Concert review: Florence and the Machine at Adelaide’s Botanic Park

Never again should it be said the Poms can’t handle the heat. That theory was shot down in flames after a stunning performance from Florence and The Machine at Botanic Park on Wednesday night.

Florence and the Machine frontwoman Florence Welch, giving her all on a hot night at Adelaide’s Botanic Park. Picture Simon Cross/ The Advertiser.

Never again should it be said the Poms can’t handle the heat.

That theory was shot down in (not-quite-literal) flames after a stunning performance from Florence and The Machine at a sweltering Botanic Park on Wednesday night.

Two hours before lead singer Florence Welch was due on stage, security guards were spraying down the front row with a hose.

“Congrats on being the hottest place on the planet,” opener Marlon Williams told a happy but hot-and-bothered crowd.

So would Welch wither in the stifling conditions?

Back in the city where it all began, Welch recalled her debut Adelaide performance at St Jerome’s Laneway Festival in 2010, where she somehow miraculously caught a demo CD thrown from the crowd, despite having more than a couple of drinks under her belt.

“It’s still the best thing I’ve ever done,” she says with a laugh.

That was before she gifted her audience with 90 minutes of uplifting anthems, like Dog Days Are Over and Queen of Peace.

For the first three numbers, the shoeless Welch in a flowing white gown is a whirlwind of beautifully orchestrated movements; a heady mixture of pure theatricality with a touch of joyful abandon, the kind perhaps reserved for the privacy of bedrooms when the music is just right.

Keen to let her tunes do most of the talking, Welch admits to an adoring crowd she can be a bit overawed by large numbers of people.

Florence and the Machine performing at Botanic Park on Wednesday night Pictures Simon Cross/ The Advertiser.

“I’m a naturally anxious and worried person,” she says after nailing current hit, Hunger, in a gentle, well-rounded voice more reserved for a public library than a rock concert.

“I’m quite shy, speaking is hard for me. I speak to one to two people a day, so this is a lot.”

But as the set gathers momentum, Welch grows in stature.

On her first proper Australian tour - an opportunity that clearly means a lot - Welch uses her big moment to preach hope and perhaps gives the #MeToo movement a kickalong.

“There’s not much toxic masculinity to be found at a Florence and a Machine concert,” she says.

“It shows, by being here, you believe in women.”

She urges the crowd to be the change they want to see in the world.

“Please don’t give up hope.

“Hope is an action and I believe in you.”

She would have provided plenty of inspiration for young women in the crowd during killer renditions of Delilah and What Kind of Man.

Shedding all inhibitions, Welch joins the throng below for the night’s grandest moment.

Later, emboldened, she even asks the crowd to put away their phones – in a very polite English accent though it must be said.

By 10pm it’s still a sweatbox in the park but Welch, ever the trouper, hasn’t mentioned the heat once – keep cool and carry on seems to be the approach.

The ethereal, energetic Welch is far too plugged into her performance to mind, owning the stage like few have at Botanic Park before.

The biggest crowd reaction is reserved for Dog Days, and to watch Welch closely is to witness a performer who feels every note, every beat, every lyric, deeply.

The only downer of the evening is no trace of the equally rousing No Light, No Light in the set list.

Rounding off the night with Shake It Out, Welch proves you don’t need to shed clothes or rely on cheap gimmicks to make your mark in music; this wonderful performer is the very definition of grace and style with a voice few can match.