tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79455276455025541392024-03-09T12:58:53.948-08:00Interviews/ReviewsAn archive of articles by Andy Hazel.Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.comBlogger520125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-83363727996456524222024-02-22T17:44:00.000-08:002024-02-24T17:47:57.082-08:00Kings of Convenience, Magic Steven and Banjo Lucia<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKyNfUbRZOn7QPrCkUCQhzk4XyLJNfagEEOoKx6hwHkkG_fbxMKAFBsOzJdI8P2SYMTdGywC8lEdtMPGidE2dCSUDv0gHSpxnMesEUWprKIwHC6dmNSJIo6qXcqjMYCvSLd4Sxd68jdlamoXB0cfYLh-FaUGnr5oq29G-6sTCSrVupDgBDFLrX-RyRblo3/s4032/Kings-of-Convenience.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2593" data-original-width="4032" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKyNfUbRZOn7QPrCkUCQhzk4XyLJNfagEEOoKx6hwHkkG_fbxMKAFBsOzJdI8P2SYMTdGywC8lEdtMPGidE2dCSUDv0gHSpxnMesEUWprKIwHC6dmNSJIo6qXcqjMYCvSLd4Sxd68jdlamoXB0cfYLh-FaUGnr5oq29G-6sTCSrVupDgBDFLrX-RyRblo3/w400-h258/Kings-of-Convenience.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><h3 style="text-align: left;">The Forum</h3><p></p><p>"I am wearing a boob tube and... fuck. I mean, I have never worn one before and it is freezing up here." Fremantle singer-songwriter and pianist <b>Banjo Lucia</b> laughs and takes a sip from a sippy cup that, like her clothing, also becomes the subject for extremely personable chit-chat. Lucia has been steadily building a career as a sassy and insightful performer who, much like an ocker Joanna Newsom or Fiona Apple, has a penchant for songs that have few chords, a lot of lyrics and fluid vocal melodies. What really stands out from her brief set is her personality. “I had to walk in the rain before and I have bangs so you can imagine how traumatising that was,” she deadpans before breaking into a smile. "Anyway, this next song is a cover of a song by Cher. It's a very obscure, low-key track you've probably never heard before, uhh...it's called <i>Believe</i>." While the interpretation offers nothing new, and her own songs like <i>Big Big Fish</i> and the closing <i>That's Not Loving</i>, showcase a reality television show's worth of melisma and a tendency to use four notes when one will do, there is a talent and a personality here that could fuel a record label for years. It’s an odd thing to write about a singer-songwriter who writes such deeply personal songs, but Lucia is so funny and engaging and such brilliant company that you wish she would put more of herself into the songs, or at the very least announce a stand-up show. </p><p>Unusually, tonight's second support act, <b>Magic Steven</b>, is not a musician. Steven, a middle-aged man in a cap pulled down over his handsome face, reads to us from a notebook. Over the course of the next 25 minutes, we are told detailed and compelling descriptions of a personal search for meaning in day-to-day life. Beginning with a forensic linguistic analysis of bookmarks, Steven progresses to reading a book about creativity that provides him with the inspiration to "look for clues". Tricking his body into changing his mind's relationship with caffeine, his darkly comic journey gradually becomes more focused and curiously profound. However, a reading this drily humorous and well-constructed is one that rewards attention, and few in the room have the patience for Steven's odd mix of philosophy and humour. He loses the crowd, yet this only gives his performance more meaning. That he is reading a story about paying closer attention to the world around him as the world goes on without him adds a layer of pathos. By the time he is describing the surprisingly profound impact of the abysmally reviewed Christmas film Holly and the Hot Chocolate, and he shares its message, "When something out of the ordinary happens, you should pay attention,” something out of the ordinary is happening. That almost no one seems to be paying attention is oddly perfect. Magic Steven is an inspired choice for an opening act. Seek him out.</p><p>By the time <b>Kings of Convenience</b> arrive, the Forum is full of chattering couples and groups of friends who are rapidly turned into excited versions of their younger selves as the duo of Erlend Øye and Eirik Glambek Bøe wait for the cheering to die down before speaking. </p><p>"Hello, we are Kings of Convenience," says Bøe with his appealingly strong Norwegian accent. Opening with a stunning version of <i>Comb My Hair</i> the duo's delicately plucked guitars – one nylon string the other steel string – blend together so mellifluously that it makes you wonder whether the contribution of electricity to popular music might have been overrated. The voices of the two men and their close harmony style of singing is breathtakingly simple and effective. The following songs, their 2021 single <i>Rocky Trail</i> and an immaculately succinct version of one of their best known songs, <i>Cayman Islands</i>, </p><p>While their music is so gentle and intimate it is essentially a cashmere cardigan rendered as a series of three-minute acoustic ballads, Kings of Convenience are eager to let us know their shows are not a place for maudlin introspection. "Can you snap your fingers?" asks Erlend Øye. We snap our fingers. “Yes, you can,” he nods. As we follow the rhythm of his nod, our clicking becoming an introduction to their song <i>Angel</i>.</p><p>Once the belletristic chime of his melodic refrain dies down and our cheering fades, Bøe gives us some history to their next song. “We come from the city of Bergen, Norway," he says, "When you grow up there you feel like there is not very much going on. Or you feel there is something going on but it’s elsewhere." The song inspired by the first book to take place in Bergen, Agnar Mykle's <i>The Song of the Red Ruby</i>, is the stunning <i>Love is a Lonely Thing</i>. <i>Catholic Country</i> and <i>Homesick</i> follow, all impeccably written paeans to quiet living and huge emotions that grow exponentially with entwining guitar parts and Simon and Garfunkel harmonies that are so beautifully arranged that sound so simple you know they must have been hewn with great care. For their song <i>Know-how</i>, the women of the audience take the part recorded by Feist, with the men joining later to create a surprisingly impactful choir. </p><p>Throughout the concert Øye and Bøe have shared the stage with a bass amplifier and drum kit. Finally, they are employed by what the duo refers to as their "Mexican backing band". The members were introduced by Øye but his accent was so strong and their names so Mexican that I hesitate to transcribe them. Regardless, once their skills are employed, we are dancing. Again, the simplicity and care of the arrangements of these songs feels almost miraculous. Who knew you needed so few sounds to make a song this full? <i>Fever</i>, <i>Boat Behind</i>, <i>Rule My World</i> and <i>I'd Rather Dance with You</i> seem to invent a new genre. "Acoustic disco" sounds awful, but Kings of Convenience manage to make two acoustic guitars, bass and drums sound as epic as anything Giorgio Moroder cooked up. As soon as they leave, we decide we would like much more of this so cheer them back. Øye and Bøe return for a hushed encore of 24-25 and the full band join them for a finale of <i>Scars on Land</i>, the closing song from their 2012 album <i>Declaration of Dependence</i>. For a band who manage to somehow sound better with age, it's a safe bet no one filing out of the Forum tonight wants to wait another 11 years for a show like this. </p><p> </p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-56201704723432404762024-02-22T04:30:00.000-08:002024-02-24T17:48:19.037-08:00Live Review: Cavetown, Aleksiah<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzLjt2-sMXZmsBtGHvgb-WjqbeUaZy1T9Ahy9d8XhFaDQ9pfwsUA4N8ZezDbaK7w-S3OswkGJxvisF5bBKppqhrPo9km9mVoO8wxEU5-a9NGIboobinuusAg5IJYTrXlghCoDpTl-xCtmHqryBbNSuMueWP74IAZkSakKQrQxlm-_aOy12feqQ5O3J9-B/s1797/Cavetown_Melbourne_SQ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1797" data-original-width="1797" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzLjt2-sMXZmsBtGHvgb-WjqbeUaZy1T9Ahy9d8XhFaDQ9pfwsUA4N8ZezDbaK7w-S3OswkGJxvisF5bBKppqhrPo9km9mVoO8wxEU5-a9NGIboobinuusAg5IJYTrXlghCoDpTl-xCtmHqryBbNSuMueWP74IAZkSakKQrQxlm-_aOy12feqQ5O3J9-B/w400-h400/Cavetown_Melbourne_SQ.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><h3 style="text-align: left;"><b>The Forum </b></h3><p></p><p>"Oversold," is how tonight's show is described by a box office staffer. And it certainly seems so. A long queue of curly haired kids in anime-hued clothes, some caped in trans and pride flags with headphones curled around their dyed hair, snakes from the doors of the Forum throughout the city. Occasional squeals emerge from mouths covered by hands, some leap in the air to release the nervous tension coursing through the line. </p><p>The reason that this all-ages show sold out in 48 hours is down to one person, Robin Skinner, the artist better known as <b>Cavetown</b>. Since the release of their debut album in 2015, Cavetown has drawn a deep and abiding passion among a certain section of music fandom, one that grew exponentially during Covid lockdowns when intimate vocals best listened to on headphones, gently strummed acoustic guitars and ASMR-adjacent electronica became especially popular. These textural qualities that can often be a challenge to translate to the stage, especially when performing to an audience as vocally passionate as tonight’s. However, while this crowd is in a very forgiving mood, it quickly becomes clear nothing needs forgiving.</p><p>Opening four-piece <b>Aleksiah</b> is a vehicle for singer-songwriter Alexia Damokas whose tight backing band peel indie pop riffs off angular Fenders while she lingers over vocal melodies on a series of mellow tunes like her first single, <i>Fern</i>. "I wanna put you on a pedestal / Eat you like a cannibal / Maybe it's chemical / But I wanna keep you like a fucking collectible," she sings to bursts of emphatic appreciation and a forest of heart hand gestures. “We're going to play a couple of love songs, so give the person you’re with a big hug and a kiss," Damaokas tells the crowd. "Consensually, of course”. The band's closing song and latest single, 24, is perhaps their strongest. Here, the balance between the sweetness of the music, the subversion of the lyrics, the athleticism of the rhythm and the originality of the melodies reach an apex.</p><p>While Aleksiah successfully harnessed the optimism in the room and delivered at least one song that should feature in next year's Triple J Hottest 100, louder cheers of excitement came with the arrival of Cavetown's roadies who gesture for calm as they try to prepare the stage for the main event. The need to let off nervous energy is extreme. The pre-show music, a selection of classic indie pop plays quietly. The crowd is full of polite excitement and enthusiastic respect until the moment the lights dim, and all sense of decorum and quietude vanish. Screaming to rival the appreciation shown in the MCG over the weekend dies down as Skinner and the band arrive on stage and play the opening bars of <i>Worm Food</i>. "Why does this matter so much to me?” sings Skinner over keenly strummed chords. “Sometimes, I wish I didn't matter to anybody / And sometimes, I forget I do”.</p><p>Buoyed by the reaction from the crowd, Cavetown play like a band who know they can't fail. Their songs are simple, even as the music varies between manic hyperpop and the aural equivalent of a fidget spinner. Skinner’s lyrics are heartfelt and clearly deeply personal. A pale English waif who resembles a young Weird Al Yankovic, their voice manages to sound intimate, even over the hurricane of love coming from the crowd. While they sing softly, their body courses with joy. Skinner runs across the stage, arms outstretched, gesturing for the crowd to be even more vocal in their appreciation. </p><p>"What the heck is up with you guys?" they ask during a rare quiet moment between songs. "Thank you for being so welcoming and so happy to see me. I have a question for you. Do you like frogs?" The crowd screams in affirmation, knowing that this must mean their song <i>Frog</i> is next. "Is that a no?" deadpans Skinner. "You might like this next song, is what I’m saying." This kind of playfulness recurs throughout the night. While many of Skinner's lyrics explore complex subjects – mental health, loneliness, gender identity, the pressures of growing up in an oppressive society – with an intensely humanistic approach, there is never any sense of wallowing or angst. Songs like <i>Heart Attack</i> and new single <i>Let Them Know They're on Your Mind</i> are glorious affirmations of self, and ones that clearly and deeply resonate with the audience tonight, who find a place to put that nervous energy. "Sometimes I act like I know / But I'm really just a kid / With two corks in his eyes / And a bully in his head", Skinner sings in <i>Juliet</i>.</p><p>“I don’t know about you guys," they say in their clipped English tones, "but I feel like a little soft song. This is a song for little Juno." Skinner accompanies themselves on guitar for a song about their cat, a sweet ballad that inspires a thousand phones to be waved aloft, lights shining in the soft blue air of the room.</p><p>"Thanks for having such an awesome country I wish that everyone I loved lived here so I didn't have to leave," Skinner tells us, as a prelude to a story about finding "a squishy thing on a beach" that really emphasises their Englishness.</p><p><i>1994</i>, <i>Hug All Ur Friends</i>, <i>Fall in Love with a Girl</i> and <i>Laundry Day</i> follow, each finding Skinner pacing the stage with a pride flag emblazoned with the band's name across it. He spins it in the air, drapes it over his shoulders and ties it to the microphone stand, by which time we find ourselves racing toward the end of the concert. It is here that Cavetown plays their best known songs and those few unmoved members of the crowd find their voices. <i>Lemon Boy</i> turns the crowd into a choir and <i>This is Home</i> inspires an even more colossal response with its refrain: "Get a load of this train-wreck / His hair's a mess and he doesn't know who he is yet / But little do we know, the stars / Welcome him with open arms".</p><p>After Cavetown leaves the stage and the lights fall to black, the crowd responds with one of the loudest chants of "one more song" that this writer has ever heard. The band return for the gently daft Boys Will Be Bugs and the heaviest song of the night, one that even flirts with atonality, <i>Devil Town</i>. The song’s very controlled and metal-inspired bombast sees Skinner depart the stage, cardboard crown on their head and arms aloft, signifiers, as if they were needed, that this night was a triumph.</p><p> </p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-25009289169335445382024-02-19T19:27:00.000-08:002024-03-09T12:58:22.152-08:00Live Review: Taylor Swift's Eras Tour<span id="docs-internal-guid-6e5fd5fd-7fff-a7f4-18c1-ab423c70bec0"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;"></span></p><h3 style="font-weight: bold; text-align: left;">Photography: Barry C. Douglas</h3><div style="font-weight: bold;"><span><b><br /></b></span></div><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6CS7eMhHsZPjYuQ8Z2hG3zxH3rWNKKY4_lxlBex8Rb1wX_gbGzfOLH47Y0noP7XJ7H082FUdqZ7wIN7ylvbiyd9Dycel9d3d4gQiLyQiGktQ9SEZ2e7uzOF5igj7ulcx63A-XHXuq9fOV8QElGRaZHA7VSd1uCi24Gcy0PsIhXzpfefOqk21fcNX3XD06/s6720/C99A8965.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4480" data-original-width="6720" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6CS7eMhHsZPjYuQ8Z2hG3zxH3rWNKKY4_lxlBex8Rb1wX_gbGzfOLH47Y0noP7XJ7H082FUdqZ7wIN7ylvbiyd9Dycel9d3d4gQiLyQiGktQ9SEZ2e7uzOF5igj7ulcx63A-XHXuq9fOV8QElGRaZHA7VSd1uCi24Gcy0PsIhXzpfefOqk21fcNX3XD06/w400-h266/C99A8965.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><b>Melbourne Cricket Ground, February 16, 2024</b></div></b></span><div><br /></div><div><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">"My songs are autobiographical," Taylor Swift tells the audience at the first of her seven sold-out Australian shows. As with anything Swift says while at the Melbourne Cricket Ground, 96,000 people scream their appreciation back at her. "Dear Diary" songs, as she also calls them, are typically the domain of a writer lacking in imagination or curiosity, but in the case of Swift, self-reflection is a superpower. Attention is lavished on feelings and incidents with an intoxicating sense of validation. As anyone who has visited Melbourne or Sydney recently can attest, swarms of bedazzled fans in sequins, glitter, cowboy boots, hats, capes, flowing dresses and pastel bodysuits have responded to this validation with collectivist glee.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-style: italic; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">The Eras tour showcases music Swift has made over the last 18 years: from her time as an aspiring teenage country pop singer to world-conquering cultural juggernaut. Each of her ten albums is an "era", defined by its own colour scheme, costuming, choreography and staging. Hours before showtime, thousands of people thronged the grounds around the MCG, trading homemade wristbands. This tradition dates back to late 2022 when Swift sang “So, make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it,” and has </span><a href="https://www.abc.net.au/news/2024-02-14/bead-shelves-bare-thanks-to-taylormania/103463692" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">resulted</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> in a national shortage of beads.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9oaqzs4hBO88n9sPjK08PVTR8iVwcfR4Rx37eyENAh6fV1otugyhIaicOLaW3D4kcRYCFpB9OpVF_QUViZf2sfAC10AbS59D6kYugWN6uym6fmoq-r6aPT1Q9rwV0GxfOv12XlHYXHhbOGvW9X8rDVPexW_qTWS0K5AvHQ-yG1MEuyGybGDg2a_jqM1RF/s6720/C99A8865.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4480" data-original-width="6720" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9oaqzs4hBO88n9sPjK08PVTR8iVwcfR4Rx37eyENAh6fV1otugyhIaicOLaW3D4kcRYCFpB9OpVF_QUViZf2sfAC10AbS59D6kYugWN6uym6fmoq-r6aPT1Q9rwV0GxfOv12XlHYXHhbOGvW9X8rDVPexW_qTWS0K5AvHQ-yG1MEuyGybGDg2a_jqM1RF/w467-h311/C99A8865.jpg" width="467" /></a></span></div><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline;">You have likely read similar trivia and statistics that have excitedly contextualised the arrival of Eras, the most lucrative tour of all time. Tonight’s crowd is the biggest of her career. Evidence of her impact on local and national economies is well documented. Outside the stadium, merchandise stalls are replete with price tags that have scant regard for the cost of living crisis, yet she could (by </span><a href="https://www.smh.com.au/culture/music/taylor-swift-releases-more-tickets-for-melbourne-and-sydney-shows-20240213-p5f4fd.html" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline;">one</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"> metric) have sold out the MCG 40 times over.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">“18 years of music, one era at a time. How does that sound to you, Melbourne?” Swift asks, to a response that sounds like 40 MCGs. “My name is Taylor; I’ll be your host for tonight.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Beginning with the pastel tones of her 2019 </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Lover </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">album and its songs </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> and </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Cruel Summer</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">, Swift’s voice – a soprano that finds its depth and strength through layering rather than range or ornamentation – is always in service of the story she is telling. Her uncomplicated yet deceptively well produced music also works to support her narrative worlds. Lighting effects, props, video art and a boutique’s worth of costumes are employed to explicate the themes of the show’s 45 songs. Video screens cover the catwalk and stage, their imagery pushing our attention back toward Swift or dazzling us with world building as costume and set changes take place at a breathtaking speed. In one particularly striking moment that closes her </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">1989 </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">era, Swift "dives" into the catwalk, appears to swim its length and emerges at the rear of the stage in a different outfit to climb a ladder into a cloud that floats upward. Searchlights strafe the skies above us to let the heavens know just how sure she is that </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">. Confetti blasts from white lights like a snowstorm for the cold facts of </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">All Too Well</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">. Flames leap skyward around the stadium to let </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Bad Blood.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> Swift's </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Karma </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">comes with a pyrotechnic display that evokes Sydney on New Year's Eve. Eras is a spectacle that matches the intensity of the emotions around it.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlEhTyvwaRaxXezinPSYg1PBocz9s5YfrRE-rXKfozU5VaGLEGpLzgKVrOnKt3Y1Yk7wDFoex7hTfWBkYJEpizguV3gMi0Y9XCn98e4ZSWMqZqBarAuTf5P_TK-icolqMM1d62x997K8-8aXRrb5aWvvnfVka-bY4_tets_JmG1LTMhs_TeFtFIPcFjI_q/s6720/C99A8952.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4480" data-original-width="6720" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlEhTyvwaRaxXezinPSYg1PBocz9s5YfrRE-rXKfozU5VaGLEGpLzgKVrOnKt3Y1Yk7wDFoex7hTfWBkYJEpizguV3gMi0Y9XCn98e4ZSWMqZqBarAuTf5P_TK-icolqMM1d62x997K8-8aXRrb5aWvvnfVka-bY4_tets_JmG1LTMhs_TeFtFIPcFjI_q/w400-h267/C99A8952.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">There are also moments of sublime calm and near silence. For her arboreal </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">evermore </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">era, Swift performs in a green velvet cloak followed by dancers with orange orbs. The stadium in reverential silence, awaiting her appearance and letting mellow guitar arpeggios fade into the vacuum over our heads. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">folklore</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">, an album she wrote while "a lonely millennial woman at home watching TV, drinking white wine and covered in cat hair," takes place in an imagined forest cabin, brought to life on stage. Many songs are separated by keenly told personal reflections and stories and, like the lyrics, these are also known almost word for word by the crowd. Sitting at a moss-covered piano for her ballad </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Champagne Problems</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> (about the refusal of a marriage proposal) she is – at least momentarily – caught off guard by our response to the performance. "You guys!" she mouths, her eyes bright with tears. "Oh my God." While it is hard to be sure, this moment feels very genuine. Several minutes pass before she tells us, “I really do love coming to Australia.”</span><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Authenticity is difficult to verify in a show as carefully staged as this, but analysing whether something Swift expresses is true is an impossible task, particularly when it is overwhelmed by the integrity of the response it engenders. That she recycles the same chords, rhythm and tempo from </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Champagne Problems</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> for her ten-minute epic </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">All Too Well</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> and that they are the same chords, rhythm and tempo as U2's </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">With or Without You</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> is similarly beside the point. The sheer force of personality and the way it becomes part of the openness and accessibility of her songs is what makes the greatest impact. When Swift sings "fuck the patriarchy" and tens of thousands of young women and girls scream along with her, is this the passing of a torch or a sign that those words are now an empty touchstone? Either way it is, like so much of tonight, another cause for collective euphoria.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><br /></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Hp_abaNTU37TCUZbdCVtUY8wR9mvcHZtNw76mQMCILxiVYCov2gwDoxX2XkYluQdCOSKYW0-lDAkNTOP_AElDpAGMh1NrxyPOTiCtPfLjCnFW6u3z-egBL-1K8csNjYXipoBPfNh1pTMHvkV9rRylcvpgE9A9ZU4PFmkXtS6nHQ4zbuJ_49ElOTX5yjF/s6720/C99A8943.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4480" data-original-width="6720" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Hp_abaNTU37TCUZbdCVtUY8wR9mvcHZtNw76mQMCILxiVYCov2gwDoxX2XkYluQdCOSKYW0-lDAkNTOP_AElDpAGMh1NrxyPOTiCtPfLjCnFW6u3z-egBL-1K8csNjYXipoBPfNh1pTMHvkV9rRylcvpgE9A9ZU4PFmkXtS6nHQ4zbuJ_49ElOTX5yjF/w400-h266/C99A8943.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">It is this response that often missing from assessments of Swift’s songs and her concerts. Joy is rarely regarded as a serious product of art, particularly when expressed by young women, and it takes a Herculean effort to remain unmoved when Swift approaches my section of the crowd. Girls, many bedecked with wristbands and glitter, scream, weep and clutch each other, overwhelmed at the reality-warping significance of her presence. Particularly during the </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">1989</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> era, when Swift celebrates her discovery of maximalist pop with songs like </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Shake it Off</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">, </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Style</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> and </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Blank Space that</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> parents, first aid staff and security guards can’t help themselves from filming.</span><p></p><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Three months ago, Swift was named </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">TIME Magazine's Person of the Year</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">. "She became the main character of the world," </span><a href="https://time.com/6342806/person-of-the-year-2023-taylor-swift/" style="text-decoration-line: none;"><span style="color: #1155cc; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; text-decoration-line: underline; text-decoration-skip-ink: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">wrote</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"> Sam Lansky. Not only because she is one of the most successful businesswomen in history and with a cultural power that has presidents craving her favour, but she is a storyteller who has built a career validating womanhood. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 12pt; margin-top: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgysewcQJfsrsVLAacVGBfYLVNje4Ps6P-DIB6-baiP3WDjlEfnmItgCQnUBp2bPjDbM4nClIKYLbu6RO7d3KRnu8y0-va4XfZpTN1C1WFL0OoMcTNOi2T3RbZzFAgRnbZDlgf1QQLx6_MxipSAUB1-A3HdtokYY6TXqFpIb0QV3i-BLEnqBjcNO2dpS-xx/s4037/TAS_4018.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2693" data-original-width="4037" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgysewcQJfsrsVLAacVGBfYLVNje4Ps6P-DIB6-baiP3WDjlEfnmItgCQnUBp2bPjDbM4nClIKYLbu6RO7d3KRnu8y0-va4XfZpTN1C1WFL0OoMcTNOi2T3RbZzFAgRnbZDlgf1QQLx6_MxipSAUB1-A3HdtokYY6TXqFpIb0QV3i-BLEnqBjcNO2dpS-xx/w400-h266/TAS_4018.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Much like her best songs are loaded with specificities (a forgotten scarf, a saltbox house, cheer captains and bleachers) their enactment is full of details that tie them to their era and to the events that inspired them. It's both a way into these very personal songs, and a narrative world carefully constructed to feel closer to her, even on this gargantuan scale.</span><p></p><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"></p><p></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">In her book </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Fairy Tale Princesses Will Kill Your Children</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">, Jane Gilmore describes Swift as a woman who "wrapped herself in the princess daydream and subverted it into the patriarchy's worst nightmare: an intelligent, ambitious woman who rejects marriage and has the power to choose the success of her own creativity as her happy ever after." Tonight, we saw autobiography rewritten as romance. As Swift sings in her final era, </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">Midnights</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space-collapse: preserve;">, “I guess sometimes we all get just what we wanted.”</span></p></div>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-11915967979032780412024-02-04T05:30:00.000-08:002024-02-11T23:32:58.393-08:00Live Review: The Native Cats, Parsnip, Ov Pain<h3 style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2wEJKVZ7S6MeOB8hyfiWcTalBW_GQa-3SLC9vUHaqq6FJVbDTU_YfdQujERTjAXstjo1XMwHHjFi2lSDz1dsX_irfRQ21jvP16IRRvImAWOGn0PmR7PCSjadcaPboCWJirdaArvVGL2WDaDg7y_Og81Uk4UZrjOroaSvrr4Gpr57FASVLwOv3rqWCYun/s2500/The-Native-Cats,-Feb-3,-2024-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1875" data-original-width="2500" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2wEJKVZ7S6MeOB8hyfiWcTalBW_GQa-3SLC9vUHaqq6FJVbDTU_YfdQujERTjAXstjo1XMwHHjFi2lSDz1dsX_irfRQ21jvP16IRRvImAWOGn0PmR7PCSjadcaPboCWJirdaArvVGL2WDaDg7y_Og81Uk4UZrjOroaSvrr4Gpr57FASVLwOv3rqWCYun/w400-h300/The-Native-Cats,-Feb-3,-2024-3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The Curtin Bandroom</h3><p>Outside it is a hot, humid night, but in The Curtin, the temperature has just dropped by a few degrees. Buzzing icy sine waves, like a swarm of crystal locusts, are filling the air, Melbourne duo <b>Ov Pain</b> have arrived. Sitting behind a table of mixers, synths and DI boxes, Renee Barrance and Tim Player conjure a transformative mix of tightly controlled industrial soundscapes. Their music occasionally brings to mind mid-90s electronic acts like Lamb or Seefeel, particularly when Barrance stands to sing.</p><p>Tempos are laid back, the beats themselves are skittering and skeletal, more a texture than a rhythm. This leaves a lot of space for their layered synths and Barrance's rich voice and echo-drenched melodies to fill. The final song, a gorgeous Dead Can Dance-style epic, is too new for a name, Barrance says. There is a symbiotic intelligence at work here that makes what could be a formulaic experimentalism something intriguing; music that deserves really good speakers and ideally, a sensory deprivation chamber.</p><p>By the time <b>Parsnip</b> takes to the stage the room is almost full and the crowd seem to have become an extension of the Midsumma Festival that is taking place throughout the city. People arrive glad to be out of the heat and thrilled to be in each other’s company. It is a feeling the band reflects in short blasts of organ-driven garage pop. Parsnip's sound comprises Stella Rennax's chunky dry guitar chords, muddy melodic basslines from a barefoot Paris Richens and Rebecca Liston's churning organ, all offset by the sterling work of drummer Carolyn Hawkins. When their voices combine, which is most of the time, Parsnip goes from good to great.</p><p>Even more infectious than their tightly played pop is the sense of camaraderie and the confidence with which the band owns the stage. Perhaps it is the context of queer joy filling the streets of Melbourne that emphasises this aspect of the band but, to these ears at least, the link between the freedom that fuelled the sixties psychedelia that Parsnip's music evokes, and the celebratory feeling of the crowd feels especially alive tonight. </p><p>“We are <b>The Native Cats</b> from nipaluna,” announces bassist Julian Teakle. A surging looping bassline begins and is soon joined by a drum machine detonating a simple rhythm. This is the perfect platform for singer Chloe Alison Escott who launches into the band's 2023 single <i>My Risks is Art</i>. "My risks is art / The way I lay my chips is art / The way I sway my hips is art / My risks is art / Your risks is art". It's a thrilling opening to what turns out to be an astonishing show. Tonight's concert is to launch their album <i>The Way On is the Way Off</i> from which much of the set is taken.</p><p>Not only does that sense of joy flow over from the earlier sets, but tonight we are reminded that the band is now 16 years old. This information triggers an impromptu Q&A. "What was the lowest point?" asks one audience member. "John Howard was still Prime Minister when we started, right?" replies Teakle. "And the highest?" asks another. "Tonight, of course," he says. True to form, Escott takes a little while to compose her own answer which takes the form of an anecdote in which she inadvertently comes out as trans to Jon Spencer, for whom the band were opening. "Chloe," she says in an impersonation of Spencer's big American baritone. "Chloe! All right!" The crowd laughs. "I hadn't even told my parents," Escott adds.</p><p><i>Suplex</i>, <i>Sanremo</i>, <i>Small Town Cop Override</i> and <i>Tanned, Rested and Dead</i>, strong on record, are explosive live. The 13-year-old <i>Power In</i>, from their first album <i>Process Praise</i>, is a revelation. Escott moves between a Nintendo which she reconfigured to play 8-bit melodies, a melodica and drum machine and the microphone. It is here where her most striking talents shine. Escott's lyrics have always been extraordinary, but tonight, with her voice never better, she makes a case for being one of the country's greatest.</p><p>It's not only the words themselves but the way Teakle's basslines and the looping drum machine give them the propulsion inherent in their creation while staying out of the way of her frequencies. This is poetic music, but each song begins with a rhythm and much of the crowd spends the night dancing. "I slammed my hand into the city / I slammed my hand into the side of my home town / I hit my head on the doorframe of hell / I banged my shin on the straa-ange situation I'm in," Escott sings on <i>Bass Clef</i>. By force of personality alone, The Native Cats sound like no other band on the planet.</p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-34166322025317635392023-12-13T05:30:00.000-08:002024-02-11T23:26:13.572-08:00Live Review: Alvvays, Hatchie<h3 style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwfPkG4sYIF_LQu9nR6OmmcbubH1e4tvM_pQawl5n80ocLM_NChgOzsS6G2pMwEa-f-IBfB_cN7ycOD3RdkhB5tk9JgcGBnpd_Jgv1YUiOqwfFfb-hOc8ZBDeGCwx1Gd_KPSGXAGXq5i0y0k05HzfZ6XN53zgx2cd1ziEiTS6YYOXkChoF0SruistuyurL/s2000/Molly-Rankin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwfPkG4sYIF_LQu9nR6OmmcbubH1e4tvM_pQawl5n80ocLM_NChgOzsS6G2pMwEa-f-IBfB_cN7ycOD3RdkhB5tk9JgcGBnpd_Jgv1YUiOqwfFfb-hOc8ZBDeGCwx1Gd_KPSGXAGXq5i0y0k05HzfZ6XN53zgx2cd1ziEiTS6YYOXkChoF0SruistuyurL/w400-h300/Molly-Rankin.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Forum Theatre</h3><p>Hours before tonight’s concert, <b>Alvvays</b> posted to their Instagram account: “thrilled for melbourne doubleheader: tonite @forummelbourne weds: @northcotetheatre” underneath a photo of the band’s very tired looking singer Molly Rankin, slouched in a chair wearing a loose-fitting football jersey.</p><p>The band’s Canadian dry humour is as much a hallmark as their surging guitars, Rankin’s seraphic melodies and ability to pack an album’s worth of ideas into 150 seconds. With songs this good, why chase clicks?</p><p>Never the most kinetic of bands, Alvvays bring this wry detachment to their live shows too, along with a fastidious attention to detail. “I am still very hard on myself and think that there's constantly room to get better,” Rankin told <i>The Music</i>. But now, with their most acclaimed, energetic album, <i>Blue Rev</i>, behind them, one that was largely recorded live, can they reciprocate the energy the audience is bringing to them? Would we even want that? </p><p>Before the band can answer those questions, <b>Hatchie</b> graces the stage of a sold-out Forum Theatre. To a largely static crowd, the Queenslander plays a short shoegaze-heavy set. Eschewing her band and switching from bass guitar to electric six-string, Hatchie triggers her backing track, lets her Fender Jaguar shiver out a chord and opens with the title track from her debut EP, <i>Sugar & Spice</i>. Despite the song being dream pop perfection, she rebuilds the track and adds a twang to the vocal melody, as if she is trying out something new.</p><p>Also from her EP, the tracks <i>Try</i> and later <i>Sure</i> serve to remind just what a wonderful songwriter Hatchie can be. Songs are simple and catchy with plenty of room for production and interpretation, surely a sign of someone with real talent.</p><p>Newer songs <i>Obsessed</i>, as featured in the television series <i>Heartstopper</i>, and <i>Keepsake</i> have a simplicity and generosity to them. As the set progresses her voice gets richer and more dynamic, playing with the melodies to powerful effect. It’s hard not to be won over and, despite muted applause during her show, Hatchie is sent off with loud cheers and a rapturous farewell.</p><p><br /></p><p>Pastel pink banners fall on either side of the stage. Lights dim, a screen glows and Alvvays arrive to the strains of Enya’s <i>The River Sings</i>. The packed room explodes with joy. Rankin, wearing the same football jersey we saw on Instagram, smiles, waves, dons her guitar and leaps with energy as the band burst into <i>Pharmacist</i>, the opening track from <i>Blue Rev</i>.</p><p>Instantly, there is an energy coursing through the band that was absent in their previous Australian tours and a real sense of elation. There is also a clear sense of distinct personalities. Guitarist Alec O'Hanley prowls his corner of the stage, focusing on his deft arpeggios and fluid lead lines. Abbey Blackwell is so composed and controlled every other bassist seems hectically overwrought in comparison. Sheridan Riley beats the drums with an infectious glee while poised keyboardist Kerri MacLellan seems as likely to shush you quiet then let you borrow a book as she is to hold a song together with a precisely deployed fizzing melody. The jangle pop band’s secret weapon, MacLellan’s chords anchor and propel the songs in a way that hearing them live makes much more apparent. </p><p>Rankin, O’Hanley and MacLellan each have a small, mounted camera in front of them and throughout the show, images of the members are overlaid with edited videos, a simple but effective device. <i>After The Earthquake</i>, <i>In Undertow</i> and <i>Many Mirrors</i> follow in thrilling succession.</p><p>One of the most notable elements of the concert, besides the energy the band is bringing, is the brightness and immediacy of the songs from <i>Blue Rev</i>. Shawn Everett’s production has proven divisive among fans, many of whom shy away from the heavy compression and dense layering of tracks and instrumentation. Tonight, these songs explode with life with Rankin’s soaring and bell-clear voice their centrifugal force.</p><p><i>Belinda Says</i> is a mid-set euphoric high point, while <i>Tile By Tile</i> gets a thrilling rearrangement that sees O’Hanley swing away from the song’s meticulous guitar parts for a distorted solo. From the Smiths-y rush of <i>Pressed</i> to the crunching synths of MacLellan’s extended introduction to <i>Dreams Tonite</i>, and the set-closing medley of <i>Archie, Marry Me</i> and <i>Pomeranian Spinster</i>, Alvvays surge from high to high.</p><p>Such is the musicianship, the thoughtful songwriting and imaginative arrangements, it’s hard to think of a band anywhere in the world doing this better. By the time Alvvays return for an encore of <i>Velveteen</i>, <i>Next Of Kin</i> and a barnstorming take on their album-closing <i>Lottery Noises</i>, it’s unlikely 2023 will offer up a better show.</p><p>It turns out that yes, we do want this empowered and engaged version of Alvvays. As she waves goodbye, sending us out into a torrential thunderstorm, Rankin’s curtain of platinum blonde hair swings, O’Hanley grins and we cheer even louder. It’s a safe bet many will be buying tickets for tomorrow’s show, ready to do this all over again.</p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-83662592787082089202023-10-13T06:30:00.000-07:002024-02-11T23:19:57.396-08:00Live Review: Fazerdaze, Sweet Whirl, Garage Sale<h3 style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGlup2j0vC8uCazTcI5ZHIqyp4-8oyqRrZyhy0wpmQJROCsJOV30EacIw5-ys76wbkV_1Qlz6nRhQ5Z1XFnIC9jcARQjZFS8P2SJLuBA1PO7BpjKybjlk1EajaAOPN0fVvV2BjPCRS-HRDMBwyhFBU5PByeLaqP97sIX2_qdYYC1cdUSBTBumFbepkToHA/s2000/Fazerdaze-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1381" data-original-width="2000" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGlup2j0vC8uCazTcI5ZHIqyp4-8oyqRrZyhy0wpmQJROCsJOV30EacIw5-ys76wbkV_1Qlz6nRhQ5Z1XFnIC9jcARQjZFS8P2SJLuBA1PO7BpjKybjlk1EajaAOPN0fVvV2BjPCRS-HRDMBwyhFBU5PByeLaqP97sIX2_qdYYC1cdUSBTBumFbepkToHA/w400-h276/Fazerdaze-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>The Gasometer</h3><p>“I took a while off there,” says <b>Fazerdaze</b> to a rapt and sold-out crowd filling the room, stairway and balcony around the stage. “I really wasn’t sure after Covid whether I wanted to do music anymore. But you’re all here, and it’s such a nice surprise. Thank you.”</p><p>Amelia Rahayu Murray, aka Fazerdaze, takes a breath and returns to her set and another joyous blast of shoegaze guitars, warm and deftly moving synth pads, gently propulsive rhythms and irresistible pop hooks.</p><p>Murray has a way with songwriting that makes a virtue of their bedroom origins and are strong enough to take on a new life in a show like tonight’s and at a festival like Yours and Owls, where she plays several days later. Her decision to fly her band over from Auckland is a brilliant one. Each member –Dave Rowlands on guitar, keyboard player Carla Camilleri, bassist Kathleen Tomacruz and drummer Ollie O’Loughlin – has such a strong personality and clearly loves living inside her songs for an hour. Their sense of camaraderie adds another layer to songs that are often solitary explorations of relationships, friends and Murray’s place in the world.</p><p>Tonight, the prominent use of a backing track proves to be both a virtue and a straitjacket, enriching the songs but also neutering any spontaneity that, in the hands of a lesser songwriter, could mean they’re dead on arrival. Murray’s decision to take her most notable song from recent months, <i>Flood Into</i>, and strip its production flourishes to play it with only her guitar proves that its strengths lie in its structure and lyrics.</p><p>New single <i>Bigger</i> is another highlight, as is the bass-driven <i>Thick Of The Honey</i> and the instantly sync-able fuzz pop thrills of <i>Come Apart</i>. The audience erupts for her catchiest song, <i>Lucky Girl</i>, with its instantly recognisable guitar hook. It’s a track that sounds like it was written by a much younger singer-songwriter, and it’s a testament to her production and songwriting skills that songs she wrote years ago still fit into the set of someone who clearly has new sources of inspiration. When she announces that we’re the first audience to hear a brand-new song, and that song is one of the best of the evening, it is proof that some real magic is happening here. </p><p>All this would make for one of the year’s best shows, but we also got sets from local grunge pop band on the rise, <b>Garage Sale</b> – who are surely only one release away from consistent radio play and Instagrammed festival sets – and bassist extraordinaire, <b>Sweet Whirl</b>. Garage Sale are almost bashful between songs, making a virtue out of what seems to be a very genuine humility. When they play, however, they are so confident and tight that anyone following closely could get whiplash. Their blend of 90s Australian alternative rock evoking bands like Frenzal Rhomb, Gerling and Ammonia with the undeniably evocative musical hook of stopping a song for a few seconds to let singer Dan Sullivan bend a heavily compressed and distorted note on his guitar before seamlessly rejoining him, shows that these are students on their way to becoming masters.</p><p><i>Blank Again</i>, a hint of their forthcoming album, is another fantastic song, and when they close with their set with the modern classic <i>Shoes On</i>, there is the sense that many new fans have been won. Slotting in between Garage Sale and New Zealand’s greatest shoegaze export is Esther Edquist, aka Sweet Whirl.</p><p>Requiring only a bass guitar and a deep, rich, jazzy voice to get her songs across, Edquist is a true revelation. Songs like <i>Patterns Of Nature</i>, <i>Sweetness</i> and <i>Your Love On Ice</i> are spellbinding in their space and simplicity. Both those qualities are emphasised by having her play mid-bill, allowing for the shift in dynamics to be even more powerful. With so many examples of innovative songwriting on show tonight and an extremely respectful and appreciative audience, there is every reason to think that this summer is going to be a very good one for people who like their music with catchy choruses and melodies.</p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-35398758745340879162023-08-21T07:30:00.000-07:002024-02-11T23:14:38.238-08:00Live Review: Body Type, Gut Health, Sweetie<h3 style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMeMtb3WWCSyftqDB81jYifzcU2knFNa20MnvV_XdZcm__Wuii7RshZ-y_7IIQlSA1T3BJuzNSXuvtIWNdxxUAXrg8HyTGkHcLCcuoEgMuW71sIfPAoWzaK2ip0DuIPMfYwAdUBjdEpuByby2i9ePKlVBHNQ2lVmBhxzVkT0nh4MsIWBLhFlP9AitZ9Xn9/s1800/Body-Type-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1391" data-original-width="1800" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMeMtb3WWCSyftqDB81jYifzcU2knFNa20MnvV_XdZcm__Wuii7RshZ-y_7IIQlSA1T3BJuzNSXuvtIWNdxxUAXrg8HyTGkHcLCcuoEgMuW71sIfPAoWzaK2ip0DuIPMfYwAdUBjdEpuByby2i9ePKlVBHNQ2lVmBhxzVkT0nh4MsIWBLhFlP9AitZ9Xn9/w400-h309/Body-Type-4.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Corner Hotel</h3><p>Before a note of music was played, the Matildas’ loss to Sweden had yanked what was supposed to be an exciting night of bracing femme-centric rock and roll back to a subdued torpor.</p><p>The streets outside the Corner Hotel were full of yellow-and-green swathed football fans in communal commiseration, pooling the game’s residual tension. The first of tonight’s bands, <b>Sweetie</b>, had their work cut out for them, but, much like their Jane Campion namesake, the Eora four-piece took about 0.5 seconds to reset the energy of the room from “a bunch of blokes in anoraks quietly chatting about music and football” to “feminist rock and roll party!”. This is a band that feels very much about finding power in a collective and using it for good, in this case, garage rock.</p><p>Lead singer Lily Keenan gives a big smile and the occasional “Go the Tillys!” between songs about destroying cities (<i>Godzilla</i>), overcoming adversity (<i>Punch the Shark</i>) and a barnstorming cover of the Beastie Boys’ <i>Looking Down the Barrel of a Gun</i>. Her raspy, bluesy conversational way of singing is the band’s not-so-secret weapon. On songs like their stellar single <i>Liminal Bliss</i>, Keenan uses it to elevate straightforward big-riff rock and roll to something more timeless.</p><p>By the time they closed their set, the band commanded a near-capacity room. With this being the last show for a while for bassist Janae Beer, the band celebrated with a cuddle pile, which instantly made every other gig I’ve ever seen seem slightly lacking in comparison.</p><p>It’s not often you hear subpar sound at a gig like this, but few lyrics from any band tonight were comprehensible, and multiple punters noted the odd mix that made the lead guitar feedback piercing, the bass woolly and subdued and the rhythm guitar almost absent. Naarm’s own <b>Gut Health</b>, however, are such a curious-sounding band with so many tiny moments of silence in their songs that they almost mixed themselves.</p><p>Bursting out of the gate with Eloise Murphy-Hill and Dom Willmott’s dual staccato guitars, Adam Markmann’s driving circuitous bass riffs, Angus Fletcher’s razor-sharp drumming and enormous post-punk energy, it’s easy to see why they were must-gets for this year’s Meredith Music Festival. </p><p>Highlights from a blinding set include <i>Memory Foam</i>, singles <i>Inner Norm</i> and <i>The Recipe</i> and the soaring, closing track <i>Stiletto</i>. A big part of the thrill of a Gut Health show is seeing lead singer Athina Uh Oh in action, a front person freed from an instrument and commanding the space – sometimes crawling over the barrier – to connect us to songs that feel like the city’s nervous system tuned, tightened and flung on a stage.</p><p>Arriving to the song that accompanied Willy Wonka introducing his guests to his chocolate factory, <b>Body Type</b> gets a rapturous reception and gives back as much love as they receive. The band dive into <i>Holding On</i>, the first song from the album they’re here to celebrate. That album, <i>Expired Candy</i>, is already set to be a lock on many end-of-year lists, and over the next hour, the band encapsulates why it should be number one.</p><p>Freshly conditioned hair is thrown around with abandon as song after song of inspired pop-punk is propelled into the crowd. Cecil Coleman’s unflaggingly energetic beats, Annabel Blackman’s faultless lead work, Sophie McComish’s charisma-oozing vocals and fiery guitar and Georgia Wilkinson-Derums melodic bass all combine to be something bigger than its parts.</p><p><i>Weekend</i> follows and, alongside older songs like <i>The Brood</i> and <i>Sex & Rage</i>, tracks from <i>Expired Candy</i> sound like a band on an unstoppable trajectory. Where there was roiling energy and reactionary cries, an assertion of themselves in a masculine world, newer songs sound more controlled and dynamic; like Body Type, have claimed that space and are now the ones inspiring reactions. </p><p>Songs like <i>Summer Forever</i>, <i>Anti-Romance</i>, <i>Expired Candy</i> and <i>Tread Overhead</i> all show a band that operates as a unit, with no member taking precedence. Blackman’s flowing lead guitar lines and poise are a thrilling counterpart to McComish’s unbridled joy and Wilkinson-Derums’ frequent pacing of the stage; her push to connect with the other members keeps a sense of dynamism going that matches the songs perfectly.</p><p>These are not songs to be played – or listened to – standing still. Far from this constant sense of motion being exhausting, there is an invigoration and inspiration inherent in the songs and the band, so by the time they hit their set closer, the titanic <i>Miss the World</i>, there is a sense that something is just beginning. Fifty bucks says it’s not just the start of the greatest – and properly-funded – era of the Matildas.</p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-83947143446514057192023-07-23T07:30:00.000-07:002024-02-11T23:07:48.116-08:00Live Review: Slowdive, Flyying Colours<h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUUpGJb0jpVY4dckv9N4GpEA2hULU0WKjVWjIgrTvX7NxIDz436D6EOq2ARaqOtpW3Xi0JWfdnGmc-8Jtc4rOJ23FsBNPYtUYOgXXxOU48wBvegZ_w8lf56c54-ijEU_uNDX2CtkHBkH6wpPEll9FZ_pBEcc9uMoxpEvui2gQQSmVqsew4_OBtYZrGT4i/s2000/Slowdive-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="2000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUUpGJb0jpVY4dckv9N4GpEA2hULU0WKjVWjIgrTvX7NxIDz436D6EOq2ARaqOtpW3Xi0JWfdnGmc-8Jtc4rOJ23FsBNPYtUYOgXXxOU48wBvegZ_w8lf56c54-ijEU_uNDX2CtkHBkH6wpPEll9FZ_pBEcc9uMoxpEvui2gQQSmVqsew4_OBtYZrGT4i/w400-h320/Slowdive-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Forum Theatre</span></h3><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">Long before we hear the colossal opening chords of support act <b>Flyying Colours</b>, the Forum Theatre is packed. Unlike tours of other shoegaze and nineties icons, what is immediately noticeable is that this is a much younger and more diverse crowd. One quality a lot of them share is a vocal appreciation of the three-piece on stage. Minus their bassist, Flyying Colours use backing tracks to augment what is already a huge sound.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Guitars that never get out of landscape mode, colossal drums and warm propulsive bass with vocals that peak out of the tsunami of sound is a combination familiar to everyone here. The ingenuity Flyying Colours bring is what makes them one of the country’s best bands right now, and with an album as strong as 2023’s <i>You Never Know</i>, it would be hard for them to build a weak set. Standouts of this one include <i>I Live in a Small Town</i>, which moves with an almost malevolent intent, <i></i></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><i><br />Goodbye to Music</i> sounds even more poignant under the venue’s star-speckled ultramarine roof and the superlative <i>Bright Lights</i> and <i>Modern Dreams</i> get the biggest reactions tonight. <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">It’s a short, spectacular set from exactly the right opening act. Their show on August 26 at the Night Cat feels almost mandatory.</span><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Walking out to the ethereal strains of Brian Eno’s <i>Deep Blue Day</i>, the five-piece assemble themselves across the stage. Heads turn to singer and chief songwriter Neil Halstead, curling locks mushrooming from beneath a baseball cap, and the band launch into one of the highlights of their 2017 self-titled album, <i>Slomo</i>. Behind them, a screen springs to life, and intuitively programmed moving patterns of light and shape match the energy of the music. Simon Scott’s precise, warmly-mixed drumming, Nick Chaplin’s bright and moody bass, Rachel Goswell’s stunning voice and textured keyboards and the too-much-conditioner feel of Halstead and Christian Savill’s guitars. Slowdive has already won us over. From here on, it’s victory lap after victory lap.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">“Thank you. It’s very nice to finally be here,” says Goswell referring to April’s Daydream Festival, which they were forced to cancel at short notice. Any disappointment has been long banished; it’s hard to imagine these songs sounding better on a grey evening between Tropical Fuck Storm and Modest Mouse. We get both tracks from the band’s first release, a self-titled EP, <i>Slowdive</i> and its hypnotically euphoric B-side <i>Avalyn</i>, the song that famously brought cynical English music journalists to tears when they played it as teenagers.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Goswell wears a gossamer-thin cape and moves like someone having a really good time in a coven, her voice growing in grace and power as the set progresses. Scott prowls the stage with his low-slung bass, bringing a noirish kineticism to the show. <i>Catch The Breeze</i>, <i>Star Roving</i>, <i>Crazy For You</i>, and <i>Souvlaki Space Station</i> are mid-set highlights and continue that feeling of swimming with the current of a river, a sensation echoed by the videos behind the band.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">“We love you, Rachel!” Comes the common refrain from various crowd members throughout the show. “Thank you,” she replies politely as the ping-ponging chords from <i>Sugar For The Pill</i> fade away. “Hopefully, we will be back again soon. It really is so wonderful to be here.” Curiously, the weakness of their new single, <i>Kisses</i>, serves to make the songs around it, the mesmeric (and still unreleased) <i>Sleep</i> and the similarly titanic <i>Golden Hair</i>, even more majestic.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">After long and passionate calls from the crowd, Slowdive return to the stage to play faultless versions of <i>Dagger</i> and <i>40 Days</i> before leaving for one last time, letting their guitars feedback and echo together in sublime harmonies.</span></p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-13765499187050048282023-04-25T07:30:00.000-07:002024-02-11T22:34:55.837-08:00Live Review: The World Is A Vampire Festival<h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp95HheSneJ15md2a_vYOr6gaziuIhhi1jV4sr1_UxJGVKpqMHFho87CujEqEfDPB_MEz974Ys3i86Ece5Jo26TjIMM5Gq1WpvtrZrL8aWt2TnVsZ5VgIpX2VGFGyKlQDNczKTxNZOjgyhcOJF_sJ945-66g2JSLVwBttObKJWe-PP4B7VzstquoCS2wyF/s1280/The-Smashing-Pumpkins%20copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photo: Scott Legato/Getty Images" border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="1280" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp95HheSneJ15md2a_vYOr6gaziuIhhi1jV4sr1_UxJGVKpqMHFho87CujEqEfDPB_MEz974Ys3i86Ece5Jo26TjIMM5Gq1WpvtrZrL8aWt2TnVsZ5VgIpX2VGFGyKlQDNczKTxNZOjgyhcOJF_sJ945-66g2JSLVwBttObKJWe-PP4B7VzstquoCS2wyF/w400-h225/The-Smashing-Pumpkins%20copy.jpg" title="Photo: Scott Legato/Getty Images" width="400" /></a></div>Kryal Castle</span></h3><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">“<i>The gesture of the vanquished wrestler signifying to the world a defeat which, far from disgusting, he emphasises and holds like a pause in music, corresponds to the mask of antiquity meant to signify the tragic mode of the spectacle. In wrestling, as on the stage in antiquity, one is not ashamed of one's suffering, one knows how to cry, one has a liking for tears.</i>” - Roland Barthes</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">When the French intellectual penned these thoughts, he had in mind the halls and courtyards of a post-World War II Paris. But, had he too caught the shuttle bus from Dunnstown Football Netball Club Car Park to the fake medievalry of Kryal Castle, he would have gazed upon National Wrestling Alliance (NWA) bouts taking place in the harsh sunshine and, maybe with a can of Carlton Dry in hand, recognised the roles of hero and bastard and appreciated the thematically appropriate commentary.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">'(Wrestling) is something I really love,” <b>The Smashing Pumpkins</b>’ Billy Corgan told <i>Noise11</i>. “And part of bringing it back is proving to the wrestling culture that the NWA can go to places only I can take it.” In 2017, Corgan bought the 74-year-old wrestling league, and it too has become a vessel for his famed me-versus-the-world approach to life. This is why the interstitial entertainment for today’s leg of the band’s The World is a Vampire tour comes in the form of Junior Heavyweight world champion Kerry Morton mocking the crowd and local heroes Adam Brookes and Golden Boy almost bringing him down. Over the course of the afternoon, the crowd went from bemused onlookers to enthusiastic participants. “This is the fucken best, hey?” says one guy, standing on a concrete block, clapping in approval as wrestler Slex performs his trademark “Slexicution”.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;">“I’ve never seen someone so evenly balanced between cockiness and cowardice”...”Ohh, you can really see the pain in the face.”...“I don’t know what he’s complaining about, probably everything.”</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Thus far, the crowd, mostly decked out in black, band t-shirts, sunglasses and the odd puffer jacket, have been fairly sedate. “How are ya?” yells <b>Amyl and the Sniffers</b>’ Amy Taylor. The crowd howls back. Even the boozy guys poking fun at the goths trying to escape the sunshine, and the goths trying to escape the sunshine, are struck dumb by the opening chords of the band’s first track, <i>Don’t Fence Me In</i>. For a band known for playing pub rock, they are a clinical riff machine. Every beat, bass note and moment of Dec Martens’ mesmeric guitar soloing feels right on target. <i>Security</i>, <i>Knifey</i> (“dedicated to ladies and non-binary mates”), and the closing <i>Hertz</i> are even more powerful than on record. Over this precision, Taylor’s vocals sound even more powerful, and every inflection laser-focused for maximum impact. As she stalks the stage wearing a skirt that looks like it’s made of duct tape, she moves and sings with a sense of confidence that – on a day marked by nostalgia – feels viscerally raw. That they are playing through a sunset that is almost impossibly blood red gives the scene extra potency.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><h3 style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><br /></h3><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Perhaps due to the sudden drop in temperature, scheduled on-stage wrestling doesn’t eventuate, and instead, <b>Jane’s Addiction</b> begin their set 20 minutes early, sending a rush of punters to the stage. The band explode to life with the fury of <i>Trip Away</i> and rarely slow down for the next 45 minutes. In his tailored suit, pointed boots, silver hair, and illuminated by white lights shining into his grinning face, singer Perry Farrell looks like he’s auditioning to play the Joker in the next inevitable Batman adaptation. <i>Been Caught Stealing</i> follows, and the whole crowd comes on board with a mighty “It’s MINE”. As with every well-known song for the rest of the evening, the crowd becomes a forest of phones, some acting as periscopes. The ethereal angst of <i>Pigs in Zen</i>, the dub dirge of <i>Nothing’s Shocking</i>, complete with pole dancers moving in eerie symmetry, Farrell’s visions of Los Angeles in the early 1990s are still hypnotically powerful. “Fellas,” Farrell tells the audience. “Don’t ever stop fucking. Take it from me. You use it, or you lose it.” As the cloud above the crowd thickens – a combination of dry ice, frozen breath, pot smoke and vape mist – Eric Avery ignites another circuitous bassline, Josh Klinghoffer spins clouds of chords and spidery guitar runs and the band ease into the urbane psychedelia of <i>Kettle Whistle</i>. <i>Jane Says</i> has everyone singing, and Farrell reserves his widest smile for this moment. After criticising the “silly fucking castle” (he is not the only person disappointed to find that it is more tribute to an idea rather than an authentic fortification) – “I was expecting crocodiles in a moat” – he introduces <i>Three Days</i>, a cataclysmic ten-minute epic that leaves the audience wanting more, but, as Farrell says, “that’s it! That was a sunset that we’ll never forget. One we got to share with you all.”</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">As the temperature falls even lower, the crowd tightens, huddling toward the warmth of the red lights that welcome Billy Corgan to the stage. With a forehead tattoo, extensive makeup around his eyes and dressed in a long black robe, the man who is, for most intents and purposes, The Smashing Pumpkins looks like the sort of person who should be allowed nowhere near a vulnerable teenager and perhaps the only person able to articulate the emotional complexities of one. Arriving to the aural violence of <i>Empires</i>, Corgan almost immediately undoes the effect of his appearance by smiling, telling us how grateful he is that we’re here, and gleefully taking us straight to the sugar hit of <i>Bullet With Butterfly Wings</i>. Phones aloft and groups of friends singing in joyous dissonance, this is what we came for. <i>Today</i> follows, and the band sounds, if possible, even louder. Corgan’s voice sounds powerful, even as he bends away from the microphone to leave the climactic notes to backing vocalist Katie Cole and a dense swarm of vocal effects. Beloved guitarist James Iha attempts some banter but is almost overwhelmed by the volume of affection the crowd has for him. After a deconstruction of Talking Heads’ <i>Once in a Lifetime</i>, <i>Solara</i>, <i>Eye</i> and <i>Ava Adore</i>, the stage falls dark, and Iha and Corgan return with acoustic guitars. Iha leads the duo through half of The Church’s <i>Under the Milky Way</i> before they play a stripped-back version of <i>Tonight, Tonight</i>. Corgan is slightly thrown by the lack of a deafening response to one of his finest songs. “I think,” he says to Iha, “that the drug of choice tonight has not been alcohol. They’re enjoying the show, they’re just not appreciating it.”</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">The night’s quietest and most delicate moment is followed by its loudest. The album <i>Siamese Dream</i> spawned one of the most ardently devoted fandoms of the 1990s, and it all began with the clarion call of <i>Cherub Rock</i>. A song that also introduced many to the drumming of Jimmy Chamberlain, a man whose skills transcended the polarising reactions to Corgan. After a brief story from Corgan about taking his son to an outpost of the American theme restaurant Medieval Times, a reference lost on many of us, the band blast through <i>Zero</i> and arrive at an oddly off-kilter version of <i>1979</i> that never quite comes together, unlike the closing behemoth, <i>Silverfuck</i>. Before then, there was a perfect moment that deserves highlighting.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">There was one moment when Billy Corgan’s painted face broke into a smile as he sang, “No place can hold us / But in this scene, I'm December / And you’re June's wretch / And my idyls lay gasping as if death” while two NWA performers fought next to him. Around him, a truly spectacular light show exploded, putting the rest of the band in darkness. This was a perfect example of the contradictions that seem, and are, utterly ludicrous but could only come from a man who takes his work very seriously. The world, for a little while at least, seemed a lot less vampiric.</span></p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-73153370179552126972023-04-02T07:30:00.000-07:002024-02-11T22:23:15.606-08:00Live Review: Flyying Colours, Blue Vedder, Emotion Picture<h3 style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBEowl4IX2z_jEF2dD9s2fAIXFOznZcNYVzJcDAkkdMPi-rt7JAiUdN3QXniw7xkO44_PBDk4WIJ5mTsnoZMi2C9f62SoEE1c2wQgIjtkOJ6d89x_SWbtm-FhqNBG3BJCwPZfUL82exephklp5R_537E3sRVQCuGE2N0QNsTpTZjJrxQK_WMYMu3fEcWXO/s1800/Flyying-Colours-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1800" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBEowl4IX2z_jEF2dD9s2fAIXFOznZcNYVzJcDAkkdMPi-rt7JAiUdN3QXniw7xkO44_PBDk4WIJ5mTsnoZMi2C9f62SoEE1c2wQgIjtkOJ6d89x_SWbtm-FhqNBG3BJCwPZfUL82exephklp5R_537E3sRVQCuGE2N0QNsTpTZjJrxQK_WMYMu3fEcWXO/w400-h300/Flyying-Colours-1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Bergy Bandroom</h3><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">Winter has set in. It’s a meteorological shift that fits beautifully with the music happening inside the Bergy Bandroom tonight. The tiny and beloved venue Bergy Seltzer has transformed the adjacent building into a 200-plus capacity room with a dynamite PA system and acoustics that have been thoughtfully rendered by Brodie J Brummer, the venue’s co-owner and lead-singer and guitarist for tonight’s headliner’s, <b>Flyying Colours</b>. Every square inch of the bandroom is called on to hold the crowd here to witness the band launch their album <i>You Never Know</i>. But before that sweat-athon can begin, we have two ambassadors from the early 1990s.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">“We’re in for a really good night,” says Grace Mitchell, lead singer, songwriter and guitarist of <b>Emotion Picture</b>. “This next song is called <i>Destroy</i>.” Mitchell slashes at her low-slung guitar as the band behind her pumps out chugging chords, plugging bass root notes, creating a kind of indie rock that would have fit perfectly in an afternoon slot at an early Lollapalooza.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">On their Bandcamp page, the four-piece use a word to describe their music that was rejected by its best-known exponents, grunge, but I’m reluctant to pigeonhole the band’s sound so quickly. They may take the simplest route to a song, but Mitchell’s commitment makes that simplicity seem like a smart move, forcing the attention back onto her voice and the personal intentions behind her songs, relationships, moments of self-realisation and her move from Los Angeles to Melbourne.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">In a similar vein, and with a name that picks up where Emotion Picture left off, <b>Blue Vedder</b> are all heavily compressed riffs, quiet vocals and a rhythm section that shifts serious slabs of air. Throwing in a Welcome to Country over some guitar loops before launching into another song that sounds like some bootleg recording of Nirvana and Slowdive jamming, their songs, riffs and vocals are huge.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Bassist Lachlan Birch, whose slippery basslines are an absolute asset to every song, marks his last show with the band with a sweet cover of Big Star’s <i>Thirteen</i>. It’s a fitting choice for a band that writes and plays with no sense of having heard any music after 1992, But, when the sounds are this good, and songs like <i>Avant Guard</i> and the closing <i>What Remains</i> hit as well as they do, it doesn’t matter. The audience love it, the band is committed and as singer Seth Hancock says halfway through his set, with a big smile on his face, “this is sick. This is so much fun.”</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">In the minutes before the headliners arrive on stage, the crowd tightens. “Cheers everyone,” says singer, guitarist and co-owner of the venue, Brodie J Brummer. Opening with the first song from the album he is here to launch, <i>Lost Then Found</i>, the band sound immense.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Immediately, and with a power that matches that of Brummer’s guitar, there is a sense of a band with personalities. Drummer Andy Lloyd-Russell is Animal-like in his flailing hair and ability to play most of the drums and cymbals at any one time. Bassist Melanie Barbaro is stoic, precise and focused, her fingers deftly making the complex sound simple. Guitarist, percussionist and co-vocalist Gemma O'Connor plays with the sort of warm, quiet authority of someone who has dealt with every gig-related eventuality and will be able to assume control at short notice. This combination gives Brummer a world for his carefully calibrated guitar sounds to reach their full power.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Songs such as <i>1987</i>, <i>Long Holiday</i> and <i>Goodbye To Music</i> soar, highlighting the tenderness with which they are delivered as well as the volume and power. The buoyant pop of <i>I Live In A Small Town</i> explodes with a brightness that, as good as the recorded version is, reminds you that, unlike a lot of shoegaze created in studios, these songs were written and should be felt live.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">The spirit of My Bloody Valentine has haunted in every band tonight, but only Flyying Colours take those sounds and fashion something new. As the band make a controlled descent via <i>Hit The Road</i>, <i>Big Mess</i> and <i>Not Today</i> toward the closing deconstruction epic <i>OH</i>. Few bands deliver their defining release ten years into their existence, but tonight, seeing most of <i>You Never Know</i> played, and judging by the clamour around the merch desk as the hotbox of a band room spills out onto Sydney Road, it’s hard to imagine a better local release will arrive this year.</span></p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-69879937332242528872023-03-19T06:30:00.000-07:002024-02-11T22:17:43.322-08:00Live Review: Beach Bunny, Voiid<h3 style="text-align: left;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5tuN0y4IGVST_eQACTZ2uaJLatcFMQ0YIDtRfSIW-Tg0jmMFj_yu_2ctFhvS_Ya4oRZ2pRgVByOW6tWw5z6RD0-In34PcBEXvMtJXPJJL0V5xZJdtg80d3oARWi387eG1Z28uim7vZ1SrW1C8r-WIxcqgRjZyVXRIxxhan3X6It2XrJhciTF0Ilt5AlEI/s2667/Beach-Bunny-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2667" data-original-width="2000" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5tuN0y4IGVST_eQACTZ2uaJLatcFMQ0YIDtRfSIW-Tg0jmMFj_yu_2ctFhvS_Ya4oRZ2pRgVByOW6tWw5z6RD0-In34PcBEXvMtJXPJJL0V5xZJdtg80d3oARWi387eG1Z28uim7vZ1SrW1C8r-WIxcqgRjZyVXRIxxhan3X6It2XrJhciTF0Ilt5AlEI/w300-h400/Beach-Bunny-2.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>Croxton Bandroom</b></h3><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">Before the doors opened tonight at 8pm, a queue threaded down High Street comprising extremely stylish-looking people. Inside, the room fills quickly and by the time <b>Voiid</b> arrive on stage, the room is two-thirds full, and most of us are clustered up by the barrier. Bursting into their set with <i>Not for You</i>, the way the Brisbane four-piece so expertly channel bands from the 1990s, it’s kind of miraculous. Your mileage may vary, but this reviewer heard Hole, Superchunk, Sonic Youth and Veruca Salt and they are never bad things to be reminded of. Anyone who was there in the 1990s watching an extremely honed band that comprise a drummer, bassist, guitarist and a singer, who know how to deploy distortion pedals will barely be able to stop from laughing with joy. The intent behind these songs, at least some of which address social inequality, anxiety and consent, is so refreshingly free of irony that it takes a while to realise that something this fun can also be extremely sincere.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Half way into their set, singer Anji Greenwood takes a moment to create “a respectful pit formation” in the crowd in front of her. “Anyone here on Lexapro?” She asks the crowd to raucous cheers. “Don’t forget to take it.” She says before guitarist Kate McGuire leads the bands into their song of the same name. Later, Greenwood introduces <i>Sour </i>by saying, “This is a song about consent because shit happens too often at shows. If anyone is feeling uncomfortable, tell a security guard or us, and we will kick the douchebag in the face. If anyone wants to talk about shit, message our band page, we’ll always listen.” Voiid sign off with <i>Hell</i>, another amalgam of brilliant riffs and incendiary drumming from their EP <i>Socioanomaly</i>, and one that you’ll likely hear blasting from a festival stage before the year is out.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">“Hello,” says <b>Beach Bunny</b>’s lead singer, guitarist and songwriter, Lili Trifilio. “Thanks for coming. What’s up?” Though she apologises several times throughout her rapturously received show for being so tired, it’s not a state reflected back by the audience. Opening with <i>Weeds</i>, one of the highlights from last year’s album <i>Emotional Creature</i>, the band moves in lockstep between the song’s dynamic shifts. <i>Promises</i>, <i>Good Girls (Don’t Get Used)</i> and <i>Dream Boy</i> follows, song after song, bursting with energy and fluid melodies, structured like screenplays. At first, the combination feels irresistible, especially when the crowd is responding with enough kinetic energy to power a small city. “Thanks for moshing,” Trifilio says. “We’re going to keep this going.” She slashes at her turquoise Fender Stratocaster and leads the band into <i>Cuffing Season</i> and <i>Prom Queen</i>, her TikTok sensation that introduced much of the audience to her. As the outro hits, the audience explodes, hands in the air, voices in unison, “I wanna be OK, I wanna be OK.”</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">“You guys are so respectful it’s making me nervous,” says Trifilio with a smile. “So, I really need to see some dancing and moshing.” She asks us to sit down and then jump up for the beginning of <i>Oxygen</i>, which we, of course, obediently do. She shares slight embarrassment that her next song, <i>Six Weeks</i>, is now eight years old. “I did not think anyone in Australia would hear that shit!” Since then, from sharing her first demo to forming the band to touring her second album, it feels like there has been an odd lack of progression. Not that progression is necessary, of course, but even a winning formula can get formulaic. Every song involves every band member playing all the time. The songs have spaces, and the vocal melodies sound as though they drive the songs, but there is little sense of tension and release or even the use of a different guitar sound to set a song apart. Trifilio’s gift for writing hooks is inarguable but after a while, the high school pep talks and poetic diary entries set to buzzing riffs and drum fills begin to merge. Individual parts, such as the audience sing-along during <i>Sports</i>, the blast of set-closing <i>Painkiller</i> and the encore of <i>Cloud Nine</i>, are good enough to blast any doubts out of this reviewer. “This was a really fun show,” Trifilio says with a winning smile, “and I’m sure we’ll be back some time”. Given the joy etched on the faces of fans as they queue at the merch desk or breathe in the warm night air afterwards, that time can’t come too soon.</span></p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-32263782703594793772023-03-14T06:30:00.000-07:002024-02-11T22:09:24.263-08:00Live Review: Rod Stewart, Cyndi Lauper<h3 style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqLcum5O8LlbOjbXskdXwVp8IXxi2xsQ70pXUgzWRaCXNoxrQ2ttRwjFgZoKAiIzdVXfriQ73bV8sWcicG-Jw1zQsEchrwnoyLEa6KcqEVdvzjdjOjzxAMMDgme7-LznedtF4kJHPVJgoPR-jcvH8kjCdIM1TDq0IOWDxUQT2oAPJYKb0qQpxGyIdb2Cdk/s2000/IMG_5792.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqLcum5O8LlbOjbXskdXwVp8IXxi2xsQ70pXUgzWRaCXNoxrQ2ttRwjFgZoKAiIzdVXfriQ73bV8sWcicG-Jw1zQsEchrwnoyLEa6KcqEVdvzjdjOjzxAMMDgme7-LznedtF4kJHPVJgoPR-jcvH8kjCdIM1TDq0IOWDxUQT2oAPJYKb0qQpxGyIdb2Cdk/w400-h300/IMG_5792.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Rod Laver Arena</span></h3><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">More than any kind of genre or style, the most distinctive quality about 80s pop star <b>Cyndi Lauper</b> is her commitment. Her dynamic vocals, her distinctive look, and her infectious, welcoming confidence can bewitch a kid as quickly as it can pull a listener 40 years into the past.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Lauper arrives in a brash Vivienne Westwood-style suit, sporting a mauve mohawk. Bold colours echoed in the graffiti on the screens behind her, animated to match her unbridled kinetic energy. Opening her set with <i>Hole in My Heart</i>, Lauper’s performance could fuel a show by a punk band a quarter of her age. She writhes on the floor, climbs a speaker stack and inhabits a song about contemplating madness with her particular sense of commitment.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><i>She Bop</i> follows, and as its final chords fade, she turns to us, arm outstretched. “Hello, my darlings. This is the first tour I’ve done since 2019, and I came here first, so come on!” She urges us to show our appreciation. “Hey, one of the Goonies won the Oscar; how about that?” she says, her New York accent making her seem even more like the product of an animator. “See, no matter where you come from; you can win if you stay determined.” It’s not the last advice she dispenses tonight. When you’ve got songs as infectiously fun as <i>The Goonies (Are Good Enough for Me)</i> and as inarguably spectacular as <i>Time After Time</i> (“a song I first played to you on Molly Meldrum’s show,”), it’s hard not to feel as though its advice she has lived.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Her last major hit, 1989’s <i>I Drove All Night</i>, is delivered with a powerhouse vocal performance, but it’s <i>Money Changes Everything</i>, the opening track on her landmark album <i>She’s So Unusual</i>, is where it all comes together; The personality evident in her look, the power of her voice, and the punk defiance still powering her 40 years after the album’s release. It’s magnificent. <i>Girls Want to Have Fun</i> is introduced with Lauper lamenting the loss of civil rights in her home country. Her anthem is illustrated by photos of women at various protests holding up signs that add “-damental rights” to the song’s title in a sequence that is surprisingly powerful. After Lauper closes her set with an emotive <i>True Colours</i> and half an hour of house music that seemed to be the Spotify playlist '80s Hits', the lights are cut, and the arena is filled with the nasal whine of bagpipes.</p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Soon joined by the brittle clatter of a marching band, it’s Scotland the Brave. The stage lights flicker to life, and six women in tight white shirts and black sparkly shorts file on as the humid grind of Robert Palmer’s <i>Addicted to Love</i> begins, in what one can only assume is a self-diagnosis from the man who follows, <b>Rod Stewart</b>. Setting the tone and warming up his vocal cords, the great deception that takes place isn’t Sir Rod asserting his insatiable libido but the women around him. After establishing the illusion that they are unable to play their instruments, the ensuing songs, <i>You Wear it Well</i>, <i>Ooh La La</i> and <i>Some Guys Have All the Luck</i>, give the women the chance to show their considerable chops on violins, harp, piano, drums, tap dancing (while playing the violin) and vocals stylings that demonstrate a range Stewart made a virtue out of not having.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">“We’re going to have a fucking good time tonight,” he promises. “We’ve got 24 songs, nearly two hours...depending on your applause.” Stewart’s idea of a good time is covering songs from artists he loves. Sam Cooke (<i>Twisting the Night Away</i>), Curtis Mayfield (<i>People Get Ready</i>) and Muddy Waters (<i>Rolling and Tumbling</i>) all get a reverential introduction, video and an interpretation that makes full use of his backing band; seven guys all dressed in pink suit jackets and black slacks. Stewart leaves the stage several times during the show to change outfits, a point he later chastises music critics for complaining about.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">This reviewer is not complaining. When Stewart returns to the stage in a blousy zebra print shirt with artfully paint-spattered jeans to croon his way through <i>The First Cut is the Deepest</i>, it feels laughter and reverence are equally appropriate responses. Throughout the performance, there is a strong echo of Bill Nighy’s pop star character in the film <i>Love Actually</i>. Stewart, now in his seventh decade of touring, embraces the concept of geriatric sex appeal so fully it feels cheesy and transgressive at the same time. I’m not sure what it all adds up to, but it is joyously celebratory, and the crowd absolutely love it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;">The music that best suits his brand of sex appeal is driving rock and disco and even if a song doesn’t naturally fit into these styles, he pushes it. It’s a decision that sometimes leaves him cutting the end off words to allow a breath between lyrics or pulling the mic away to allow the other vocalists to carry the song. When he introduces <i>I’d Rather Go Blind</i> as a song he and Ron Wood nailed “in two takes”, the tempo slows, the band chill out, he takes the space he needs to be the blues belter he is, and he sounds eerily like he did when he recorded it 50 years ago. But of course, that’s not what we’re here for, and Stewart is well aware of it. <i>Young Turks</i> follow with its anthemic 80s chorus before he quickly disappears to don a blue shirt and yellow jacket for his “anti-war” song <i>Rhythm of My Heart</i>, which soundtracks images of the Ukrainian war and finishes on a picture of Vladimir Zelenskyy. Then, in a mood whiplash that only Monday’s Academy Awards could match with their transition from Cocaine Bear hassling Malala Yousafzai to a solemn memoriam for Chadwick Boseman, Stewart goes from lamenting the horrors of modern warfare to introducing a trio of women in leopard-print dresses singing <i>Hot Stuff</i>.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">From 'camp disco' we are suddenly in the show’s 'acoustic section'. Stewart and the band peel through <i>The Killing of Georgie Part 1</i>, <i>Have I Told You Lately</i>, <i>Tonight’s the Night</i> and his ode to Celtic FC, <i>You’re in My Heart</i>, during which Melbourne football coach Ange Postecoglou gets the big screen treatment. This all adds up to a very strange and singular show. Many songs get Celtic twists, drums and violins, and all get Stewart’s gravelly, hip-swivelling signature that just somehow works, though it’s hard to explain exactly why or imagine any modern equivalent.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;">After a final outfit change, Stewart returns in a black sparkly suit and proceeds to boot soccer balls into the crowd as an introduction to The Faces’ classic <i>Stay with Me</i>. That looming inevitability, <i>D’ya Think I’m Sexy?</i>, has all potential awkwardness extracted from it by Stewart’s decision to introduce it with a photo. “Here’s a picture of me in 1979, dressed in a red cape with my right tit hanging out,” he accurately summarises. “I liked to laugh then, and I still do.” After his disco classic gets an extended breakdown, he and the band leave the stage, returning minutes later for a version of <i>Sailing</i> that sees a forest of phone torches waving across the arena. As he throws up his arms and leaves the stage for a final time, there is the sense that, while Stewart might have inspired a lot of different feelings tonight, disappointment was never on the cards. <span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span></p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-56059719110465084022023-03-10T05:30:00.000-08:002024-02-11T22:09:43.952-08:00Live Review: Carly Rae Jepsen, Memphis LK<h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsYIIPbZryYcrcxDJn5UnHoQC_yEIg_8W08wCo2uNFWNsH0LGBwbVIrv2TBJcF9wHNYWsa8KyJmfMoFamvDnz0RXT_Okju8VwWfpK__gXxcBQOhBxNUa-9MbohhyphenhyphenVV9JRPtmF2Wtby7eXV3BixEDZ0lGatNtkLzBHfTaVq3JFjGD-z4y6oVz5KclM599tU/s990/carlyraejepsen-forummelbourne-130323-joshuabraybrook-7.990x660%20copy.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photo: Joshua Braybrook" border="0" data-original-height="660" data-original-width="990" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsYIIPbZryYcrcxDJn5UnHoQC_yEIg_8W08wCo2uNFWNsH0LGBwbVIrv2TBJcF9wHNYWsa8KyJmfMoFamvDnz0RXT_Okju8VwWfpK__gXxcBQOhBxNUa-9MbohhyphenhyphenVV9JRPtmF2Wtby7eXV3BixEDZ0lGatNtkLzBHfTaVq3JFjGD-z4y6oVz5KclM599tU/w400-h266/carlyraejepsen-forummelbourne-130323-joshuabraybrook-7.990x660%20copy.jpg" title="Photo: Joshua Braybrook" width="400" /></a></div>Forum Theatre</span></h3><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">Long before rising Melbourne dance act </span><b style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">Memphis LK</b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;"> arrives on stage, the Forum is crammed full of people with tight, sparkly clothes and wide smiles who seem to feed off their proximity to fans of pop music. I’m not sure if this is an indicator of queerness, but when I later describe tonight’s gig as featuring a lot of tall, gay men jumping up and down and smiling women in glittery clothes, other attendees nod in agreement.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">This overwhelming positive atmosphere is fed by Memphis LK who responds to the loud cheers greeting her arrival with a set of banging dance music that is more interested in creating little worlds of sound than sticking to regular BPMs. Memphis LK spins 90s drum and bass to frothy peaks over which she coos intimate rhymes and witty asides about relationships. The combination of quietly furious beats, effervescent synth chords and gently close mic’ed vocalising is extremely effective and it’s easy to see why after two EPs and a clutch of singles her profile is growing. Memphis’s sounds are so urban European that the curl of her Melbourne accent at the end of her lyrics sounds bigger than it is. Opening her set with the warm house beats and burbling synths of <i>Where Angels Go to Die</i>, Memphis bugs out behind the DJ setup, mic in hand, faders getting nudged and dials getting turned. <i>Tricky</i>, <i>Whip</i>, <i>Coffee</i> and the title track from her latest EP <i>Too Much Fun</i> follow, a set that tours the dance genres of the 90s in a set that is united by era rather than genre. At one point, she plays clarinet over a pounding Aphex Twin style beat and, as with her occasional forays into talking to the crowd, we love it. Memphis approaches, and plays, music with a genuine sense of discovery, keeping things fresh. It’s a great asset and one that it doesn’t sound like she is in any danger of losing.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">After a short set of 1970s pop hits play over the PA, the venue darkens and the venue explodes into cheering, screaming and applause. To the strains of <i>Surrender My Heart</i>, <b>Carly Rae Jepsen</b>’s band arrive, one by one: keyboardist Jared Manierka, drummer Nik Pesut, guitarist Tavish Crowe, bassist Abe Nouri and backing vocalists Sophi Bairley and Julia Ross. Finally, she arrives. Wearing an iridescent aquamarine dress and with her long flowing platinum hair, she resembles a mermaid. An Ariel who found her voice, and who brings out ours at volumes we didn’t realise we were capable of. For the rest of the opening song, the PA can’t stand a chance when up against our voluble love. Every word of <i>Surrender My Heart</i>, and most subsequent songs, is matched by a choir of fans screaming the lyrics back to the Canadian star.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">As if empowered by the love she is receiving, the band smile and Jepsen moves from one supercharged blast of pop perfection to the next. <i>Run Away with Me</i>, <i>Too Much</i>, <i>Julien</i>, <i>Talking to Yourself</i> and we’re already at <i>Call Me Maybe</i>. “I hope you can all help me sing this next one,” she says by way of introduction. The crowd explodes, arms waving in unison as if reinforcing just how timeless this song is. As if fully aware of how she has arrived at a 10 and taken us up to 11, Jepsen brings us back to earth for a while with <i>Bends</i>, a song she describes as being “very close to my heart”.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">After an instrumental interlude, Jepsen returns with a new outfit, one that allows her to move with greater freedom, and the slinky, shiny 70s disco of <i>So Nice</i>, the song that gave her tour its name. Staying on theme we get one of her biggest hits, <i>I Really Like You</i>, from her album of peerless pop, <i>E•MO•TION</i>. Brilliantly deployed by Jepsen and brought to life by her band as a slice of hard-hitting synth pop, it is one of the best examples in tonight’s set of how a song that may sound like immaculately produced bubble-gum pop is reinvented closer to something classic like Chic. Pesut’s drums are so cavernous and Manierka layers his synth sounds to such great effect that there is a real sense of the songs being played rather than pre-programmed. After asking the crowd whether we would prefer <i>Cry</i> or <i>Your Type</i> (we go with the latter), <i>Now That I’ve Found You</i> and <i>I Didn’t Come Here Just to Dance</i> are two more aural examples of too much sherbet. Jepsen rarely stays still, she uses up every square foot of the stage, setting off wave after wave of phone cameras from fans so in love with the moment they want to extend it. We jump in the air when the chorus of <i>When I Needed You</i> hits, we stay respectfully quiet when she lowers the temperature with the country-ish <i>Go Find Yourself or Whatever</i> and we scream in approval when she says she loves playing in Melbourne so much “we’re already planning our next trip back down here.”</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">“We’ve covered a lot of ground tonight,” she tells us, her words barely audible over the screaming. “We’ve sung about falling in love, being in love and being very far out of love, but we haven’t really talked about just having fun.” And so begins her encore of <i>Beach House</i> (“I've got a beach house in Malibu / And I'm probably gonna hurt your feelings”) and the final, undeniable bop, <i>Cut to the Feeling</i>, through which she conducts us using a large plastic sword she took from an especially enthusiastic fan. A final blast of glitter of a show that was essentially a non-stop musical confetti cannon. No notes.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-27505112520646687792023-02-28T05:30:00.000-08:002024-02-11T21:50:30.970-08:00Live Review: Stella Donnelly, Jade Imagine and Mia June<h3 style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNPExqSQvjm6GrciRdxkV_O9_fwo_FxOc_gBozF4XPkJYw188oIfErknLI_7Qv_jjiKdIVNSsNyzA5t_3YDyjo1F73rTNBb1vw_Qh_EafoRgxeOdT_Lhrst2avgBoLfPoBLhC2skvgmZDh-GfH50ZAaMKvCIaEoyasZ2C9ROAHDrLzq0r63JnW1s34jK11/s1560/Stella-Donnelly.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1248" data-original-width="1560" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNPExqSQvjm6GrciRdxkV_O9_fwo_FxOc_gBozF4XPkJYw188oIfErknLI_7Qv_jjiKdIVNSsNyzA5t_3YDyjo1F73rTNBb1vw_Qh_EafoRgxeOdT_Lhrst2avgBoLfPoBLhC2skvgmZDh-GfH50ZAaMKvCIaEoyasZ2C9ROAHDrLzq0r63JnW1s34jK11/w400-h320/Stella-Donnelly.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Northcote Theatre</h3><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">Tonight (24 February) is unseasonably balmy, and the queue flowing down High Street toward Ruckers Hill is filled with stylish people who are clearly very excited to be there. In fact, Sydney’s Mardi Gras would be hard-pressed to have a queerer crowd than the one filing inside and filling the front of Northcote Theatre. This is the first show of </span><b style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">Stella Donnelly</b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">’s national tour to promote her new album </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">Flood</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">, and no one here wants to miss a second, not even of opening act </span><b style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">Mia June</b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">“I’ve never been here before. You guys are so nice!” the Perth singer-songwriter says with a genuine sense of surprise. Everything she does seems genuine, and we adore it. June and her four-piece band play a song she introduces as “the most depressing song I’ve ever written.” One that, over a few simple thrummed chords, builds to a climactic chorus of “I think about you now as if you’re dead.” The audience cheers the song as it is still playing, largely because of June’s humble delivery and colossal voice.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Other songs, <i>Melbourne</i>, <i>Try To Cry</i>, <i>Hungry</i>, and the closing <i>Fish In A Bowl</i>, showcase her combination of diary-specific moments (one song about a former partner’s “shit poetry” goes over especially well) and her ability to swoop from a back-off-the-mic piercing high note to a confessional whisper. Mia June is a real discovery and a talent unlikely to remain at the bottom of a bill for long.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Following June’s youthful confessionalism would be tricky for anyone. Thankfully, <b>Jade Imagine</b> deal in a very different energy. Opening with <i>Gonna Do Nothing</i>, the first in a set heavy with songs from 2022’s immaculately produced album <i>Cold Memory</i>, the sense of restraint and their signature cool touch perhaps come across as too controlled for the crowd. Well-crafted songs, leavened with warm synth, cooed vocals and the occasional George Harrison-esque guitar lick, is a terrific combination, but much of its power is lost in a room that seems to prefer overt personality and close-mic’ed melodic pop than chilled synth-driven grooves.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Cold Memory</i> is a Goldfrapp-esque slice of dark synthwave driven by a Herculean bass riff that should have turned the crowd into disciples. <i>Instinct That I Want To Know</i> pushes the BPM and generates a tension between Jade McInally’s moody vocals and the band’s surging rhythm section, giving a sense of taking flight. It’s a combination that is also used especially well in their set closer; the gorgeous <i>I Guess We’ll Just Wait</i>, a song that generates the enthusiastic response they deserve.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Stella Donnelly arrives beaming over the similarly insistent beats of Tavares’ disco classic <i>Heaven Must Be Missing An Angel</i> blasting over the PA, but barely audible over the cheering of the crowd. Stella is enthused by this. Really enthused. She opens her set with <i>Lunch</i> from her 2019 album <i>Beware Of The Dogs</i>, which gets explored as thoroughly as the album she’s here to promote, <i>Flood</i>.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Regardless of her songs’ subjects, most of which range from pretty dark to very dark, everything is delivered with a wide Emma Wiggle-style grin (and that’s long before we get to <i>Die</i> with its “everybody join in” crab dance, a performance that could easily double as an audition tape to join Australia’s best known colour-coded entertainers). But given the energy on stage and the volume of love in the room for Donnelly's songs (and by virtue of their intimacy, her), it’s impossible to imagine them being delivered any other way. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">“This song is dedicated to anyone who peaked in high school,” she says, introducing <i>Medals</i>. To judge by the response, it sounds like we all peaked in high school. Later, she apologises for her new haircut, a shoulder-length perm. “I look like a half-sucked mango pip,” she jokes, though, to this reviewer, it's a welcome reminder of her magnificent antecedent, Angie Hart. Donnelly’s hair acts as another means to express her dynamism as she twists her head when she’s not singing, as she rushes from instrument to instrument between songs and as she bugs out to the few sections of a song in which she’s not playing. We’re bugging out too.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><i>How Was Your Day?</i>, <i>Flood</i>, <i>Move Me</i>, and <i>Beware Of The Dogs</i> are bops that turn the audience into an almost-deafening choir. But the moments that truly stun are those quieter ones. Jack Gaby and Julia Wallace’s fluid multi-instrumentalism, Donnelly’s show-stopping, tear-jerking take on <i>Underwater</i>, with its billowing clouds of dry ice in purple light, the surprise choral ending to <i>This Week</i> and her invitation for Gaby to “do some Norah Jones shit” on the piano during her memorable ode to self-love, <i>Mosquito</i>. Whatever she does, the audience wants more of it.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Lungs</i> is one of Donnelly’s greatest examples of what she does best, making empathy sound irresistible. That this wasn’t the song to take her from sharehouse favourite to household name is mystifying. Donnelly thanks her band, tells us we’re amazing and closes her set with <i>Tricks</i>, which sees her on her back kicking her legs in the air before somehow delivering another example of egoless vocal pyrotechnics. With no encore, just Talking Heads’ <i>Burning Down The House</i> valiantly failing to drown out the cries of “one more song”, people file out, laughing about how they’ll see each other Tuesday night at Julia Jacklin’s show at the Forum. Undoubtedly, the collective call is...it’s pretty hard to pick holes in a perfect show.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-21981605540518393502023-02-19T05:30:00.000-08:002024-02-11T22:10:02.904-08:00Live Review: Soccer Mommy, Phoebe Go, Garage Sale<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;"><b></b></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7O0-godZaEO51mN7YWnjt7JAhpsgrCkhiFFw41WbsdZyqkVeIWv-ZAHKDP5WGLh8LEelDc3mUt5D93zlZYYBpGhLcWHmMRbDWA3j3xDe7fsXuXCOsTbYa7AW5brq7Do3adj4pSSGGHwkqcS0Jio10uJOsDelh5S-4HnyHsJ_MZeJfEshvMUziWKkJTfaO/s1200/Soccer-Mommy-2b.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7O0-godZaEO51mN7YWnjt7JAhpsgrCkhiFFw41WbsdZyqkVeIWv-ZAHKDP5WGLh8LEelDc3mUt5D93zlZYYBpGhLcWHmMRbDWA3j3xDe7fsXuXCOsTbYa7AW5brq7Do3adj4pSSGGHwkqcS0Jio10uJOsDelh5S-4HnyHsJ_MZeJfEshvMUziWKkJTfaO/w400-h400/Soccer-Mommy-2b.jpg" width="400" /></a></b></div><b>Croxton Bandroom</b><p></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><b><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span></b></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;">Even before the first of tonight’s two support bands begins, the room is almost full. It’s been another long, hot day, but there is no hint of lethargy in the crowd of mostly twentysomethings, and energy levels are set to upbeat anticipation. Local four-piece <b>Garage Sale</b> acknowledges that their inclusion on tonight’s bill is “pretty wild” before proving that they are a perfect fit. Fans of early nineties indie guitar pop will find plenty to like on the band’s 2022’s cassette release, <i>Shimmer</i>, most of which gets an airing tonight. Opening with the album’s closing track, <i>To Confide</i>, the tone is set with huge, distorted choruses and frequent synchronised dynamic shifts.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">On record, you can hear the influence of UK shoegaze bands; live, it's much more American indie. Songs will dip in volume to make way for Dan Sullivan’s shy, melodic vocals, and it’s an addictive combination, especially when his bandmates join him on the microphone. When the set closes with the band’s latest single, <i>Shoes On</i>, and the unreleased <i>Movie</i>, there is a definite sense of the entire venue being on board, a rare thing for the first band on a three-band bill.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Some people seem at home on a stage, and it is an instantly relaxing experience to watch them. Phoebe Lou, the fulcrum of four-piece <b>Phoebe Go</b>, is one of these people. Tonight’s set is a glorious mix of songs from the band’s acclaimed EP <i>Player</i> and, as Lou introduces, an unnamed song “that I started writing a couple of days ago”. Opening with <i>The Kid</i>, Phoebe Go’s set is full of radio-ready pop songs that make you wonder why they aren’t already famous.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">The band’s musicianship is almost distractingly good, but it's Lou’s charisma that keeps drawing attention back. When she is humming her way through an unwritten verse or nailing the recent single <i>Be The Player, Not The Poet</i>, we love whatever she’s doing, and there’s no doubt the band leave tonight with new fans.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">“We’re <b>Soccer Mommy</b>. Thank you for coming out,” says Sophie Allison. “We’re very happy to be back in Melbourne; it’s been a long time. We’ve got two albums of new material since we’ve last seen you.” True to her promise, tonight’s set is full of tracks from her most recent albums, the lockdown favourite <i>Color Theory</i>, and last year’s Pitchfork-adored <i>Sometimes, Forever</i>.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Joined by her partner, guitarist Julian Powell, guitarist and keyboardist Rodrigo Avendano, bassist Graeme Goetz and drummer Rollum Haas, Allison’s music is evoked with an almost disconcerting tightness. Songs that you can drift into through headphones – layered, spacious sensitive productions with intimate vocals – are brought to life with Haas’s podium-shaking beats, Goetz’s room-shuddering bass and three guitars. Allison’s stories of physical and mental illness are vividly rendered, and the whole set, from the Portishead-dark of <i>Unholy Affliction</i> to the singalong choruses of <i>Shotgun</i> and <i>Circle The Drain</i>, is oddly euphoric.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">At the microphone, Allison’s face is framed by her ruler-straight hair. As soon as she leaves it, her face disappears behind flailing brown curtains as she hacks away at a guitar, living the cathartic outro of <i>Yellow Is The Color Of Her Eyes</i> and the surging chorus of <i>Don’t Ask Me</i>. “We love you, soccer mother!” a fan shouts to her between songs. She smiles and talks about how she “recently became a mother”, to which the crowd cheers warmly. “To two cats,” she continues. “They’re six months old.” She jokes about missing them so much she could get on a flight right now.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">There is a real sense that the audience feel they know a songwriter as introspective as Allison, and to be caught up in a chorus like "Sedate me all the time / Don't leave me with my mind / Paralyzed / Paralyzed / Crawlin' in my skin" speaks volumes to her songwriting ability. After a solo rendition of early favourite <i>Still Clean</i>, the band return for an encore of the song that introduced her to most of us, <i>Your Dog</i>, a gloriously unifying end to a night that should nourish the heart of anyone doubting the power of a guitar and the well-written song in 2023.</span></p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-51864943980711570822023-02-02T05:30:00.000-08:002024-02-11T22:10:48.160-08:00Live Review: Cowboy Junkies<h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXzPvkm0HojhAVS-wE2B0-1WkDFwoxGHDzvEx2ZolWPIRxS-ERXatDtKSYdHqCJXEJRZKUpy0g9YkeS_dJbx2twG1gsODGA8N9Mp9Cx5INsWZfiZeV00g_tO8XjUB7SPV4MAgsrs8fqKknhhxz-GF-YA_1isHjPr9Uxsvolz_SVWifgCEInk8JyZm5kiR1/s1500/Cowboy-Junkies,-Melbourne-Recital-Centre.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXzPvkm0HojhAVS-wE2B0-1WkDFwoxGHDzvEx2ZolWPIRxS-ERXatDtKSYdHqCJXEJRZKUpy0g9YkeS_dJbx2twG1gsODGA8N9Mp9Cx5INsWZfiZeV00g_tO8XjUB7SPV4MAgsrs8fqKknhhxz-GF-YA_1isHjPr9Uxsvolz_SVWifgCEInk8JyZm5kiR1/w400-h300/Cowboy-Junkies,-Melbourne-Recital-Centre.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Melbourne Recital Centre</span></h3><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">Outside, a short while before showtime, pedestrians were wincing their way past the rain-lashed windows of the Melbourne Recital Centre, umbrellas inverted. Ubers hissing by in the rain, their prices surging to a height not seen since New Year’s Eve.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Inside the honey-coloured interior though, all is calm. On stage, the band quietly take their seats as the applause dies down, a delicate thrum emerges from the guitar amp and the <b>Cowboy Junkies</b> ease into their set with a cover of Neil Young’s <i>Don’t Let it Bring You Down</i>. As bassist Alan Anton lurks stage left and guitarist Michael Timmins sits hunched over his electric guitar, his brother Pete busies himself across his many drums and cymbals, the sound elevated in the room, often to the detriment of the band’s greatest asset, the voice of Pete’s older sister Margo. Sitting on a stool next to a small table holding a vase of proteas and a cup of tea, her platinum blonde hair reflecting the lights, as soon as she begins to sing the room audibly relaxes. This is what we came for.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Behind her sits Jeff Bird, who, as the show progresses, moves adeptly between harmonica, slide guitar, percussion and mandolin, which is usually heavily treated to sound like a heavily distorted electric guitar, a sound jarringly at odds with the experience of watching him play. The band’s decision to play their best-known song second, their cover of Lou Reed’s <i>Sweet Jane</i>, is a bold move, and one that speaks to the confidence of a band whose lineup has remained unchanged for nearly 40 years.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">“The promoter is here tonight,” says Margo Timmins, as the rapturous applause dies down. “When we started talking about this tour of Australia and New Zealand, I was 58. Now I’m 62,” she says, laughing. “What we’re going to try to do tonight is sell records. That’s what we’ve been trying to do for decades now. But first, we’re going to do two sets, the first is songs from the album we were planning to tour four years ago, <i>All This Reckoning</i>, and in the second set, hopefully, we’ll get to a song you came for.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">The set progresses with emotive folk funk of <i>The Things We Do to Each Other</i> and <i>Missing Children</i>, and a cover of The Rolling Stones’ <i>No Expectations</i> and David Bowie’s <i>Five Years</i>, but it’s the subtle signature perfection of their own <i>Dreaming My Dreams of You</i>, from the band’s career-making album <i>The Trinity Session</i> that really shines. Whisper-close vocals, subtle instrumentation and the audience filling the space with silent enthusiasm, it’s everything a fan could hope for.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">After a fifteen-minute break, a move that suggests they’ve occupied the spot of their own opening act, the Cowboy Junkies return with the bluesy warble of <i>I Don’t Get It</i> before moving into the opening tracks from their similarly legendary 1990 album <i>The Caution Horses</i>, <i>‘Cause Cheap Is How I Feel</i> and the magnificent <i>Sun Comes Up, It’s Tuesday Morning</i>. The crowd cheer the opening bars of each and Margo smiles, her warm voice inhabiting the characters of the songs. Women who feel like they could command an Annie Proulx short story or inspire a song by Alvvays.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">As they begin the psychedelic boogie of <i>Blue Guitar</i>, Margo coughs. She walks to the back of the stage, the rest of the band seemingly oblivious as she stares at the curtain behind them before wandering off. Michael Timmins spirals away on his Telecaster, the band remaining in symmetry. After several minutes Margo Timmins returns to the stage with a cup of tea, dunks the tea bag several times, sips it and returns to her seat before delivering the final verse in spellbinding fashion.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">After a brace of acoustic songs that take in another Neil Young cover (<i>Tired Eyes</i>) and a stunning, silencing version of <i>Rake</i> by Townes Van Zandt, Margo plays what she calls her “favourite Junkies song, one that makes me cry sometimes”, <i>Bea's Song</i>. Between these, Margo shares stories. One about a St Louis venue so mouldy because of its proximity to the Mississippi River that it was a relief it was washed away. Another about travelling to Chicago to play a concert and crying with a friend because they were about to turn 30, an impossibly huge number to two women in their late 20s. A third about how dazzling it was to walk in the Melbourne Botanic Gardens this morning and see “such wild birds, and even wilder trees”. "We couldn’t have mornings like this if you didn’t buy tickets and make the promoters happy. So, thank you,” she tells us.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Closing with their majestic <i>Misguided Angel</i>, <i>A Common Disaster</i> (“a song dedicated to my cold”, says Margo) and the dirty, dynamic blues of <i>Walking After Midnight</i>, what really stays with you after a Cowboy Junkies show is the sense of the people in the band. Their set may have largely comprised songs by other people, but when a band has been playing together for so long and played so many shows, the comfort they have with each other, the smoky magnificence of Margo Timmins voice when she draws in close to the microphone, or its power when she throws her head back and delivers a full-throated vibrato that even a cold can’t dull, it’s a reminder of how few bands have played as many gigs as Cowboy Junkies, and how few bands will ever have the opportunity to play even a tenth as many today.</span></p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-68772654825550837612022-12-18T05:30:00.000-08:002024-02-11T22:12:00.544-08:00Live Review: Cut Copy<h3 style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ShroyTQ8ObnNAz94Zal-ue56aAyzwn-EP7VNNl9EprTMV7NUsL3JN4JI-A97rtJq5jsbPT33NAUB-yy3LWKIrlvVr72Xxf9Ck2aXQwhJklHuC4YZpHg8I4W__Qv6-jL_bgjSXeJzvKgrCRu8w3pl1J5r2DxieWujDjA7Lx4gY5U8ptIc7A5QsX7Lnqcd/s2205/Cut-Copy-Northcote-Theatre-December-16,-2022%20(1).jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1645" data-original-width="2205" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ShroyTQ8ObnNAz94Zal-ue56aAyzwn-EP7VNNl9EprTMV7NUsL3JN4JI-A97rtJq5jsbPT33NAUB-yy3LWKIrlvVr72Xxf9Ck2aXQwhJklHuC4YZpHg8I4W__Qv6-jL_bgjSXeJzvKgrCRu8w3pl1J5r2DxieWujDjA7Lx4gY5U8ptIc7A5QsX7Lnqcd/w400-h299/Cut-Copy-Northcote-Theatre-December-16,-2022%20(1).jpg" width="400" /></a></div></h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">Northcote Theatre</h3><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">If there is any fatigue from the deluge of concerts and festivals lately, it’s not showing here tonight as a sold-out Northcote Theatre welcomes a rare hometown show for one of the city’s most beloved bands. “Playing Melbourne shows used to be every week for us,” says <b>Cut Copy</b> frontman Dan Whitford. “Now it’s every five years. It makes me reflect on the time we spent together. We dreamed of playing The Tote one day. We’ve still never played The Tote, to be honest,” he laughs, “but we’re here tonight. Thanks for supporting us all this time.”</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">The densely packed crowd cheers this mid-set confession. From the beginning, we are united by a strong work Christmas party vibe and gently glued to the venue floor by a combination of spilled beer, Red Bull and sticky mixers. There is a sense of gentle euphoria and release that matches the band’s glistening tones, warm burbling synths, easy tempos, and Whitford’s voice that, even 18 years on from their breakthrough album, never outstays its welcome. You could be fooled into thinking of Cut Copy as a band with six albums from which only a few banging choruses have entered the public consciousness, but tonight they prove they have a depth that few bands could rival. I’m still not sure what one fan meant when she shouted to a friend, “I hope they play the eighties song,” but it’s a safe bet that whatever she’s referring to is a glorious example of modest synth-pop with an understated chorus and a killer drop.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">The set begins with the slowly swelling <i>Cold Water</i>, a low-key scene-setter for <i>Feel The Love</i>, the opening track from Cut Copy’s best-known album, the near-masterpiece <i>In Ghost Colours</i>. It’s the first of many instances in which the band demonstrates their approach to tension and release. Whitford knows how to deploy the components of a song to maximum effect with minimum effort. He never strains for a hook; they arrive. For a band with such metronomic music, their songs never sound stolid or forced. Guitarist Tim Hoey and bassist Ben Browning play like they’re in Sonic Youth, their slashing moves almost unrelated to the song being played. Their leads could be running a few hundred metres down the road, their sound coming out of amplifiers at the Northcote Social Club. But it doesn’t matter, they match the energy and vibe of the song, and they look extremely cool doing it.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Love Is All We Share</i> gets ultra violet lights to go with its pulsing bass swells and a sensitivity that evokes early nineties Pet Shop Boys, but the audience uses any slowing of rhythm or dip in volume as an invitation to chat. As soon as we get another classic from <i>In Ghost Colours</i>, in this case, <i>Out There On The Ice</i>, attention is wrested back to the stage. The band deliver another example of an insistent verse, a hook-driven chorus and a teasing drop that turns the venue into a forest of arms and phones, the chorus builds up to transforming the place into a sweaty nightclub.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">It’s a pattern repeated throughout the set. The slower tempos and Balearic sound of the newer songs are interspersed with crowd-pleasing bangers, and it works beautifully. <i>Corner Of The Sky</i>, <i>Lights and Music</i>, <i>Saturdays</i>, <i>Need You Now</i>, and the closing <i>Hearts On Fire</i> get such a visceral response from the crowd even the guy with another guy on his shoulders is jumping and is airborne. Every part of the show is so well thought out, from the setlist to the lights, to the pacing, to the moments Whitford engages with the crowd. It all speaks to a quiet intelligence that feels rare in this fast-changing scene. There is never any sense of desperation or fear of losing attention. Beats are insistent, not urgent or assaulting, Whitford’s voice always in his sizeable comfort zone. Tracks from their 2020 album <i>Freeze Melt</i> sound cleaner and more concerned with an internal journey than a dance floor. These newer songs, like the encore <i>Running In The Grass</i>, are built on gorgeous harmonies and driven by concerns that, at least to an audience eager to revisit 2008, feel a little lost. But, on headphones, walking home through dark streets, they act as a perfect flip-side to a barnstorming homecoming show and make you glad for the continued existence of Cut Copy.</span></p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-49397875953606261792022-12-11T05:30:00.000-08:002024-02-11T22:12:19.470-08:00Live Review: Dry Cleaning and Girl and Girl<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbcLwLfwpKYYfDgtJZJGfxeTMrzF2bbqroQNsCIyhDP1lG_zBl-sXMsiwjaOUhFKkDnX2gEn-tw13DfKKBvLkbfQQ1QRubaOE3F7E7PF38iNbxSpBjFeXKU7FtmJ87dDT00CcX0FecjNeWh1a1CtWXIg_oj-K2g5A_kNYDLDicHu-5Q_SJibyFuCB_2TrT/s2000/Dry-Cleaning-Corner-Hotel-December-12-2.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="2000" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbcLwLfwpKYYfDgtJZJGfxeTMrzF2bbqroQNsCIyhDP1lG_zBl-sXMsiwjaOUhFKkDnX2gEn-tw13DfKKBvLkbfQQ1QRubaOE3F7E7PF38iNbxSpBjFeXKU7FtmJ87dDT00CcX0FecjNeWh1a1CtWXIg_oj-K2g5A_kNYDLDicHu-5Q_SJibyFuCB_2TrT/s320/Dry-Cleaning-Corner-Hotel-December-12-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><h3 style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;"><b>Corner Hotel</b></span></h3><p></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">A packed Corner Hotel is tingling with anticipation for this long-awaited show. Since their song </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">The Magic of Meghan</i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;"> first appeared in playlists and on end-of-year wrap ups three years ago, there has been a buzz about </span><b style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">Dry Cleaning</b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">, one that has grown with every critically acclaimed release and curiously thrilling video. Tonight, it finally releases in the first of two sold out Meredith sideshows.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Holding the tension of these final minutes is <b>Girl and Girl</b>, surely the most Melbourian band to hail from the Gold Coast. A prolific post-rock four piece with a sound like a series of removalist truck accidents – all breaking glass guitar and rhythms like collapsing furniture – their set is galvanising stuff, and all the better for the arresting presence of mulleted lead vocalist Kai James. He stamps his foot and wails into the microphone as if embodying the spirit of David Byrne at CBGBs. Then, legs entwined, steps back to push the head of his guitar against the floor, playing jagged chords like Roland S. Howard. Drummer Aunty Liss, James’s actual aunt, is an equally authoritative presence, deploying rhythms that would empower anyone with whom she shared a stage. <i>Shame It’s Not Now</i>, back-announced alongside a qualified recommendation for the film <i>Bones and All</i>, is one of several songs that match the energy of their delivery. Their “cowboy song” <i>Strangers</i> and <i>Divorce Song Number 2</i>, a highlight from their recent EP <i>Divorce</i>, are others. It’s a magnificent set from a band perfectly matched to the headliner. Who knew a Josef K seven-inch being played at 50 RPM could sound this good?</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Red curtains part, the sold out room goes wild, and Dry Cleaning arrive. Guitarist Tom Dowse pumps his fists in the air, matching our excitement as he reaches for his Burns electric 12-string and leads the band into one of 2022’s better songs, <i>Kwenchy Cups</i>. “Things are shit, but they're gonna be okay / And I'm gonna see the otters / There aren't any otters / There are…” Singer Florence Shaw stands as if in an unmoving queue wearing a pleated white dress, a garment made for movement. She stares at the ceiling as if conversing with a light bulb while around her, the band - Dowse, bassist Lewis Maynard, drummer Nick Buxton and keyboard player Dan - channel all the energy she isn’t spending on her delivery. They feel like no other band you’ve seen.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">“It’s like we’ve been texting for a long time, and we’ve only just met up,” Shaw says with a nervous smile. “So, it’s a bit scary.” Whatever fear she feels seems to dissipate quickly as the set progresses. Between-song smiles become more common, the microphone stand gripped less frequently, and when several members of the very enthusiastic crowd shout the brand of lager she's sipping, “Moon Dog!”, she looks at the can, grins and quietly tells us, “It’s nice”. Front-loaded with their faster songs - <i>Gary Ashby</i>, <i>Viking Hair</i> and <i>Scratchcard Lanyard</i> - Dry Cleaning’s set is a thrilling mix of old and new. The crowd sang along with the extremely wordy <i>Her Hippo</i>, <i>Leafy</i> and <i>No Decent Shoes for Rain</i>, which is no small thing.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">On stage, Dowse and Maynard are all tattooed limbs, wide-legged stances and comically rock faces, as if in a Van Halen cover band losing a Friday night crowd, all of which accentuates Shaw’s librarian ghost vibe. The set, which showcases more atmospheric songs from their latest album, <i>Stumpwork</i>, pauses for the room to sing <i>Happy Birthday</i> to Dan, who then takes the microphone for a joyously chaotic rendition of The Misfits’ <i>TV Casualty</i>. Shaw returns for the almost jazzy <i>Conservative Hell</i> before they close their set with a blistering take of <i>The Magic of Meaghan</i>, a song that – with its wry assessment of the life and media treatment of Meghan Markle – inadvertently measures how the world has changed since 2019. Unsatisfied, the crowd bay for “one more song”, which the band happily provide in the form of obscure bass-driven near instrumental <i>Tony Speaks!</i> and <i>Stumpwork</i>’s opening track, <i>Anna Calls the Arctic</i>, a low-key sign-off to a brace of tunes which, if the brisk trade at the merch desk is anything to go by, found an extremely appreciative audience.</span></p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-60979986350718287182022-12-08T05:30:00.000-08:002024-02-11T22:12:34.131-08:00Live Review: Sharon van Etten, BATTS<h3 style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheCLwmGI8sAeojW1WGwlOfLIjAw0NtJdeXQUHis86_GECuPABSDfLaAjp_c-sPWslKF7ZvC8M744CMWSl2aHYhRa1Pe_kDweKp1Fwebj3DXAWozsCuHOSuqXgWvIKUCG5KhbXrPOK8dEPOejQxBymngpgqnQqXB3GGk44_sc0wXwFjNSCLiqChaabzjKeP/s3000/SVE_EL-8.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Photo: Esther Linder" border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="3000" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheCLwmGI8sAeojW1WGwlOfLIjAw0NtJdeXQUHis86_GECuPABSDfLaAjp_c-sPWslKF7ZvC8M744CMWSl2aHYhRa1Pe_kDweKp1Fwebj3DXAWozsCuHOSuqXgWvIKUCG5KhbXrPOK8dEPOejQxBymngpgqnQqXB3GGk44_sc0wXwFjNSCLiqChaabzjKeP/w400-h266/SVE_EL-8.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Northcote Theatre</b></span></span></h3><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Tonight’s lineup has drawn a sold-out crowd to catch the sideshow of Meredith headliner, but it’s the venue that is the true opening act. Many seem to be visiting the 1500-capacity venue in Melbourne’s inner north for the first time and comments about the opulent roof, the curious layout, the thrill at having a new venue (even though it has been hosting events since 1921) and the cavernous sound, pepper conversations during the set of support act<b> BATTS</b>. Batts notices this and throughout her set she politely requests attention from the audience, but with many of her songs having similar strumming patterns, her limited vocal range and the acoustics stealing many of her lyrics, it’s difficult to be compelled. “This song is called <i>Reassess the Marks</i>,” she says. “It’s a song about discovering what you can and can’t achieve.” Even with a backing band, it’s difficult to imagine these songs as arresting attention. When Sharon van Etten guests on <i>Blue</i>, a song they wrote together, there is a sudden sense of personality, melodies feel less obvious and the repetitive strumming of the same guitar through the same reverb pedal that we’ve been hearing all night takes on a different mood. Even her “uplifting” singalong closing song, <i>Keeping On</i>, feels like acquiescing to convenience and can’t drag people’s attention away from each other.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">By the time <b>Sharon van Etten</b> arrives the room is packed, the dialogue from a scene from <i>Yellowjackets</i> plays as the room darkens, the band assembles and the bright lights from the small stage reveal her silhouette. Diving into the driving bass-heavy riffs that anchor <i>Headspace</i>, van Etten seems to be channelling Chrissy Amphlett or Iggy Pop with her pout, her posturing and the way she moves, as if surging with power. She stalks the stage, drops to her knees, jabs her guitarist, Charley Damski, in the chest to mark the hook of a chorus before kissing his forehead, making sure all eyes are on her. As the insistent synth and drum opening of <i>Comeback Kid</i> fills the room, it becomes obvious that the venue’s sound troubles are, at least for tonight, over. Van Etten’s band, Jorge Balbi on drums, Devon Hoff on bass, Teeny Lieberson on vocals and synths and Damski on synthesizers and guitars, work astonishingly well together, each leaving space for the other, for van Etten, and for the room, giving her songs a sense of maximalism and confidence. The room quietens and van Etten dons a Gibson Hummingbird for <i>Anything</i>, one of the highlights from her latest record, <i>We’ve Been Going About This All Wrong</i>.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>“It’s hard to believe it’s been three years,” she says with a nervous smile, to the sound of raucous cheers. “We have so much to catch up on,” she laughs. “Honestly, I have so much more to say,” she waits for the cries of “we love you Sharon!” to die down before continuing. “This is another song from my new record,” she says, stepping back from the microphone as the opening bars of <i>Come Back</i>, its anthemic chorus and her and Liberson’s harmonies melding together with an unusual vibrancy, driving home how much more these songs take on in a live setting.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"></span><br /></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">“It’s been a long time since some of us have been around other people,” she says as the applause fades. “I’ve been told that I dance like Elaine,” she tells us. “But it’s all about connecting with people and being in a safe space and if you want to dance badly with me you have permission to do that,” she says as the band launch into <i>Mistakes</i>, one of the clear highlights from the show and, if the audience at Meredith is awarding Boots this year, this feels like a prime candidate, or may have already won. As soon as its chorus hits, “Even when I make a mistake, mistake / Turns out it's great” the room is filled with swaying bodies, in and out of rhythm, inhabiting exactly the sort of feeling you want from a gig like this. <i>Every Time the Sun Comes Up</i> follows and the band are cheered back out for an encore of <i>Darkness Fades</i> and <i>Seventeen</i>, the perfect closer to a stunning set. People literally seem to be glowing with joy as they surge to the exits and out into the street.</span></p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-69390074498675713642022-11-30T05:30:00.000-08:002024-02-11T22:12:49.110-08:00Live Review: Ride, Moaning Lisa<h3 style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo5bEH0ZKvcMuKyApGa7V9c6tlogJPhFo6PE948tZkJsZpD4c6n8LxgTxKVkBZmSwXSDazYLQtAT3nDEoXoqN0Ytri6Xjw5vbXEckt0pSYdB2RoiXhFtnWr___z-0A4gUgbrIP37575tepAVwOY3LNAR0RAAxKFuV7cjbYYBt6LvPEiOmj6Ym5SSUoeUuy/s3822/Ride-The-Forum-Nove-30-2022.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2427" data-original-width="3822" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo5bEH0ZKvcMuKyApGa7V9c6tlogJPhFo6PE948tZkJsZpD4c6n8LxgTxKVkBZmSwXSDazYLQtAT3nDEoXoqN0Ytri6Xjw5vbXEckt0pSYdB2RoiXhFtnWr___z-0A4gUgbrIP37575tepAVwOY3LNAR0RAAxKFuV7cjbYYBt6LvPEiOmj6Ym5SSUoeUuy/w400-h254/Ride-The-Forum-Nove-30-2022.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Forum Theatre</span></b></h3><p>“Four little beans from Canberra at the Forum!” says <b>Moaning Lisa</b> bassist and vocalist Hayley Manwaring with goofy awestruck joy. “This next song is called Sun,” she continues, introducing the final song from the underrated band’s 2018 EP Do You Know Enough?. Searing harmonies and widescreen guitar from Ellen Chan elevate it in scope and sound, making it big enough to meet the packed room. The majority of the crowd seem enthralled by the four-piece, and as they bring their set to a riotous close, it’s safe to say many new fans were born.</p><p>As the crowd awaits the arrival of the Oxonian shoegaze gods, discussion in the crowd turns to what songs <b>Ride</b> will play. This tour is the 30th anniversary of their genre-shifting debut album Nowhere, one of the greatest musical encapsulations of youthful vigour or, in the words of David Bevan in his review of its 2011 reissue for Pitchfork, “a near-perfect record”. That will be played in full, but will we get tracks from their most recent albums? Will they keep it old school and play songs from their EPs? There must be new songs too. Their 2019 show, also at the Forum, was a surprisingly lacklustre grind through songs that lost their energy from being played by men who seemed disconnected from the feelings that inspired them. Thankfully, only seconds after arriving on stage, all memories of that performance are banished. Singer and guitarist Mark Gardener’s floppy fringe may be long gone, and eternal foil Andy Bell may be hiding stage right under a baseball cap that spends most of the night tilted toward the neck of his guitar, but the opening squall of feedback that announces Seagull is like an electric shock that sends us back to 1990. Everything sounds bigger and better than everything else. As the band launches into Kaleidoscope, it becomes apparent that there is some kind of dark magic here that goes beyond fidelity. It’s not just the crowd willing the band to be good or the subtle backing tracks augmenting the songs; it is the songs themselves. Even after being drenched in distortion and cranked to eleven, these are delicate immaculately-written tunes. Songs that could have been played on acoustic guitars in English folk clubs in the early 1970s.</p><p>“We’re going to slow down now, catch our breath,” says Gardener. The album’s third track, In a Different Place, sounds vibrant, plaintive and melancholic. The band’s rhythm section, drummer Laurence Colbert and bassist Steve Queralt, emerge as the stars, even of quieter and more atmospheric songs such as this and the following Polar Bear. Much of the power of Ride’s music comes from its scale and the sense of space the guitars fill in their creation. That Bell is plagued with technical issues throughout the night, necessitating the frequent appearance of his guitar technician, makes the show feel a little more amateur, more youthful, and more honest. In a sign that we are not, in fact, in 1990, the tightly packed and joyous crowd turns into a forest of phones for Colbert’s anthemic introduction to the utterly mesmerising Dreams Burns Down. It is sometimes hard to equate the sounds being heard with the scant effort that lead guitarist Bell makes. A flick of the wrist over his Rickenbacker 12-string, speakers explode with euphoric glory, and it sounds as though the venue needs structural reinforcement. Apple Watches throughout the room alert their owners that the volume has exceeded 100dB and that they are now in danger of temporary hearing loss. Still, songs like Decay are the aural equivalent of a warm hug from a polar bear and surely not something that can result in harm. (Twelve hours on, my ears are still ringing). Closing track, and career highlight, Vapour Trail, is everything the superfan could hope for. So beautifully is it rendered that the string quartet responsible for its distinctive coda isn’t missed. I hug a similarly dewy-eyed stranger, and we both nod in understanding, this is as good as it gets. The band has caught us and resurrected the past in an astonishingly powerful way. As the faint smell of gangja drifts across the crowd, like the fumes from Dr Emmett Brown’s DeLorean, Ride continues the track listing of Nowhere (Expanded Edition) familiar to Spotify listeners with Taste, Unfamiliar and Nowhere, which Gardener introduces as, “our last song”. While the band’s return for the encore of Lannoy Point, Future Love and OX4, renders that statement untrue, Gardener’s claim that “Melbourne is always the best show of the Australian run,” does feel honest. The joy that infuses the colossal closing tracks Kill Switch, Leave Them All Behind and their first-ever single Chelsea Girl feels earned. By which time, fans are spent.</p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-52732105075824659862022-10-21T06:30:00.000-07:002024-02-11T21:01:02.516-08:00Live Review: Steel Panther, Airborne<p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 16px; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkhMnAbNMh-51sGDgLOyhyphenhyphenkOBIbCR1gbxjjveImQGQ1OCtfLQP2OwDyYhaGW4x5qxfuPHXmFg_VotTe9iJpV7b-mZrqTMPMffD6jhU71cY-Nb_JSYiNdaS1kxIZOtDaypKhmC_xkEa7KKGb-edISjP__nKAyhR5FYeqwyDlWARORa_QMC4zEx8GQ1PqzY9/s2048/Steel%20Panther%20L-R%20Spyder,%20Michael%20Starr,%20Satchel.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Pic: Barry Douglas" border="0" data-original-height="1323" data-original-width="2048" height="259" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkhMnAbNMh-51sGDgLOyhyphenhyphenkOBIbCR1gbxjjveImQGQ1OCtfLQP2OwDyYhaGW4x5qxfuPHXmFg_VotTe9iJpV7b-mZrqTMPMffD6jhU71cY-Nb_JSYiNdaS1kxIZOtDaypKhmC_xkEa7KKGb-edISjP__nKAyhR5FYeqwyDlWARORa_QMC4zEx8GQ1PqzY9/w400-h259/Steel%20Panther%20L-R%20Spyder,%20Michael%20Starr,%20Satchel.jpeg" width="400" /></a><b><span style="font-size: large;">Margaret Court Arena</span></b></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Sometimes a music reviewer needs to set aside their critical faculties and simply relay a series of events. Tonight’s performance by the satirical American hair metal band <b>Steel Panther</b> is one of those times. </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">The four-piece opened their set with <i>Goin' in the Backdoor</i> and <i>Tomorrow Night</i> and played some of their best-known songs, <i>All I Wanna Do Is Fuck (Myself Tonight)</i>, <i>Poontang Boomerang,</i> as well as their new single <i>Never Too Late (To Get Some Pussy Tonight)</i>. Much of the set was given over to comedic commentary. Examples include Satchel’s statement, “The next pandemic is gonorrhoea, and it starts with this guy right here,” while pointing at singer Michael Starr, Starr’s impersonation of Ozzy Osbourne, bumbling around the stage and needing the Heimlich manoeuvre after choking on the head of a fake bat, drummer Stix Zadinia’s hapless shrug after Satchel’s disclosure of his erectile dysfunction and bassist Spyder’s role as the butt of jokes about being new to the band. Both songs and banter were appreciated by the crowd, and it is here that I feel the need to simply disclose facts. It’s how some members of the crowd showed their appreciation that could tie a pseudo-sociologist in knots. When one member of the crowd volunteers to personify <i>Asian Hooker</i>, the crowd cheers as Starr goes on his knees before her to sing, “sucky fucky smells like sushi”. Later, when another woman takes a seat on stage and Spyder’s plea, “I really really really really want to see those titties” is rewarded, it’s hard not to think about agency and who has what power in this situation. But she laughs, the band do their mock “OMG Boobies!” faces like the horny teenagers these guys in their fifties most definitely are not, the crowd cheers, and she nails the hook to one of Steel Panther’s more notable odes to anal sex, <i>Weenie Ride</i>.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">After a solo set from Satchel in which he links dozens of iconic metal riffs in some kind of guitar shop employee nightmare, Starr invites dozens of women to the stage. Soon, they are in various stages of undress, and band members are struggling to express just how great they think the bouncing breasts suddenly surrounding them are that it becomes something approximating a sex-positive party. When some of those women start interacting, taking the show from a M to an R rating, and Starr says, “well, this is great, but I don’t see any vaginas”, and...cue vaginas, you can only imagine how horrified the venue’s namesake, noted arch-conservative Margaret Court would be, and laugh. <i>Party Like Tomorrow is the End of the World</i>, <i>17 Girls in a Row</i> and <i>Death to All But Metal</i> are raucous anthems that give the band the chance to show how much musical and song writing talent lies under all the hair and makeup, but once the women leave, they really can’t be followed. They try, with an encore of <i>Community Property </i>and <i>Gloryhole</i>, but the energy levels drop and as they group together at the front of the stage, just for a moment, you can see just how much energy a show like this takes.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Energy levels are not a problem for the night’s opening act, local hard rock icons <b>Airbourne</b>. After spending most of the year overseas and with a rare opportunity to play a venue the size of their production, from the opening minutes, it was hard to think of this as anything except a headliner in full force. In front of their own massive flag, a wall of Marshall stacks, a busy light show, explosions of flames, sparks and dry ice and the songs to back all this up, this is hard rock theatre of the highest order. Singer Joel O'Keeffe has so much energy to share that to express it, he must simultaneously crowd surf while running Angus Young-style, play a guitar solo and open a can of beer by smashing it against his head. As black t-shirts and cans of Canadian Club fly through the air, it’s hard to imagine a sound bigger than O’Keeffe’s astonishing falsetto cresting over the band’s smashing cymbals and savaged guitars as they bring <i>Breakin' Outta Hell</i> to a deafening close. After asking the security to allow crowd surfing and tribute to Lemmy Kilmister, <i>It’s All for Rock and Roll</i>, O'Keeffe baptises us all in VB by throwing red cups of the stuff into the crowd, giving the extremely honed band a moment to catch their breath. The NWOBHM-heavy riffage of <i>Runnin’ Wild</i> sees the crowd lose it all over again, bringing the show to a shuddering, howling close. A triumph.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-family: Helvetica; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-35158883630292421192022-10-16T06:30:00.000-07:002024-02-11T20:53:06.885-08:00Live Review: Art of Fighting and Sally Seltmann<h3 style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRn8WQIMmsEpJuCFObpQnv5sWp58YnGKZCUumgkSNThSkK0L6nWzMbocgykblfGif6FM77Bfv3xu-mbS0yQnrYTwBMerDg4V8xEYdao0bm0Q0ZNQWN3-VjLc3HH-ZVUf59xkgumzauRguOlcyrivxjvPgAbobEb6SeMUNO96RjIRmbl0MdPhrkXB1fOw_W/s2000/Art-of-Fighting-MRC-Oct-15-2022-3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1148" data-original-width="2000" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRn8WQIMmsEpJuCFObpQnv5sWp58YnGKZCUumgkSNThSkK0L6nWzMbocgykblfGif6FM77Bfv3xu-mbS0yQnrYTwBMerDg4V8xEYdao0bm0Q0ZNQWN3-VjLc3HH-ZVUf59xkgumzauRguOlcyrivxjvPgAbobEb6SeMUNO96RjIRmbl0MdPhrkXB1fOw_W/w400-h230/Art-of-Fighting-MRC-Oct-15-2022-3.jpg" width="400" /></a>Melbourne Recital Centre</b></h3><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">“This is such an aesthetically pleasing venue,” says </span><b style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">Sally Seltmann</b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 16px;">, gazing around the honey-coloured interior of the Melbourne Recital Centre. “But it’s intimidating, and I’m such a clutz on stage,” she laughs. “But you should just be yourself, right?” </span></div><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Sally Seltmann is exactly who we want Sally Seltmann to be, and during her half-hour opening set we get an insight into her feelings; the risks that come with openness (<i>Heart That’s Pounding</i>), the joy of going to cafes alone (<i>Table For One</i>), uncertainty around devoting her life to music (<i>Seed Of Doubt</i>), how she wished she could write a book (<i>Book Song</i>) – something she later did – and heartfelt reassessments of the past (<i>Night Bird </i>and <i>Please Louise</i>), songs that wouldn’t sound out of place in either iteration of <i>Heartbreak High</i>.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Alone on stage with her Nord Electro 6 synthesiser and her phone from which she triggers sparse rhythm tracks, Seltmann somehow manages to interpret beautifully written and thoughtful songs, while at the same time being a goofball. “This is me folks!” she laughs after stopping a song for the second time because of a forgotten lyric. It feels churlish to say that these moments might be the highlights of a set that includes an overlooked masterpiece like <i>Yes</i> (“<i>And I'll be in your car and driving / Straight through a red light / While you're running through my mind / Arrest me and say yes</i>”), but they join us to her in the moment and amplify every other sentiment expressed. And when you have a personality like Seltmann’s, more is more.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">After a brief interlude during which the venue quietly reaches capacity, <b>Art Of Fighting </b>arrive on stage for the hometown show of their <i>Wires</i> tour. The reception is warm, the acoustics perfect and as they commence playing their 2001 album, the backdrop behind them transforms into the first of a series of sketches of a cityscape, a different view of the album’s artwork. </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Art Of Fighting formed in the mid-1990s and released three albums and a handful of EPs before going on hiatus in 2007. In 2019, they returned with the album <i>Luna Low</i>, a release that seemed to fold the intervening years together. Like their previous albums, songs feature two dry Fender telecasters played by brothers Ollie and Miles Browne, Peggy Frew’s restless basslines and occasional hushed vocals and scattering flurries of Marty Brown’s drums. Spread this instrumentation across a song that sits at around 60bpm and apply the turn of the millenia tendency for a white male to sing beautifully in an alto vocal range you have the formula. That may sound reductive, but it’s what the band does with it that makes their music so compelling. Even 20 years on from <i>Wires</i>, the moment they begin it feels like a safe harbour.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">Once the glacial pace of opening song <i>Skeletons</i> builds to <i>Give Me Tonight </i>and the crashing crescendo of <i>Akula </i>fades, Ollie fills the silence following another wave of applause and cheering. “We are Art Of Fighting,” he says bashfully. “We’re playing <i>Wires</i>. It’s been 20 years and that’s a long time. I was in the green room earlier and thinking, ‘Wow I can’t believe this album came out when I was five,’” he jokes, keeping his eyes on the floor in front of him. Frew’s warm smile subsides before he adds, “I’ll stick to the music.” The air thickened with dry ice and lights reaching out over the audience, played live <i>Wires </i>is revealed to be an almost monumental study in minimalism. With no guest vocalists, no string section arriving to leaven a chorus and only Miles’ occasional keyboard to flavour the sound, the band work together in a way that seems near telepathic. Part of the power of hearing this music in 2022 is its collaborative nature. With Covid-related restrictions pushing so many musicians to work with technology and so few bands having spent this much time playing together, the sense that this is music borne from hundreds of hours of rehearsals and recordings and concerts becomes almost tangible tonight.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"><i>Wires </i>may be best known for beating albums by You Am I, Magic Dirt and Something For Kate at the 2001 ARIA Awards, in one of the most surprising upsets in their history, but these songs never feel like they are striving for anything. There is an effortlessness to every element, as if you’re being trusted with a confession. Ollie may tighten his face to sing a song like <i>Just Say I’m Right</i>, but it feels as though this is from inhabiting a memory, not because he is straining for a note.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;">After a standing ovation brings them back out for an encore of closing songs from other albums, <i>Heart Translation </i>and <i>Luna Low</i>, which may be the strongest song of the night, there is a sense of grace and restraint to even the loudest moments. Like there are depths yet to be plumbed. With music like this, there seems no reason Art Of Fighting can’t do this all over again in 30 years. Or sooner.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 16px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="s1" style="font-kerning: none;"> </span></p><br />Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-4501268555830119772022-09-09T23:17:00.015-07:002022-09-11T23:44:43.970-07:00Live Review: Beabadoobee and Molly Payton<div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWTiVe7zSXSKPSY9F9MQQNpx0L8VI4XpewoyGBRbkNJTQkNtnDIlHd4IHpO0_aAz0s06nxiwlsCmfEvoq8dVQ237lTJeAmXz5B16yEtulmVcvBLIqoTZy_lcPejxFuKi9xX5JezQ37YMXkdSgm3BwI3hL3k7ZjRao4gCP0AWBuyjSfK1swsJIcK9_XuA/s4032/IMG_3734.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWTiVe7zSXSKPSY9F9MQQNpx0L8VI4XpewoyGBRbkNJTQkNtnDIlHd4IHpO0_aAz0s06nxiwlsCmfEvoq8dVQ237lTJeAmXz5B16yEtulmVcvBLIqoTZy_lcPejxFuKi9xX5JezQ37YMXkdSgm3BwI3hL3k7ZjRao4gCP0AWBuyjSfK1swsJIcK9_XuA/w400-h300/IMG_3734.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Forum Theatre</b></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Outside the Forum Theatre, a queue trails down Flinders Street, onto Degraves Lane and around another block on Flinders Lane. Inside, the room fills quickly with a predominantly female-presenting, refreshingly un-Caucasian crowd with a smattering of fake freckles and a lot of cute backpacks. Entwined couples and groups of friends feed into an atmosphere that is edging on euphoric anticipation, and a sense that this is among the first concerts that many attendees have been to.</div><div><br /></div><div>Taking advantage of the excitement, London-based Kiwi singer-songwriter Molly Payton proves a great match for the headliner. She and her band occupy the stage with a naturalness that feels emboldening. Payton has an easy demeanour and a huge sound that comprises the mass of shoegaze guitars and arena-sized drum fills yet finds space to draw things to an alt-country intimacy that feels full of confidence and intelligence when she wants to. She finishes her set with the anthemic <i>How to Have Fun</i> and the plaintive jangle of <i>Honey</i>, the opening track to <i>Slack</i>, her recent album that no doubt picked up some more listeners after tonight.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thirty minutes later, and to a wave of joyous screaming, Beabadoobee arrives on stage, grabs her guitar as the band assembles behind her and launches into her pop epic <i>Worth It</i>. The crowd surges toward her and within seconds at least one fan is pulled over the barrier and out of the crush. “You’re ill Melbourne,” she says hoarsely, as the cymbals shimmer and the guitar fades from the song’s close. “I’m so ill. I’m ill as fuck, but I’m still going to play for you guys.” Today’s meet at greet at Sound Merch in Collingwood was accompanied by a sign that told fans the singer had a sore throat and was close to losing her voice, though tonight it doesn’t sound like it. How much is due to backing vocal tracks isn’t clear, but they’re clearly playing a big part. Regardless of whether it’s all her or she’s miming, the crowd’s devotion never wavers. Some songs (<i>He Gets Me So High</i>, <i>Care</i>, <i>10:36</i>) inspire a forest of phones and hours of new material for TikTok. Others (<i>Yoshimi Forest Magdalene</i>, <i>She Plays Bass</i>) send an electric shock through the crowd who respond to their opening chords by shaking their heads, filling the room with spinning hair.</div><div><br /></div><div>On stage, Beabadoobee spends most of the night rooted to her microphone, sometimes edging away with small kicks that – along with any movement or gesture - trigger a swell of excited screams. The eyes of guitarist Jacob Bugden stay glued on the neck of his guitar as he fills the space between his amplifiers and the phalanx of pedals at his feet. Bassist Eliana, the most focused of the quartet, smiles as she plugs away, anchoring the song with her warmth while drummer Luca Caruso does a sterling job in taking the songs away from their backing tracks and making them feel live, loud and immediate.</div><div><br /></div><div>“This is my favourite track from the record,” Beabadoobee says, her voice notably thinner as she introduces the recent single <i>See You Soon</i>. By the time it reaches the ears of the crowd, even a slower, gentler song like this is turned into a banger with hundreds of arms sent aloft amid a rowdy singalong. <i>Talk</i>, with its chorus of “we go out on a Tuesday” brings even more energy from the crowd and thoughts how many of these songs would be perfect on the soundtrack to <i>10 Things I Hate About You</i>, the answer, almost all of them.</div><div><br /></div><div>Even with her voice audibly weakening as the show progresses, it’s clear that she really wants everyone to have a good night. When we call her back for an encore, Beabadoobee returns with just an acoustic guitar and a plea. “You’ve got to sing this song with me OK,” she asks. “You know it, it’s called <i>Coffee</i>.” But, with so many people focused on filming, few people beyond the first few rows join in on the song that made her famous. Regardless, the concert closes on the high-energy high of <i>Cologne</i>, one of her earliest and strongest songs. As Bugden goes all Sonic Youth on his Fender Stratocaster and Caruso pulls out some fierce double-kick and cymbal smashes, the sense of euphoria never drops. These songs are so strong and the connections they’ve made have brought so many people together that, even through illness, this is a triumphant show. It makes you wonder what she could do at full strength.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-50546007383623757692022-08-12T23:21:00.027-07:002022-09-11T23:44:27.753-07:00Live Review: The Smyths, Fleeting Persuasion<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjSOIHegvJqr7bVt9IA3u3Wx9Vaj-hiBzh06RmWJ_CqZPJKoKJvKuOZCiRxJPK0mHkrcZPc01a8PJsLrbUw_gVw3E4HPu8J_3d6yJvxF9QLrco6MGAIklApUhq5nK3EDOcu-XWumb6Nb_X_R4op_yidkvgrYY38WIAGJgTt_RKa6xfP4XAaiAuGogf8fg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="645" data-original-width="970" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjSOIHegvJqr7bVt9IA3u3Wx9Vaj-hiBzh06RmWJ_CqZPJKoKJvKuOZCiRxJPK0mHkrcZPc01a8PJsLrbUw_gVw3E4HPu8J_3d6yJvxF9QLrco6MGAIklApUhq5nK3EDOcu-XWumb6Nb_X_R4op_yidkvgrYY38WIAGJgTt_RKa6xfP4XAaiAuGogf8fg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Max Watts</b></span><p></p><p>On their website, The Smyths explain that they are not a Smiths tribute band. Rather than don ornamental hearing aids and paisley shirts while flinging gladioli in mimicry, The Smyths are focused on evoking the atmosphere of a Smiths gig in the 1980s. Having played over 760 shows in nearly 20 years, it’s entirely possible that tonight’s sold-out crowd will witness the closest thing possible to a concert by the most influential British band of the last 40 years. </p><p>First up however is <b>Fleeting Persuasion</b> who deliver moody, polished mid-tempo guitar pop reminiscent of the music scene that birthed tonight’s headliners. Fronted by Melbourne singer-songwriter J M S Harrison, the band seem more interested in riff and vibe than hooks with songs spiralling out over mesmeric rhythms. It’s a confident move for a band not used to playing in venues this size – to intrigue and lure rather than fight for attention – and it’s one that largely pays off. When they close their set with forthcoming single <i>Etched</i>, the only shame is that the whole gig couldn’t have been accompanied by a low-fi, slow motion early 90s music video, perhaps one caught on Rage at 2am.</p><p>Blasting into their set with <i>Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now</i>, to wild screams of abandon from the crowd, arms, beers and phones aloft, singer Graham Sampson, dressed in black suit and with his spotted shirt unbuttoned to a few inches north of his navel, implores us, as he will do many times this evening, that he loves us dearly. “We got here as quick as the world would allow us,” he says, grasping at his heart before extending his hand toward us. What becomes immediately apparent, even more than the astonishing musicality of the band, is the way that music production has changed since The Smiths left a recording studio for the last time. The fidelity of the music that inspires us all to be here is exceeded in a way that lends the instruments a sense of size that seems appropriate, because it’s Max Watts in 2022, but is also definitely not the sound of an indie band in the 1980s.</p><p><i>William, It Was Really Nothing</i>, <i>Hand in Glove</i> and <i>Panic</i> follow, each sounding louder, faster and more muscular than their original versions and each drawing a wildly impassioned response from the crowd. Guitarist Andy Munro does an astonishing interpretation of Johnny Marr’s guitar playing, managing to make the listener forget that there are at least a dozen other guitar parts (and often strings and synthesisers) augmenting his trickling melodies and slashing chords. Similarly, bassist Simon Hudson reminds you just how remarkable a player The Smiths’ Andy Rourke was. After an imaginative reinvention of <i>There is a Light That Never Goes Out</i>, the band break for an interval, “because we are old men,” Sampson jokes. The happily burbling crowd surge toward the bar, some guessing which songs we’re yet to hear, all seeming very glad they came. </p><p>Returning with <i>The Queen is Dead</i>, The Smyths’ seem refreshed, and Sampson’s voice is in fine form, eager to show us that his falsetto is indeed (quite possibly like yours) stronger than Morrissey’s. The joy of hearing someone even attempt to play these songs, let alone to do so with such skill and attention to detail, is a thrill for anyone with even a passing interest in The Smiths. While <i>Reel Around the Fountain</i> and <i>Last Night I Dreamed That Somebody Loved Me</i> are shorn of their subtleties by the band’s faster and harder approach, songs that can barely contain their own defiant wilfulness such as <i>These Things Take Time</i>, <i>The Boy with the Thorn in His Side</i> and <i>This Charming Man</i>, are triumphs. Sampson’s vigorous thesping suits the songs perfectly, and it never feels as though he is simply trying to be Morrissey, a prospect that has become increasingly fraught over the last decade. Pacing the stage, dropping to his knees, offering his microphone to the crowd to sing choruses and some of Morrissey’s choicest lines, there is so much love in the room that it feels there is no room for doubt.</p><p>“You can tell it’s a good gig because my whiff is destroyed,” Sampson tells the crowd. “I’ve been made over,” he smiles. Departing the stage to a blistering <i>Bigmouth Strike Again</i> and returning for an encore of <i>Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want</i> and <i>How Soon is Now</i> that, tribute band or not, provoked so much inarguable joy from the crowd The Smyths could only regard the night as a triumph.</p><div><br /></div><p><br /></p>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7945527645502554139.post-55683605603752543752022-04-05T23:29:00.002-07:002022-09-11T23:44:09.107-07:00Live Review: Martha Marlow, Luke Howard<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEglR-sOqBEt-tgCjeCwZ1xLMiKjRn2SxprOp54paBU2V1zClcTDvFuuKG4hTxmd0Fh5UxIlBwdPThKmaD9yz6lP8xyP6fWeTmBZnwveeLF36njJCLS4cTTkudFSr3pj6-1fmjy7yudbbmcIXA5f0ccLKMc_ikVbOBd5WWm-GcgFgcOuDTGzevqFgzjSXA" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="645" data-original-width="970" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEglR-sOqBEt-tgCjeCwZ1xLMiKjRn2SxprOp54paBU2V1zClcTDvFuuKG4hTxmd0Fh5UxIlBwdPThKmaD9yz6lP8xyP6fWeTmBZnwveeLF36njJCLS4cTTkudFSr3pj6-1fmjy7yudbbmcIXA5f0ccLKMc_ikVbOBd5WWm-GcgFgcOuDTGzevqFgzjSXA" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 18pt; font-weight: 700; white-space: pre-wrap;">Melbourne Recital Centre</span><p></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-46362c2d-7fff-4e5a-a627-379f58b33032"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><br /></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Walking into the timber interior of the Melbourne Recital Centre, it’s immediately apparent that Martha Marlow boasts a wider demographic fanbase than any other 2021 Australian Music Prize nominee. The Sydney-based singer-songwriter’s album </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Medicine Man</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, most of which she plays this evening, is a curiously timeless release, and its lush evocation of seventies-era orchestral folk-pop has found appreciative listeners among entwined young couples and, it would seem, people who bought orchestral folk pop records in the 1970s.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tonight’s opening act, a man in his early 40s, walks on stage, picks up a microphone and immediately begins talking about the influence of Camus on his next album, </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">All Of Us</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. “This first song is called </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A Collective Destiny,” </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">he says, placing the microphone carefully on the top of a Steinway grand piano and taking a seat before it. Speaking on behalf of an audience largely unaware that there would be any support act, a woman shouts, “who are you?” It turns out the man about to bedazzle us with minimalist classical piano for the next thirty minutes, is </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Luke Howard</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. Rocking slowly back and forth on the edge of a piano stool, Howard peels out arpeggios and rolling chords in a way that evokes movement in nature, a subtly shifting view from a window and other imagery that likely varies between listeners. It’s beguiling stuff that is already leavening Spotify playlists with names like ‘Rainy Afternoon’ and ‘Chill Piano’ and should rightfully be all over a very successful film soundtrack sometime soon.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Keeping the idea of refinement and precision foremost in the mind of the audience, Marlow’s 17-piece orchestra took their places, then her band, all of whom appeared on her album. The next person to grace the stage is iconic composer and conductor Nigel Westlake. Bowing and accepting the applause appropriate for the man who scored the film </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Babe</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, Westlake then welcomes </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-weight: 700; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Martha Marlow</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, who is being led by her father, the double bassist and arranger Jonathan Zwartz, to its centre. Resplendent in a white silk dress, she sits on a stool, keeping one foot on the floor, and puts on glasses on to read lyrics from a music stand.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’d like to begin the show with the first song from my album </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Medicine Man</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">,” Marlow intones evenly in a voice that is part ASMR hypnotist, part shipping news broadcaster. Most songs are introduced with a reading of a specific poem that influenced or inspired it. The first, </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">All My Days</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, is preceded by a reading of Mary Oliver’s </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I Go Down to the Shore</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and further contextualised by Marlow sharing a story about walking to the beach near her house and how the soul-stirring sight of apricot sunsets over rolling waves inspired the song. Many of these poetry readings meet with equally earnest murmurs of appreciation in the audience and it is quietly astonishing, in 2022, to see a performer so earnestly in love with beauty and so passionate about sharing it without a shred of naivety or irony. And then comes the music.</span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Perhaps it is due to recent years spent listening to digital reconstructions of acoustic or electronic recordings, but the impact of hearing an orchestra and a band performing is almost shocking. With so much attention paid to the writing, arrangement, performance and the live sound, other music seems temporarily weaker. The sincerity with which Marlow writes and sings is similarly remarkable. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I called the album </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Medicine Man</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> because I haven’t been very well, I’m not very well,” she explains by way of introducing the title track, a highlight of the show. “This album is very much an insight into my inner world I take refuge in.” Marlow suffers from an autoimmune disorder that fluctuates in its expression. Tonight it means she is unable to play guitar, but her condition never seems to be a source of weakness. Instead, it seems to charge each action with intent and purpose. </span></p><br /><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Moving through the album, songs are rendered with a rich fidelity to their recording. Violins shimmer in unison, guitars blend together with a fulsome warmth that anchors her voice in their midst. Unaffected, breathy and floating, plain and striking, it’s a sound that is all the more powerful for not being showy, sinking into the arrangements as another instrument. Songs such as </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rain Man </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(introduced with a reading of TS Eliot’s </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rhapsody on a Windy Night</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">) and </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">River Runs Red</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> (inspired by Chinua Achebe’s novel </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Things Fall Apart</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">) are rife with imagery and sentiments that speak to nurture and support rather than assertions or declarations. They don’t need copious vibrato or to be separated from the song either in the writing, recording or performance to find their strength. It’s a privilege to be able to see them in a venue that allows their detail to be writ large. Closing with the closest thing she has to an upbeat radio hit </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I Don’t Want to Grow Up</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, the revelatory </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Now I Have You, </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">What All the Fuss is About</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, a song</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">from a forthcoming “novel in song” called </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Notes From Malcolm Harvey</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, Marlow seems gloriously at home. Though the latter has a chorus against which the estate of Nick Drake could mount a strong case for plagiarism, the sheer grandeur of her vision, and its realisation, is intoxicating. Marlow leaves the stage to applause, and returns when the song has finished to a standing ovation. To have created a show like this from a debut album suggests there will be many more to come.</span></p><div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>Andy Hazelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15244635915893523784noreply@blogger.com0