair made the album version of the song sound slick, squeaky clean, overproduced.

That was how the whole set went. Tracks from the less-heavy, more recent albums sounded heavier and more like stuff from Frogstomp and Freak Show (but paired with Daniel’s more recently applied higher pitch). On more than one occasion, we caught ourselves bouncing along to songs that play more mellow on the iPod.

A few times, Daniel got a little wacky on guitar—fuzzing out with “honorary member” Paul Mac’s pleasantly underlying keys—while Ben Gillies’ and Chris Joannou’s rhythm section patiently treaded water. That’s not to say the drums and bass ever faded into the background; Daniel just played the front man role to a T. We still can’t decide if his overhead, extended chomps on his guitar’s strings were awesome or silly. See for yourself.

Things got even heavier in the encore, despite it kicking off with a friend of the band proposing to his lady. (Daniel still managed to be the focal point, having come back to the stage shirtless.) Between jam-enhanced songs, he said something about making “some serious rock ‘n’ roll noise.” Whether he meant the crowd or the band, everyone—especially the swaying-drunk folks at the perimeter of the bar—raised their fists and complied. Silverchair then ripped into “Mind Reader,” another kinda-rock Modern track that sounded more raucous and ripe thrown down from the stage.

When the lights and the last riff had faded (and Ben and Chris had departed with gracious smiles and waves), Daniel threw out the last of many sincere thank-yous and—reluctantly—left the stage. To the Silverchair haters out there, believe it or not you missed a rockin’ show. You would have been pleasantly surprised.