CD Review: INNER SPACE SOUNDTRACK- SVEN LIBAEK (Votary)

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

This is the first release for brand new Melbourne label Votary, who have charged themselves with the noble and frankly, exciting, job of re-releasing old Australian soundtracks, on both CD and vinyl. Long out of print, this soundtrack was recorded and released in 1973 to score a 10-part underwater documentary series entitled Inner Space, and, thanks to fan Noah Taylor's badgering of film director Wes Anderson, several pieces turned up in the film The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou. Now deservedly garnering closer attention, and not just for the top shelf jazz players whose unrepeatable solos and warm atmospheres lace the laser etchings within, but being the tip of the iceberg of obscure Australian music of the 60s and 70s. Those looking for obscure beats and breaks (I'm betting The Avalanches will be paying close attention) would find much here, as would anyone inclined toward sunshiny aquatic exotica and Brazilian-style jazz funk. Lovingly packaged, Inner Space should hopefully be the first cab off the rank for Votary who have done a superlative job in reflecting the authenticity of the music they're reissuing. Sven Libaek is still known in certain circles as "The Master of The Modal", and tracks like the bossa-nova of Dark World with it's tremulous vibraphone, the frankly mad Moog, wah-wah guitar and trumpet play-offs of Midget Monsters, and the sinister funk of Music For Eels highlight his penchant for minimalist mood-making, and how different modern soundtracking has become. Not just because of the wood-panelled production and inspired instrumental choice, or that for a 10-part ABC TV series you could get such a prestigious composer and give them free reign to make such fantastic music, but for the choices Libaek made in tone and instrument. Evoking the sea's moods in soundbites several minutes long is a great achievement, making it sound so of it's time is another. Perfect for aquariums. A classy release.

Live Review: WICKED BEAT SOUND SYSTEM, MUSIC Vs. PHYSICS

Tuesday, April 24, 2007 

Northcote Social Club


"Well I'm glad we got you folk away from Bring It On," says Music Versus Physics (MvP) singer 3rd Deck part-way into their set, and it's a good thing people did switch off and get down, as MvP put a sharp set together to support Wicked Beats' CD launch tonight.

The segue from smooth dub and dancehall DJed before the show into the Bristol-via-3070 vibe of MvP set was seamless. The sheer diversity of their digitized sonic palette tends to dilute the overall impact. This dabbling in everything means they convince in nothing and renders their tough lyrics a bit half-wood. However rapping is just another string to their bow, like Bollywood sampling, sine-wave scratching; the Latyrx-flavoured Human Pride and gospel-vibed The Devil Isn't Welcome In My House  showcases how great the band can be. Ironically, MvP sound most natural and strong on the one cover they play, Hush-A-Bye, which, with it's flowing banjo sample and down-home melody, makes Beatrix look so at home that her subsequent rapping seems forced. Overall though, a tight and crowd-pleasing set.

By the time Wicked Beat Sound System arrive the place resembles a stage at Woodford with dreads and dresses and the feel of a hundred friends comfortably chatting, and no one seems bothered by the blatent misadvertising given the lack of wicked beats or a sound system. The onstage production though is brilliant, as is the tightness of the band who are essentially recreating the studio recordings live, with bassist Cameron Undy's slabs of underwater detonations proving an essential connection to the crowd. Wicked Beats are more 4WD-on-the-Great-Ocean-Road fun than sticky-ceiling dark dub urbanity, and it's this lightness of touch that works against them tonight (and possibly for them back home in Sydney). Launching their smoother and funkier Hydromajestik CD ("Whatever that means!" laughs singer Linda Jannsen) the band seem comfortable and not at all like they've had a 2-year break from playing live. When dynamics are brought to the fore, the songs really take off, especially the Badu-esque Won't Let Go which could easily be a hit in more famous hands and the well-funky It Doesn't Matter. By the time of the ace encore I Don't Want To Know and Rocksteady, The Curse of the D is broken and people move forward to dance by the stage, ending the show with warmth and smiles; what the punters brought and Wicked Beat celebrated. Nice one.

CD Review: TIMBALAND PRESENTS SHOCK VALUE - TIMBALAND (Interscope)

Saturday, April 21, 2007 

Timbaland, what a fascinating cat he is. Always kicking alongside of the other big name hip-hop producers (Premier, RZA, Neptunes) and never afraid to bring in African drums, Indian melodies and exciting new sounds (making him a natural choice for Bjork when she was considering collaborators for her forthcoming Volta album) to the canvas of hip-hop, you can never say he plays it safe. Even here, at 19 tracks in length, Shock Value is brave and full of itself, at times justified, at times flatulent and pointless, but never scared to push somewhere new sonically. It's lyrically that the album is severely lacking in what it says on the box.

With an eyebrow-raising roster of guests (Missy Elliot, Elton John, She Wants Revenge, Fall Out Boy, JT and Dr. Dre to name a few), Timbaland clearly has clout, and what he puts behind these guests could be remixed to death and still cause booty shaking, head nodding and theme O-week freakouts, but anyone who uses Hives singer Pelle Almqvist as a backing vocalist is clearly stoopid or genius. There are a few moments when Timbaland is kicking just fine and these songs will fulfil the quota of singles he has to deliver (Release featuring JT is classy, and Missy Elliot and Dr. Dre's Bounce isn't but works as a sleazy, oversexed club track), and keep his rep intact, but the hip-hop demon "inability to self-edit" is woven through this album. Closing track where he hassles Elton John out is pointless and boring, the Fall Out Boy collaboration probably looked great in the record company office but is one ginormous wank on CD, and The Hives' track is a pale shadow of what should have happened. There is a lot that will sound samey to people who aren't hip-hop heads; masses of sex, money, ridin' in trucks and guns, but seeing this as a given, Timbaland does keep the beats fresh. Some fresh intentions would go a long way too however. "Go on kill yourself, kill yourself, kill yourself, if I was you I wouldn't feel myself" I guess that's new. Some new names like singer Keri Hilson featured on both Scream and Miscommunication and Money's vocals on Fantasy are smooth, while the track Bombay is ace as it is largely left alone by the MCs but these are isolated cases. Maybe he can redeem himself on Volta?

CD Review: LONEY, NOIR - LONEY, DEAR (Sub Pop)

Saturday, April 21, 2007 

Brilliant melodies seem as Swedish as Ikea (The Cardigans, ABBA, I'm From Barcelona, The Wannadies, Roxette, Peter Bjorn and John, perfect examples), and this album marks yet another chapter in the lexicon of Scandinavian melodic pop perfection. As fragile and twee as Ikea is, Loney, Dear are essentially a one-man (Emil Svanängen's) band, and this album marks his first release outside of Sweden where he has released several albums including this one, in 2005. Loney, Noir is a variously thrilling, gentle, pastoral, intimate and, at times, gloriously uplifting, though never raising the volume beyond a Nick Drake coo. Opening track, single, and highlight I Am John begins with gentle strumming and earnest vocals, lulling you in with a music box-like delivery before gradually layering the insistent melodies with wafting horns, stumbling drums, sparkling xylophone and climactic falsetto harmonies. It's intoxicating stuff and is begging a US indie film to soundtrack a "boy runs through the rain to his heartbroken lover" scene to it. Much of the rest of the album wallows in adolescent love, sensory indulgence and a relentless sense of hope which it justifies by the sheer understated charm and nagging insistence of the melodies. Carrying A Stone and I Won't Cause Anything At All are gorgeous works, the natural imagery melding perfectly with his paeans to longing and transcendence. The home recording production adds to the sense of intimacy tightly and that smothering-blanket warmth suits the lyrics which maintain a direct appeal even when the instrumentation becomes a soaring wall that approaches an acoustic Sigur Ros in proportion at times. The truth is though, as appealing as a handsome Swedish man cooing songs of hope and warm devotion to you is, it is a welcome that can be outstayed. As beautiful as those Scandinavian summers are, and as striking as their residents are, those days are damn long and it is possible to have too much of a good thing. A very good thing.

CD Review: THE SOUND OF SILVER - LCD SOUNDSYSTEM (DFA Records)

Saturday, April 21, 2007 

Before it's release even, this album was being touted as the pinnacle of whatever this punk/funk-indie/electro phase popular music seems to be going through now is. The chart-troubling face of New York cool, James Murphy AKA LCD Soundsystem, is a dance music producer who insists on using 'real' instruments and is likely still best known for the OC-featured Daft Punk Is Playing At My House, a track which injected a bit of po-faced jollity to the normally Greenlandic levels of coolness that typify this echelon of music. The Sound Of Silver features that coolness (Us And Them), that humour (single North American Scum and wistfully odd closer New York, I Love You But You're Bringing Me Down), and, most importantly, a near perfect balance of song-writing nous and clinical beats (All My Friends, Get Innocuous). All My Friends in particular is part Phillip Glass, part New Order and surprisingly moving for someone who until now, you could confidently rely on to simply be ironic, irresistably bang a cowbell over squelchy beats and get a big remixing cheque.

The well-written songs of the the 80s and 90s (e.g, those by New Order, Pet Shop Boys, Massive Attack, EBTG, Bjork etc.) that just happen to have killer beats, great production and imprint a personality over technical precision are the ones that tend to age better than the "gonna make you sweat" school of anonymous girl wailing over European techno-boffin, and LCD Soundsystem is well in the former league. Those into The Rapture, !!! and anything else that has passed through Murphy's DFA label (i.e: anyone who's enjoyed dancing in the last 5 years to anything not retro or trance) can confidently get this record knowing it to be a cost-effective heating alternative this winter: not dancing is not an option. To be fair though, there is a slight lack of variation with sounds used and Murphy's voice is more white-Prince/American Mark E Smith street-cool than musical, though this does make you focus on the lyrics and rhythms more, which, thanks to his Hannett-like urbane production, is a very good thing. Perfectly named and perfectly timed, The Sound Of Silver is likely to be getting a flogging on certain yoof networks and deservedly so.

CD Review: DEERHUNTER - FLUORESCENT GREY EP (Kranky)

Saturday, April 21, 2007 
 "I woke in the middle of the night / I called out / I called your name / patiently, patiently..." so begins the opening, slow-burning monster that is the title track. Echoing Stereolab, Spacemen 3 and Animal Collective, particularly with their non-alienating and overt use of effects, and with garage-rock guitars, wired yet suggestive vocals, Deerhunter return to form with this killer batch of five tracks. Made while working on their alternately harrowing and euphoric Cryptograms (Kranky, 2007) album, this EP works as a sort of tighter, less-edgy sampler, pushing variously their shoegazing (Like New) vibe, their Krautrock (Wash Off) penchant and their tendency for slow-building restrained melody (Fluorescent Grey). Apparently ferocious live, Deerhunter have an authenticity that is lacking in most bands that choose to pick up guitars and make noise in a way that suggests anything pre-Velvet Underground and Nico doesn't bare investigation. Where they excel is in making atmosphere and not letting it linger. Every song is pursued and expanded with a surety that holds evidence of their chequered history; innumerable line-up changes, the death of their bassist in a skateboarding accident, label changes, singer Bradford Cox's daily panic attacks, bankruptcy. One look at their gaunt faces and you can see they're closer to Fugazi than BRMC though can rock out as loud as both. Most fans would likely say go straight to Cryptograms, but this EP stands strongly by itself, the sense of catharsis never being a chore or alienating, their keen sense of melody and dynamics and love of the robotic to the fore. Cox's lyrics tie in so well with the music - white hot and visceral - that it sets them further apart again from the legion of bands intent on taking you on a journey through their searing, determined minds. It's a triumph, one that's brief in length, but not scope.

Melbourne Comedy Festival Review: ANDREW MCLELLAND'S SOMEWHAT AMBITIOUS SOLUTION FOR MAKING THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE (IN GENERAL)

Tuesday, April 17, 2007
 

To begin with, McLelland explains that this show is an exercise in his inability to live up to the formidable title. But he's wrong, because the solution IS the show! Yay! Once the indie-pop fades, McLelland soon launches into playing his various selves that have appeared at his last several shows. These include his scheming old man, happy South American, overzealous middle-class fop and various other hilariously-accented roles that allow him to do what he does best (besides excitable arm gestures from the elbow down with a happy face). Somewhat Ambitious... does depend alot on whether you like these roles of his, and, if you're like tonight's audience, you like them immensely, and they do work really well at being trademark funny while illuminating his stories. More personal, less structured and less formal than his other previous (and brilliant) shows, Somewhat Ambitious... doesn't so much aim to educate via spleen-rupturing hilarity as some may have come to expect, more take you through a potted narrative of personal experience and major global issues. It's the uniting of these subjects that makes the show something really special and reinforces McLelland as an unjustly overlooked comedian. This show stays with you after it finishes, both for it's humour and the issues raised, even if some of the solutions are simply funny, and not as transcendent as hoped. When McLelland gets on a rant (which fortunately happens fairly often tonight) it's hard to blink or look away. Fully-formed concepts and priceless allusions fly by as he thunders to the end of one superbly argued rant after another making you are thoroughly glad that this man is fitting himself out as a self-styled gelatocrat. All this and the only man to win on both Rockwiz and Spicks And Specks! Yes, the world is a better place now.

Melbourne Comedy Festival review: JOSIE LONG - KINDNESS AND EXUBERANCE

Saturday, April 14, 2007 

Town Hall

Without a doubt - and within the opening minutes - this show becomes the pick of the festival. A virtual unknown and unlike pretty much any other comedian/ne I've seen (though occasionally Andrew McLelland sprung cheerily to mind) Long, via free homemade badges, a hilarious DIY zine and request for the audience to write down their "favourite really small thing" seemingly wins everyone over before even opening her mouth.

Regaling us with everything from bitchin' haikus and mimed samurai battles to Venn diagrams involving mushrooms on toast all delivered through her warm Kentish tones, her many and varied favourite things soon became ours. There is something irresistible about watching people get passionate about stuff, kids, old guys on buses, it's all good. Long however, not only does this in a completely hilarious way - often via multimedia, but has a welcome darker edge to the comedy too, and the timing of the darker stuff works brilliantly. Though much of her material is Brit-centric, when some references fly by, her expressions, overwhelming positivity and rapid-fire speed of her material still has you slapping your legs crimson. You can feel a fierce confidence and intellect behind the disarmingly winsome grinsome nature of her jokes, but this never manifests in arrogance. Long has an ability to speak to the audience as one and this is Uno-referencing celiac gains trust faster than most established comedians could dream of. With as many tangents as Ross Nobel, Long takes you from one incongruous passion to the next in an almost surreal trajectory that her comic brilliance ties together after the laughs from sheer randomness have finished. Ever inventive and spectacularly original Josie Long is a surefire bet in a world of uncertainty. With passion like this, she - and you - can't lose.

Melbourne Comedy Festival review: CORINNE GRANT - HAVE MY STUFF

Saturday, April 14, 2007 

Cheerily meeting patrons at the door, Grant's genuine warmth never leaves her throughout the show. Most will know her from The Glasshouse and her improvisational skills there worked wonders; disarmingly friendly yet able to pull off fantastically acerbic wit - essentially, a fantastic dinner party guest. Have My Stuff however sees Grant addressing her own history, foibles, making cultural commentary and bonding with the audience at every opportunity. These opportunities come thick and fast given her subject matter; hoarding, politics, and the politics of hoarding, and work well. Never aiming for pant-wetting levels of hilarity, Grant is more concerned with connecting with her audience while getting them to laugh at themselves; "Because I really like attention and I thought this would be a good way of getting it", she states as her reason for doing stand up. What she does with our attention is take us through a well-crafted and engaging confessional. Her cultural targets and jokes are soft and pat like butter, though getting all Quantock on us (like you know she could if she wanted to) would have been a spike in the vibe, and Grant prefers to keep it chatty rather than caustic (there, she warns "adult themes" however).

Her distinctive mannerisms, spontaneity and skill at enticing confessions from a willing crowd are unexpectedly endearing and wholly effective. Drawing in several tenuous personal and political threads (which aren't quite as effective on their own but give the show greater depth than expected), does allow Grant to bring out her Glasshouse side, but with no foil, there is little opportunity for those pithy improvised observations she's so good at doing. Still, after being in her company for an hour, there is no faulting that warm glow. And hey, who doesn't love free stuff?

Melbourne Comedy Festival review:: WHO NEEDS A VAGINA ANYWAY...

Monday, April 09, 2007 

Glitch Bar

Tonight the audience's will to see Dean Arcuri succeed in his journey "to get in touch with his femine side" is almost tangible (indeed the audience are responsible for many of the bigger laughs), but with no perceptible narrative to hang on to, a woeful lack of rehearsal and a huge reliance on the assumption that a drunk man in a sequin dress is hilarious, we are left wanting.

Arcuri does, when he loosens up, have an impressive voice, and his lyrics can be hilarious, but this can't detract from the fact that the show is full of sequences that just don't work. To begin with, there is virtually no story; the man has been dumped and is experiencing a sort of alcohol-fuelled crisis, and that is pretty much it - which would be fine were it done with a shred of originality or flair. No attempt is made to draw us in to his plight, and tangents involving his accompanying musicians take up much of the show time (tenor sax player Stefan is a noteably impressive foil, and pianist Anastacia a solid support), while the heavy reliance on audience participation makes you feel if the audience don't go along with Arcuri, he's shafted.

However the show does begin to work with the closing number, which, while not quite able to leave you with a warm feeling towards it, does show what Arcuri and his exuberent confidence is capable of and that is, probably going far. Treating this show as a tentative first step to self-produced cabaret, it's patchy at best. Those who find Fat Pizza funny may dig this, just lay aside any pedestal you may have put Nina Simone on, and be prepared to accept that Dino's ex-girlfriend wore an 80s blue sequined dress, used potpurri and doilies and dated a gay jazz singer. It's early days.

Live Review: BEST OF V FESTIVAL: PET SHOP BOYS, GROOVE ARMADA, GNARLS BARKLEY, THE RAPTURE

Monday, April 09, 2007 

Sidney Myer Music Bowl

The "dance music" themed day of the Festival seems to be slightly less popular (giving us more room to dance), but right from the word go, the quality is apparent. The Rapture played to a 10% full bowl in lingering daylight with several dozen fans clamouring at the front fruitlessly exhorting others to get up and dance. This was no environment for any band to kick out the jams, but they did play a stylish gig that anywhere else would have torn up the place. Opening with a blistering Out Of The Races, they play many songs off their recent Pieces Of The People We Love album (most notably Woo Alright Yeah Uh Huh, The Devil and The Sound), and a curiously slow version of the typically blinding House Of Jealous Lovers. Clearly happy to be playing at all, singer and guitarist Luke Jenner gladhands fans during the closing Olio while Presets-t-shirt-sporting bassist Mattie Safer kept the bottom end rock solid and effortlessly danceable as he does all gig. A great band, pity there was no local side show.

Gnarls Barkley immediately win the crowd over by not being an electro duo but instead a 12-piece ensemble (including 4-piece string ensemble The G-Strings) bedecked in school uniforms and tartan. By the time Cee-Lo takes the stage to a segue of Another Brick In The Wall Part 2 and School's Out, the warm vibes are only boosted by his gospel-like approach and comments like "Can we get the lights on you? I've come a long way and I want to know who loves me and who I need to love." Of course people were hanging out for the song he introduces as:"An instant classic and there reason I am rich and famous and here." (which does indeed rock in the way you hope it would) but before Crazy we are given St Elsewhere, Gone Daddy Gone and The Boogie Monster all in blazing, bombastic fashion that is hard to resist. Cee-Lo's voice seems tired and he doesn't hold notes for long, but his exuberance (particularly an entertaining battle with a mic stand) more than makes up for vocal fatigue; "I'm 300 pounds, are YOU tired?"

Exuberance is something that could help Groove Armada make their coffee-table funk (interspersed with an attempt at coffee-table dancehall) memorable. For reasons best known to themselves, they rely alot on sampled vocals and guitar - despite having a virtually redundant guitarist and two fine vocalists. This undercuts what should be a barnstorming I See You Baby and lovely At The River and My Friend but instead mildly diverting visuals spice up a stagnant band playing limp funk with very predictable drum rolls leading into very predictable basslines. Nice trombone though.

The Pet Shop Boys. 26 years on and they're still an impossibly perfect marriage of Noel Coward and Kraftwerk. Featuring a brilliant use of visuals, breakdancers who regularly venture into interpretive dance, enough costume changes to keep Elton John on his toes (gold lame cowboy outfits, neon jackets, dapper suits etc.), comes gem after gem of pop genius. Left To My Own Devices, Suburbia, Can You Forgive Her open, and we're won. Songs from last year's Fundamental album (Minimal, Integral and The Sodom and Gomorrah Show) stand up well, but the crowd want the favourites; Heart, Always On My Mind, Domino Dancing, West End Girls, It's A Sin and the closer (on the non-camp chapter of their career as well as tonight's show) Go West elicit huge cheers. Few decent 80s bands age this well, and, watching the slow-motion black and white montage of crowd footage during Chris Lowe's solo Paninaro it struck just how graceful and warm they can be, unlike so many other bands from their era. Neil's voice has lost some resonance and character since their heyday, but he seems to be having more fun than ever. This was a triumph; a lesson of aging gracefully while putting on a show that has Christmas panto-camp, political allusions and a dancing top hat bound in one.

Live Review: BONNIE RAITT, MIA DYSON

Monday, April 09, 2007 

Hamer Hall

Few gigs can have had such an appropriate support act as tonight's show. The raw howling jumped-up blues of Mia Dyson and her band are the Australian equivalent to an early Raitt gig, visceral, edgy, warm, oozing integrity and as down home as any fan could want. Though her delivery makes The Best Of James Reyne sound like an elocution lesson, the feeling is there, and that - along with the warm affection with which she treats the crowd and her hero, tonight's headliner - is what translates. Playing several unnamed new songs, there seems to be no great shift from her Etheridge-fronts-Little Feat earlier work, and the whole set goes down very well, with I Meant Something To You Once being a clear high point, as is her glorious lap steel playing.

The mostly middle-aged audience (some with families) who filled the Hamer Hall are loudly appreciative of Raitt from the moment her name is announced by her pianist, co-vocalist and sometime-percussionist Jon Cleary. Instantly warming to the crowd with the same authenticity, sense of humour and quiet confidence found in her songs, and increasingly rare to find in any artist, Raitt wastes no time in doing what she does best. Working her battered Strat (AKA "the right wood for the job") and crooning her impeccable blues-rock she kicks off with a rollicking Sure Do. She soon begins dedicating songs, God Was On The Water for those in New Orleans and the Soloman Islands, Matters Of The Heart for "One of the greatest soul singers ever, regardless of colour, race, creed or nationality, Renee Geyer!" and All At Once to her recently deceased parents. Her guitar playing is incredibly proficient, tone and sustain impeccable, and her versitility between slide, lead and acoustic is so smooth. Her touring band is unaltered since her last trip ("if it ain't broke don't fix it") but many songs are new, from 2005's covers album Souls Alike. If there is anything Raitt can do as well as she plays guitar and sings (and that is VERY WELL) it's pick songs. Tonight's version of John Prine's Angel From Montgomery is truly breathtaking, as is I Can't Make You Love Me (the 8th best song of all time according to Mojo) and it's testament to her songwriting that hers sit so well amongst these; All At Once particularly. Also going down well this evening is the warm effusive wit she brings to everything; repartee amongst the band, Australian slang and jet lag come in for a ribbing tonight, so when she encores with a "nightclub session" no one gets uneasy. After showcasing another up and coming songwriter (Mia Sharpe) Renee Geyer is brought out of the audience and duets on an unrehearsed number before a visibly nervous Mia Dyson makes a dream come true with an equally unrehearsed Junior Walker cover Roadrunner and Bad Case Of Loving You. It was all in all a hugely entertaining evening; you know what you're getting with Bonnie Raitt, and after nearly 40 years in the game, she still loves surprising.

Melbourne Comedy Festival Review: BENN BENNETT - IN A BALTIC STATE

Monday, April 09, 2007 

The Butterfly Club

Tonight, an iconic and twinkling Butterfly Club is packed. It's a perfectly selected venue, providing an intimacy that serves the warmth of Bennett's delivery and nature of his material; part-lecture, part-holiday story, and part-low brow musical, very well. Bennett's show is held together by his love of his subject matter and wonderfully selfless delivery which allows him to slip between a multitude of musically-linked characters. Seeing comedians use shows as extensions of personal obsessions (in Bennett's case, Eastern Europe and character-driven cabaret) makes for a warmer, more entertaining and more engaging show than those relying on a rapid succession of cultural stereotypes and dick jokes. In this case more than true; it's as if Vivian Stanshall and Neil Innes were showing you their holiday slides.

Songs like the foot-stomping Cinderella's Booties, the Eno-esque Tallulah Bankhead, a frankly outsider version of Jailhouse Rock, his Croatian version of Tomorrow from the musical Annie - Sutra, and his version of Kate Bush's Babooshka all stand out and show an inspired use of his Roland Fantom X7 keyboard and a willingness to draw on various styles, languages and accents to enhance his story. Baron-Cohen could never be this warm. The quality of Bennett's songs and their settings - which add another dimension to their humour, really set him apart from other musical comedians. His eye for detail when describing scenes often broaches poignancy, but the belly-laughs come fast and from a variety of sources that there is no danger of slipping from sublimely sanguine cabaret. Though a fresh and very expressive face on the scene, atypical subject matter, incongruous pop culture references and a tight narrative connection make him an oddly effective performer, something the crowd heartily agree with tonight. La Toya Jackson would be humbled to be incorporated into this show. Inspired. Na zdorovje!

Live Review: THE PIXIES, THE PANICS

Tuesday, April 03, 2007 

The Palace

Closing your eyes during this gig is like entering a time warp. A time warp you thought as likely to ever appear and open as the discovery of a black hole you could surf into. The sounds, the riffs, the spot on rhythm and tonal replications are faultless, the songs so familiar it's like music that has gone round and round in your head bursting into life on stage. Opening them however, it's like some parents of the 30-somethings who make up most of those around you, have taken the stage in one gigantic successfully-avoided embarassment; Frank Black like a bouncer who got up and started battering out Pixies' covers really really well, Kim Deal a chain-smoking soccer mom with an unnervingly permanent smile, Joey Santiago looking oddly like an indie-rock Ming The Merciless; incidentally-exuded coolness pushing sweat to the end of his merciless little beard, and Dave Lovering every inch the Scientific Phenomenolist he now is; Oldham-like in appearance and flailing away as if conducting the best experiment ever.

But to the beginning. The Panics were fine. Top tunes, a tough gig without a doubt, but handled like professionals. A bit Drones-lite, and many lyrics lost, but enough heads nodded to not make this another "what is this Melbourne band doing supporting this totally dissimilar international band?" support.

Crows of elation came from those in the front rows once they eyeballed (and photographed and filmed) the setlists as they were taped down. We were without a doubt, about to have dreams come true. Doubts still lingered though....could Frank still hit the high notes? Could Kim hold it together for a gig without chemical assistance? Would the mecurical energy that coursed through their early records still be here 20 years on?
Moments later it was as if everyone in The Palace had just hit a collective ecstasy high and the four 40-year-olds set about bringing legend to life. Kim's cooing In Heaven was almost too apt an opener, the pared down UK-Surf version of Wave Of Mutilation followed and many were hoping this general gentleness wouldn't define the gig. An explosion of Bone Machine blasted that theory straight down and soon enough U-Mass, Monkey Gone To Heaven, Head On, Gouge Away and classics that make so many love this band pour forth.

On the one hand this was one of the more perfunctory gigs ever played in Melbourne - stage banter is non-existant besides the odd stoned salutation from Kim Deal - they could be playing anywhere to anyone. On the other, the monumental "pinch me I must be dreaming" feeling never quite leaves the squashed smiling masses and clearly note-perfect renditions of classics are what people want, and get.
It is this shared buoyancy that thrilled through the queuing hopefuls and now through those who made it in, that means many are too busy documenting the event or concerned about the welfare of their digital camera or phone to actually cut loose, certainly not many are regular gig-goers. This unwillingness to express the obvious joy many must be feeling doesn't prevent some solid moshpit action though, particularly for Planet Of Sound, No. 13 Baby, Crackity Jones, Something Against You, Debaser, Tame and most of the Come On Pilgrim EP. Joey Santiago conducting his guitar with a well-flung drumstick and guitar-lead solo through Vamos is a highlight, as is Dave Lovering's head generally. Frank barely cracks a smile, something Kim more than makes up for amidst clouds of smoke; their subtle communication - poetry, particularly if you knew of their history. If they were part of your history - and they probably are, the whole night was poetry. The house lights revealing the stumbling sweaty masses barely being able to talk for smiling was proof of that.

Live Review: RAND AND HOLLAND, THE CRAYON FIELDS, GRAND SALVO, PIKELET

Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Northcote Social Club

Pikelet is without a doubt one of the most interesting and unique performers this city can boast. Quietly building a loyal fanbase through relentless gigging - seemingly opening for around 40% of Melbourne's bands at one time or other, giving interviews redolent of quiet confidence and complete unpretentiousness, and with a CD on the way, this could easily be the year she goes above-ground. Tonight's show is a quiet one to a sparsely populated and predominently prostrate No So, but her plaintive honesty, gorgeous melodies, striking voice and new haircut only convert.

Even with most mishaps imaginable happening during their set tonight, Grand Salvo could still barely hold the attention of those present. Epitomising all that is predictable about folk music; fruity arch lyrics, obvious chord changes, a lack of dynamics, tired chord progressions, overt earnestness and no sense of humour, their gig is nevertheless, entertaining. Firstly, the stereo playing in the No So's kitchen begins drowning out the beginning of a song so the gig stops until that is turned down. Then the introduction of the double-bassist turns into a minor farce and Mr Salvo himself (AKA Paddy Mann) begins forgetting words and rushes song endings. That he didn't raise a smile during any of this only increased hilarity. The entire set was redeemed though by a new song, tentatively-entitled Hunter's Remorse which had really interesting chords, arresting lyrics and was affecting in it's unreleased tension and surprising brevity.

The Crayon Fields play a wonderful set. Every song from last year's excellent Animal Bells LP is played twice as fast as recorded but that's probably for the better. The sound is much stronger and edgier than the CD would suggest and Geoff O'Connor is on fine form, his warm Rickenbacker 12-string offsetting the busy drumming from fantastic new addition Raquel Solier. Choir Of Tiny Boys, Would It Be So Strange? and closer Lovely Time are all heavenly pop highlights.

With fragile guitars held together by gaffa tape, Rand And Holland (with the addition of pals Leah and Emma on bass and drums respectively) build songs of similar acoustic fragility. Moments such was when the drums enter the opening song The Light off their new Caravans CD, you know you're on quality street. She's changed the colour of her hair / I'll be lost for days / Thinking of what to wear / And what not to say. The feeling of sleepiness never really leaves this gig - people are still lying on the floor by the end, but that serves the songs just fine. Occasionally things drag (particularly a long meander entitled The War) but Rand And Holland are a perfect example of dynamite songwriting and performing that will likely - and undeservedly - slip beneath most radars. Gorgeous songs such as Beanstalk and are worthy of a broader audience - at least an appearance on a TV drama. Until then, a gig or CD of theirs is highly recommended.

Live Review: ALEKS AND THE RAMPS, BECAUSE OF GHOSTS, PLASTIC PALACE ALICE, FLYING SCRIBBLE

Tuesday, April 03, 2007 

The Spanish Club

The effect a venue's acoustics, and how much respect we should give to venues that take care of this aspect of promoting live music, was brought into sharp focus tonight. Every act suffered immeasurably (as have bands who played here in the past, most notably The Crayon Field's at their CD launch) by the stark sound. Even when three-quarters full, lyrics and melodies are still indiscernible, and this was no fault of the mixer.
Dynamite opening duo Flying Scribble suffer least in this regard as the wonderful dynamic between drummer/vocalist Gray and organ/bass pedal/operatic-vocal-amazement-factor Louise kept things sonically pretty simple, though the multitasking abilities of these girls is far from that. Alternately playful, profound, and a bit krautrock, Flying Scribble seem to be doubling their fanbase with each gig, which you would guess happens tonight. Opener Anyway is a great introduction, Concrete Peak rocks, one introduced as Our Disco Song, and the sprawling Animation Song are both great, though their talent is what really amazes and my guess is that their best is yet to come.

The very handsome Plastic Palace Alice suffer from acoustic problems more than any other act tonight given their mid-heavy sound, leading to alot of people chatting through their set. What is hard to ignore though is the addition of new guitarist Huw Murdoch, who was spot on with his lead breaks and really shone tonight. Also impressing is the worthy single Empire Falls and the only song whose sense of melodrama translates tonight (possibly due to it's emphasis on dynamics), the closing The Girl Who Cried Wolf, an example of how good Plastic Palace Alice can be.

Being a band that thrive on building and releasing tension, Because Of Ghosts are strange to see with house lights blazing and a support-band-appropriate time limit in place. This said, their tightly-reined waves of swelling guitars and mallet-heavy drumming still works, as does their footy-shirt donning Aleks And The Ramps cover which betraying their sense of humour that it must be hard to inject into a standard gig. Again though, the band provide a soundtrack to the chattering masses, a feature that lasts through the headliner's show as well.

You can be sure that an Aleks And The Ramps gig will entertain even if the music doesn't stick in your minds as much as the costumes, as was the case tonight. Beginning with a captivating surreal synchronised dance routine (toga, makeup and over-sized plastic crab claws all present), the moment the music begins so do the technical problems which sadly break the flow. Nothing however, breaks sample-triggerer Joe's will to do an aerobic impersonation of a hundred volcanoes though, and soon, like a bluegrass Pop Group on E the band begin to hit their stride. The title track of tonight's launched CD Pisces Vs Aquarius is frantic, catchy and truly exciting, as is They Recorded Everything We Said. The whole show is like watching 5 overexcited chimps in a cage; each song having so many stops and starts making it more a sequence of riffs and dynamic changes than a gig. At 12:30 the band is asked to finish soon (!) and a string section brought on for the last song are unfortunately rendered totally inaudible. It's not for lack of trying that they fall short of the thrill they're shooting for, but tonight wasn't quite there.

Live Review: ZULYA AND THE CHILDREN OF THE UNDERGROUND

Northcote Social Club

It was tables out at the No So tonight, and a reverential reception for the uncontested queen of modern Tartar folk music Miss Zulya Kamalava and her phenomenally talented Children Of The Underground. From the first beat of the opening song Leaving we are willingly transported to another realm; a scene from an Emir Kusturica film, a basement cafe in Moscow circa 1955, a circus band playing the funeral of the fallen trapeze artist, even Berlin between the wars. So consumed with the songs is Zulya that she enacts them in a mesmerising way you thought only dead singers filmed in black and white could do with any authenticity. But here, in Melbourne, it happens.

Groundbreaking in a way only non-rock Australian acts can be, Zulya and co. have achieved success overseas that only a Radio National arts show would care for, but tonight they make a compelling case for breaking outside of folk festival and ABC radio spheres.

Playing many songs of their misleadingly-downbeat entitled last album The Waltz of Loneliness, which really broke them in Europe, including glorious versions of The Leap, Love Hunter and City March it was their newer songs that truly impressed. Possibly due to the distraction that is childbirth, the new album finds songwriting duties spread amongst the band members more than before, which gives us guitarist Lucas Michailidis's gorgeously evocative Forgotten Song, accordion player Anthony Schulz's wondrous White Wind Tango, and bassist Andrew Tanner's striking The Wolf And The Moon. Not to ignore the drumming of Justin Marshall whose skill is so compelling, subtle and fluid that only the voice of Zulya could wrest back attention. Arrangements in all songs are so brilliant and individual musicianship so masterful as to send Cat Empire back to the conservatorium. It seems the Children Of The Underground have been playing together for decades, so well do they mesh, so aware of each other and so committed to the song that it seems a miracle of fate that they should have wound up on a stage together. Despite more songs being sung in English now (two tonight), Russian and sometimes Tartar is the language she uses, and thanks to her warm explanations we can gauge some semblance of intention, but really the song's meaning is for her and we are privy to her captivating journey through it. Bez Idek, an adapted Tartar nursery rhyme is a highlight of the evening and gives Tanner a chance to flaunt his considerable Jews harp skills.
Whether it's childbirth, the thrill of being back on stage after a long break or seeing them go from strength to strength with songwriting and arrangements, this warm-up to their CD launch was a truly wondrous gig to behold.

Live Review: FIONN REGAN, TOBIAS CUMMINGS, THE RISE AND DEMISE

Saturday, March 03, 2007 

Northcote Social Club

In the space of several months The Rise And Demise have gone from being an promising ramshackled troupe who competently created a warm and considered atmosphere, to being strong, very competent, and often transfixing performers. The razor-sharp live sound certainly helps, but it's the controlled flickering lead guitar, quietly surging cello, skittering free-form drums and sparkling organ lines indicate they have been honing and refining their craft. Alot more prog-sounding live than on record, TRAD sound forceful and assured as they surf another wave of skillfully built tension which explodes to chiming Rhodes release - songs are more pulled from the mix of sounds than crafted with a guitar. You could see a fantastic soundtrack coming from them in the future.

One song in, Tobias Cummings is joined by Long Way Home, and it's a great combination. Cummings' songs are straight-ahead easy-chord folk rock tunes and the fine musicianship of LWH fleshes them out well, Mr Busy (AKA Jeremy Kirk)'s drumming contributions are particularly notable. Sunny Disposition gets a rousing reception as the fine slice of songwriting it so clearly is, Too Right (both songs from current album Join The Dots) is also memorable for its aching melody and slow-burning moody swagger. Clearly a band well on their way to making the next step to national recognition.

After an interminable wait, with the appearance and aplomb of a dapper Dickensian chimney-sweep, Fionn Regan takes to the stage - all tight black clothes, skinny legs and tousled hair. Chatty, genuine and perhaps a little drunk, Regan quickly eases to the crowd who are already on his side. "This song is for people who would rather be robbed with a gun than a fountain pen," he says before kicking in to Ballad Of The Toad Eaters.

Instantly impressive is his complex and melodic guitar picking style. Neither classical nor bluegrass in technique, it exudes a sense of energy countered wonderfully by his assured voice and warm tones. The next thing that hits is the lyric, snatches and fragments of imagery that stay with you long after the song has finished; "I will be your crushed pill," or "We came across three men/They had church candles wrapped in newspaper/I bought two from them/And I lit one for you/I hope the message made it's way down the wire", and numerous references to books.

He sometimes gives the impression he's playing for drinking money at an Irish pub where Rory McLeod and Christy Moore are regulars, which is no bad thing at all, so seasoned a performer he seems. Singer Gypsy L ("I met her in the sandpit," he gleeful admits) joins for some songs, and her beautiful lilt adds much - as do her bells to The Medicine Chest. Audience member Andy almost upstages Regan with his hilarious rendition of the second verse of audience fave Put A Penny In The Slot - Regan is clearly heartened by the vocal and appreciative crowd. The gig flies by, and before you know it, after a beautiful Be Good Or Be Gone encore, and an implausibly long call for another, Regan returns for a tight version of Abacus, leaving punters in no doubt that this is one masterful songwriter and performer, and a killer night of tunes.

Live Review: JON AUER, BEN BIRCHALL

Tuesday, February 27, 2007 

Northcote Social Club


The scorching heat and subsequent downpour preceding Jon Auer's gig was a perfect prelude to a night of intimate revelations, heartening stories and fluid guitar playing. The tables and chairs were out tonight, accentuating the intimacy of Auer's performance in a wholly chicken-in-a-basket way, and bringing out the 'cabaret' side in late-notice Laura Imbruglia-replacement, Ben Birchall.

Birchall, (though he'd likely disagree) may have invented the genre emo-folk. In a totally un-Conor way, Birchall has the voice, lyrics and chords to be the sort of performer who captures imaginations and, given time and exposure, creates a decent following. Though he sounded at times like he was missing a band (which it turns out he does have; The Corrections) and was playing and singing as though his guitar was an amped-up electric, his songs, delivery and charisma were top notch and the Jake Gyllenhaal-like appearence doesn't hurt either. His low-key banter and humour fitted his songs perfectly, of which Corazon - with it's ace guitar break, the sinister Don't Do Something Stupid and a vicious cover of (What's So Funny 'Bout) Peace Love and Understanding? were highlights.

To an audience that looked as though it was full of adult Abigail Breslins, America Ferraras and their boyfriends, Jon Auer played a humble and glorious show. Giving stories behind many songs with a conversational candidness that contrasted beautifully with the measured honesty of his songs, it wasn't surprising that many of the curious left converted.
With an early warning about forthcoming "quasi-sensitive goth leanings" and an offer of free razors and a guide to nearby clawfoot bathtubs with each copy of his new CD, this was clearly not going to be a run-of-the-mill dour singer/songwriter show.
His obvious use of reverb and delay was a welcome addition, as was the audience members Sean (here christened Nigel because "it sounds more rock") and Julian Wu on drummed guitar case and keyboard respectively. Julian joined for a wonderful version of Six Feet Under, with an awesome story about it's near-inclusion on the TV show, indeed, it was these stories that illustrated the songs that were more memorable than the songs themselves, and it's not that the songs were poor - far from it. His bell-clear voice, clipped and atmospheric guitar style (most songs would involve several sensitively sung phrases followed by a heavy chop at the strings) were a distinctive and efficient way of relating his songs' message, but as an illustration of the man himself, it was hard to go past those stories.

When he disappeared off stage mid-gig and returned with a milk crate which he took to the back of the room and stood on to perform Throwaway, you knew it was a special gig from a stellar performer indeed. His rendition of another Posies song Coming Right Along was a moody Crazy Horse workout, and the serenaded encore Conversations sealed the deal that Jon Auer relates to his audience in a way others would spend lifetimes trying to achieve. An often hilarious and totally convincing show.

Live Review: VASHTI BUNYAN, NEW BUFFALO, GUY BLACKMAN

Friday, February 23, 2007 

Prince Bandroom


Couches ring the stage tonight, the only concession made to the nature of the music by a venue clearly not expecting massive drink sales. Though CERES would have been the perfect place (clearly the VERY bored-looking sound engineer wishes he were somewhere else, too) The Prince is still brought to a hush, the likes of which it has rarely seen.


Guy Blackman plays a languid, earnest set to a sparsely populated room, as if Kermit had invited us down to his lilypad. Opening with A Dark and Quiet Place, Blackman is joined by Geoff O'Connor of The Crayon Fields. Following songs see the formation of a huge superstar band; Jessica (Says) Venebles, her brother Nick, Dale from The Groundies, Mark of The Lucksmiths, Julian of Minimum Chips and Nisa of Fabulous Diamonds.


Using them to excellent effect, Blackman is clearly out to make this a gig like none before, his orchestration and their improvisations are startlingly good.


Varying from the softly spoken opening songs, as the audience and band members increase in number, so does the intensity of the performance. Gayle's strong rhythmic edge elicits the noisiest reaction, and with the closing Beach Boys' cover Cuddle Up, Blackman adds even more strings to his already well-strung bow.


New Buffalo follow, and with the impressive accompaniment of John Lee, premiers many songs off her forthcoming album, a real treat for those present. Her recently released Cheer Me Up Thank You vocal-sample-laden single is a highlight, as is a chance to hear her timeless I've Got You and You've Got Me. New songs stay in the same lullaby-melody-warm-samples-and-poignant-refrain vein that she has all-but made her own, but her air of grace and quiet confidence gives them a golden glow. The sensitive arrangements and strong lyrics help reinstate her reign as indie-pop queen with her return and return to form.


Vashti. The rapturous reception quickly becomes a reverent silence as she sits with her guitar, quietly affirms her wonder at being in Australia and introduces Hidden. If Marianne Faithful ate organic food instead of smoking and shooting smack, you may have some idea of how miraculous it is to witness this reinvention of a lost 60s legend. Song after song comprises no more than simple chords, sparse and diverse accompaniment, wonderfully affecting lyrics and her unique breathy waver riding ancient melodies, all creating a delicate and rich mood broken only by camera flashes and the odd mobile.


Seamlessly balancing work from her recent Lookaftering and classic Just Another Diamond Day albums, Vashti is so full of wonder and appreciation at her reception that it brings smiles just to watch her face. Giving over a song apiece to her accompanying musicians Gareth Dixon and Jo Mango (who surely doubles her Myspace friend numbers tonight) is a great move. Later lamenting she'll have to find a new band soon, such is their talent, both songs fit perfectly and show how comfortable yet shyly humble she is as well as giving Dixon and Mango time to shine. Written during her now-legendary caravan ride from London, Rainbow River, Where I Like To Stand and Window Over The Bay are each mediations from a different traveller upon their Skye destination, and journeys in themselves, so pure and alien in their depictions.


Encoring with a crowd-pleasing Rosehip November, Vashti, Gareth and Jo make the stage a hearth with their warm smiles and equally toasty reception, the whole night melting into a pool of goodwill and ace tunes. Lovely.