After a wet, rainy weekend the prospect of getting to West End on a Sunday night is quickly losing its appeal. Only Sun Kil Moon, otherwise known as singer-songwriter Mark Kozelek, could motivate me to leave the house on this exceptionally dreary evening. I arrive at the Hifi at 7.30pm sharp – drenched but excited. After some confusion at the entrance and after presenting what felt like a mountain of evidence that I am in fact from 4ZZZ, the particularly stringent door staff finally allowed myself and two other reviewers to go inside, on the strict proviso that there is to be no photography at tonight’s gig. My energy is nearly spent from negotiating my way in, and I agree to the conditions.

Once I step foot in the Hifi, it dawns on me that tonight is supposed to be a seated gig. The venue is decked out with rows of chairs and ticket holders are directed to their place by ushers, whilst punters with standing tickets have grouped together up the back. I feel odd – as though I’m here to see some sort of upmarket play rather than a concert. After legging it upstairs and securing a spot on the mezzanine, I wait for the evening to properly commence.

Sun Kil Moon grace the stage at about eight-forty – fairly prompt for gig standards. The boisterous crowd immediately fell quiet. I have never heard such deafening silence at a gig before – the anticipation is palpable, but the silence feels somewhat unnatural. There is a weird atmosphere. Everything feels a little too formal. Perhaps it’s because Love Police promoted the tour as, 'A special Australian tour at venues worthy of such grandeur,’ or maybe it’s the fact that we’re in for a two and a half hour set with no support act and no photography allowed. Either way I have an uneasy sense that I have to follow the rules tonight. Rules or obedience in a concert setting is a concept I have never really considered before.

Upon walking out on stage, Kozelek immediately starts counting the audience members. "Six. Six guys all in the front row. That’s what I have to look at tonight. Oh, you have a girlfriend? Good for you.” Laughter erupts from the audience. Kozelek seems intent on loosening up the crowd, but it certainly takes some coaxing. Midway through his set, Kozelek exclaimed, "I don’t know what to do with this crowd. No one wants to talk to me. I don’t know how to do this crowd."

Musically, Sun Kil Moon sound beautiful, powerful and poignant. It feels as though the Hifi was built to house this lovely stripped back, acoustic style. The tinkling of the piano and pattering of drums are the perfect accompaniment to Kozelek’s commanding vocals. The trio create amazing, haunting music that can take you from joyful to devastated in mere seconds.

Having never seen Sun Kil Moon live before, I am astonished that Kozelek is able to remember the words to every track with such accuracy. His writing feels like story telling – so complex and layered. I imagine it would be like memorising a novel. Song’s like ‘Carissa’ and ‘I can’t Live without My Mother’s Love’ are such intriguing, involved stories – it is wonderful to see them performed live.

Though his album Benji is largely considered a dark, gloomy affair, some of this evening’s highlights are Kozelek’s comedic quips and parody songs. ‘Nandos Chicken’ is introduced as a rethink of Goyte’s hit, ‘Somebody that I used to Know.’ The tune is about Kozelek’s desire to ‘fuck’ the girl who works at the Nandos across from his hotel. I feel conflicted in that I find Kozelek’s humour engaging, yet also find his tendency to fall into soft misogyny really off-putting. From hitting on a girl in the audience, to claiming that only boys like vinyl, "no girl has asked me to sign a vinyl in 23 years. Vinyl is a boy’s world," he laments. There were a few jokes that walked the line between provocative and downright offensive. Anyone who knows Kozelek or his humour knows what to expect, though I admit that some of his comments caught me a little off guard.

Despite his self-assuredness (some might say cockiness) and shall we say, unrefined jokes Kozelek really gives the impression that he cares about the crowd. He asks on several occasions if the audience are having a good time, and he even apologises for, "being a dick." He profusely thanks the fans for their support over the years, and for being such a, "polite and respectful audience."

After the set concludes, Kozelek wastes no time in coming back for an encore. Though he is scheduled for two and a half hours he easily plays for three. The last half hour does start to drag a little – perhaps I am unaccustomed to such long set times. Despite that – I had an amazing evening. Kozelek is a skilled performer. His mix of comedy and reflective, insightful musicianship is an oddly captivating combination that kept me hooked all night long. Seeing Sun Kil Moon live is an entirely different experience to playing one of his albums. Both are enjoyable, but incomparable. Mark Kozelek is a talented man, but somewhat of a divisive figure – I highly recommend seeing him live before making up your mind.

- Sarah McGowan