Sitting down at the Whitlams concert with my friend Emma, we worked out that the last three people we'd each been to watch the band with had died. It was a relief therefore that we made it out alive.
I didn't live in Australia when the Whitlams were in their pomp (in the 1990's) but I've seen them half a dozen times in a retrospective effort to catch up. Their music is an eclectic combination of political statements, melancholy tunes and upbeat toe-tapping rhythms. The thing that links everything together is the talent and charisma of front man Tim Freedman.
Half way through Freedman asked the crowd if we were all going to head to the National Gallery after the show as it was open 24 hours as part of a special celebration of female artists. Until that point we hadn't heard that it was an option, but with A&E at a sleepover we did go along after the Whitlams had finished their show (and two encores)
The gallery was buzzing with a pop-up bar and a DJ (who Emma knew). It was a wonderful 'vibe' there and there was a free table of sweets to tuck into. All in all, the combination of art, music and good company made for a really enjoyable night out.
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