From Home Brew to ANITYA: Tom Scott's night of throwbacks and transformations

Last night the air was thick with anticipation at The Civic, people pouring in to experience what this new chapter to Tom Scott's storied music career is all about.

In possibly what was his biggest show so far, The Civic seemed to just fill up steadily and solidly. Tom's distinct voice and raw, gritty lyricism over the years have become soundtracks through life's various junctures for his fans – from his early years with Home Brew, Avantdale Bowling Club or At Peace.

The show opens with Dai Henwood MCing a skit. It's at a karaoke bar featuring members of the ensemble as they sing versions of RnB classics- Tevin Campbell's 'Can we Talk' and Groove Theory's 'Tell Me'. Meanwhile, a bunch of tradies at a table on the stage chug back beers - one of them, a wigged Tom Scott who's really staying in role impressively well.

When he reappears to take the mic after a short break, he shows up in an ill-fitting grey suit, red shirt and a half-tied tie - you get the vibe. Opening with 'is this the intro or outro?' from his latest album ANITYA, he arrests the audience immediately with this sound – it's not the usual you'd think you'd hear from him. It's minimal, pared back but piercing.

Until you hear someone in the audience saying "Tom, your fly is undone!" No lie, it was, partially. Unapologetically.

Tom orchestrated the use of the clever decoy of humor, that for moments in between, took the edge of the heaviness of heartbreak, that, well, half of the album ANITYA is about.

What was striking about the concert was the emotional landscape of Tom's lyrics combined with an improvised intensity coming through from the band. The ensemble he put together - to my surprise - added new layers of expansion to the compositions on the album.

The show celebrated a sense of inclusivity from start to finish – from the artist playing the nose flute, the dancers, Swap Gomez on the drums and JY Lee bringing in that ethereal flute and sax sound, both seeming unflappable as always, and Maxx Gunn on keys, holding a vibe. The backing vocalists, bassist and guitarist were like gold dust on the sound.

Halfway through one of the tracks, the band break into a masterfully played afrobeats extension to the song with Tom stepping fully into an avatar of a griot-like storyteller. When they got to 'khloe' and 'how to perform a lobotomy', it's the hot and cold, tender and brutal contrast that grabs you - the sort of dichotomy Tom knows to deliver so smoothly.

There was 'till then' and 'gyal like you' and it began to now feel like songs from the new album were already set to become anthems and soundtracks to more lives across the motu.

The album was minimal, and felt lux and lush with its sound. The show, on the other hand, had several more layers of complexity, and thrills and frills that I hadn't quite come there expecting. I was actually hoping to sit back and take it in, close my eyes even - but events unfolded differently when I found myself standing up along with the crowd, surprising myself with how the new album had grown on me in all of two listens.

The show really was a testimony to how as an artist Tom can dive into tackling tender truths about love, sharp and cutting self-reflection, and a pinch of slapstick humour to string the entire experience together for his audience – faithful followers since long, or curious newcomers there to sample his unique offerings.

Summing it up, Tom put together a show that felt like a life and love story - sprinkled with some acidic political commentary of course. It was a curated and crafted journey through songs from ANITYA to 'Years Gone By' and some throwbacks, that masterfully took us on a journey. While the latest album is above love – finding and losing it – you can't expect that the night would end without Tom getting a bit political. He closed his show, rapping with signature rage and wit – making sure he threw in a shoutout in solidarity with Congo, Darfur, Palestine and West Papua.

The show was a "show" and I'm looking forward to quietly enjoying the contrast of the gentleness of the album under a real star-spangled sky, possibly something like the one at The Civic.