SHINING BRIGHTLY: An interview with RUBIES

Thursday, May 01, 2008 

Making the artwork for one of the biggest albums of 2007, Feist's The Reminder, as well as running her own business, Simone Rubi is clearly a talented girl. Rubi, half of electro-pop duo Rubies, is a self-described inspiration fiend. Inspirational stories and people, Rubi says are 'crucial' to her. "I meet a lot of people who are great and I'm always 'more, more, more, more inspiration'. I guess the kid in me is always looking to be in crush-land. I have like ten different crushes a day - I guess it's the inspiration thing." she confesses. Currently crashing at Feist's Parisian apartment, Rubi is finding inspiration plentiful at present, but then she has had a long interest with Europe, musical and otherwise.

"It all started when I met [Swedish pop legends] Kings Of Convenience in 2001 when I was with [indie-rock band] Call And Response. We were blown away by the way they could make such quiet music. You'd listen and say 'oh, I could hear a trumpet there' and that was their intention. They played implied music - they wouldn't just record the violin, they'd want you to hear it for yourself. That really helped my ear too, to hear the same thing but differently in a new way."

Quietly and forcefully, Scandinavian pop has been winning greater and greater fans courtesy of songs like Peter Björn and John's Young Folks, albums by The Concretes and tours from Jens Lekman. It was a scene Rubi instantly felt a bond with. "When we were there some friends said 'you should come back here and record' so we did! There is such a good vibe and a strong sense of the appreciation of songwriting there. The government has a lot of grants for musicians and songwriters - it's kind of amazing - there's nothing like that in the US, actually...it blows my mind. I like music from everywhere but I think that the music from there is gentle - not too assaulting - it comes from these geographically very beautiful places too, where people are very concrete about what they want to do and say."

Surprisingly Rubi thinks there is a strong connection between her home state and the music made in the north of Europe, an influence noticeable on the electro-pop warmth of their debut album Explode From The Centre with it's strong mix of smart, emotionally bare songwriting and dancefloor-ready beats "I think there is a mutual thing. They have this thing about Californian music and old West Coast melodies - they have a very similar sense of melody to us, and we're equally fascinated with what the other is doing." This duality is something that Rubi has noticed in herself when traveling "I'm one of those 'grass is always greener' people. I'm definitely very aware of my Californian-ness over here and when I'm in California I long to be in Europe, so much so it sort of feel like there are two versions of me."

With tracks featured on the influential Pitchfork website, remixed by Trans Am and DJ Shinichi Osawa, being Feist's guest at The Grammy Awards (who also appears on the album along with friends Devandra Banhart, members of Peter, Björn and John and Kings Of Convenience), Rubies are clearly in the ascendancy. this heady thrust into the spotlight is something her and bandmate Terri aren't letting go to their heads. "We both love growing things. Growing vegetables is a very big part of being in California - it helps with certain pace. The lifestyle we lead...yeah we're stressed and we work hard, it's nice to remember to enjoy things. With the music that we're doing, we put so much of ourselves into it, we're not trying to change the world by any means but it's something we love." Something it seems, they're getting more and more of back too.

Live Review: EELS

Thursday, May 01, 2008 

The Palais

"I know why you're all here," deadpans E. "Because I'm the son of a genius physicist. Well I'm proud to be the Julian Lennon of physics." Indeed the whole night and for a large part of his back catalogue (which gets an uneven going-over tonight), E is singing about himself. So it's fortunate that he is such an engaging character and one prone to self-deprecation regardless of his heavy history. To drive the point home, a booming bodiless voice states 'Mark Oscar Everett, this is your life," at the beginning of his set. The voice recurs throughout the night as often as he reminds us how great it is to be him, how he has the mic and does the talking not the drunken punter up the back, and the interesting story of how he came to be the way he is.

Eschewing a support band for a screening of the BBC documentary Parallel Worlds, Parallel Lives that sees E researching his late father's life, there seems few sad secrets E will keep. Hugh Everett, it turns out, was a renown yet, until recently, overlooked quantum physicist who developed the 'multiple universes' theory. Telling his story sees E wandering Princeton University talking with his father's colleagues, exploring his basement for old tapes and boxes of files belonging to his father, and visiting the Pentagon to trace the military work his father did after his theory - submitted aged 24 - fell on deaf ears. The documentary is fascinating and its emotional ramifications and ruminations could be seen to make up a lot of the ensuing set which sees 1998's cathartic Electro Shock Blues album heavily mined.

Unceremoniously striding to a stool by a mic, E takes a baby blue Danelectro and opens with Grace Kelly Blues. It seems after a piano-led It's A Motherfucker this will be a stripped back show, and once 'the band' are introduced - all one member of them - for a still-rousing Strawberry Blonde, this isn't going to stop the show from being more than satisfying, largely thanks to 'The Chet' aka multi-instrumentalist Chet Atkins III. The Chet proves himself master of bowed saw, slide guitar, guitar, drums, harmonium and xylophone, all while having a great pair of lungs. Indeed his skills are mocked by E during a mid-concert break when E reads us live reviews of some of his British shows which highlight The Chet's prowess at expense of E.

Other set highlights include a glorious My Beloved Monster, a moving In The Yard, Behind The Church, E reading his fanmail, and a foot-stomp-good I Like Birds. Twice The Chet reads from E's book which illustrates well the diverse nature of his ponderings and their enhancement by song. The section during Flyswatter when E and the Chet seamlessly swap instruments mid-song is pure gold, as are the two encores and hundreds of in-the-know fans who clamour by the stage hoping for one more moment to connect with one of the funniest and most selflessly selfish stars in the firmament.

Live Review: KAT FRANKIE, THE SPOILS

Wednesday, April 23, 2008 

Northcote Social Club Spread across the carpet like toadstools on a forest floor, the gently chattering crowd are clearly in a very positive frame of mind, comfortable in knowing what they're getting and being pretty laid back about when it arrives. It's an oddly bucolic feel - a gentle hustle around the merch desk, brisk trade at the bar, a mood capitalised on by openers The Spoils - tonight in two-piece mode. Spoils singer Sean Simmons seems to be another graduate from the Dave Graney school of tongue-in-cheek masculine showmanship with his cowboy whoops, baritone mic deep-throating vocals and exuberant strumming. The Spoils have well-written imaginatively played songs for a two piece though there really isn't anything new happening here song-wise. Between the songs however, is some of the funniest chat in aeons, like an old married couple Simmons and violinist/accordionist/singer/drone box player Bronwyn Henderson are warmly engaging and familiar. Closing song Goodnight Victoria is an endearing Pogues-ish sea shanty that leaves us primed for the voyage to Berlin. In her third trip here two years Frankie has gone from playing to a dozen clued-in and lucky punters to her band's raucus Rob Roy debut to tonight's often harrowing tour de force. Bookending her show with the Welch-esque whispers of Be The Death Of Me and The Faint-Hearted Ones she takes us to places few other singer-songwriters would dare. With her guitar buckling under her levity of subject and impassioned delivery there is nothing fake or forced here. The longer she spends in Berlin the harder the edge to her songs get, so you can almost draw a line between the gentle folk-inspired meanderings of her JJJ hit The Tops via the '0-100 in 5 seconds' reinterpretation of Everything Everything to the writhing hellish glee of set-closer Serves You Right For Using Violence. Never at any point does she have to grab our attention, but her sudden shifts in dynamic wrench us in again and again. Maybe this is necessary in a crowded European metropolis, but on a weeknight at the No So, it strays into overkill at times; seduction of the crowd isn't on Frankie's agenda. What is however, is astonishingly accomplished songwriting, no more so than on the live favourite and crowd-rousing Happy which, along with new song I Been Dangerous indicate the well is far from dry. Tonight solidifies what the audience already know, Frankie is one of the most fearless performers and songwriters we have; so fearless she had to move to Berlin.

SOCIAL EXPERIMENTAL: An interview with GREY DATURAS

Tuesday, April 15, 2008 

For seven years now Grey Daturas have been simmering away in the pages of the street press, playing countless gigs, releasing innumerable (last count 23) recordings and touring in various forms overseas, most recently, and excitingly, Japan. Unlike most bands at seven years, they are a work in progress; evolving in their own noisy way. With the release of their latest and most accomplished full-length release Return To Disruption they seem to be one of the few bands who actually embody the idea of experimentalism as meaning 'you don't know where a song is going when you're halfway through it', not simply using it as an excuse to naval gaze.

Rob Mayson, guitarist, drummer and gentle sonic behemoth is quick to point out that Return To Disruption is technologically an improvement on their previous album Dead in The Woods, both of which were recorded with Neil Thomason at his Head Gap studios. "Two-inch tape, while giving you physically more space for the sounds, is expensive, so we rented two reels and laid down our tracks. We don't have any songs; when we go into the studio we just jam - we never rehearse. When we capture something that we feel has, for lack of a better word, a vibe, we use that as a foundation for what we contribute more to through overdubs and post-production. We let this album flow in two different halves, it not about tracks, it's conceptually oriented toward vinyl." Indeed, the song that would finish each album's side ends with the tape spooling off the reel.

With this much integrity toward making music, it's a rare band that can have been held at knife-point because an audience didn't dig what they were hearing, but Grey Daturas are used to objectionable punters. "In Brisbane once, we were playing at this BBQ" elaborates Mayson, "a pair of locals came up to us with a knife and said 'if you fucken don't stop playing we're going to come and cut up your stuff. I could understand if it was Jet, but this isn't music'. It was just like fuel to us: 'Wow, what we're doing isn't as comfortable as it's become to us, it still offends people. All it is is a bunch of outer-suburban kids causing a racket. To think it can stir such anger in some people and ecstasy in others, it's great." While the band doesn't always play loud, there is a genuine openness to what they play. "In almost every city we've visited we've played shows where we stripped away the drums and played entirely electronically. We play one night after the other: drums/no drums. Stripping it back to the meditative droning, pulsating, physical music, there is no attempt to be melodic or rhythmic. That Brisbane BBQ gig...it was like 'uh uh, this isn't music this is noise pollution', they were right, it's definitely something we are very passionate about."

Grey Daturas may well be one of the more amorphous bands around too, with there being a side-project for each two-person combination of the three-piece as well as each member freely joining other transient collectives. Together though, they challenge themselves to the extent that Mayson says it has irrevocably shaped him as a person. "it's been very consuming part of our lives, it's formed who we all are."

Clearly, seeing the band isn't a typical gigging experience, you're also witnessing a sociological experiment, one centred around its soundtrack. "Being improvisational, because we've been doing it for so long, means we can interpret each other's moves. The band allows for little corridors toward exploring something interesting to open up. To be blunt it's a slow evolutionary thing, it's a case of watching a relationship grow and change. If we were trying to perfect something musical we'd be writing music, but what we're trying to perfect is the communication between three people."

Live Review: SPECTRUM, DIMMER, THE LOVETONES

Monday, April 14, 2008 

Northcote Social Club

The Lovetones epitomise what most of these Sydney bands who get signed before their 5th gig and have very nice gear, no original ideas and predictable song structures will become in 10 years time. While they're not playing anything actually offensive the sheer dullness of their dynamic and hook-free songs boarders on insulting to their equipment if not to us. One can only imagine the divine 12-string Burns or gorgeous Gibson the guitarists use yelling out through it's pick up 'Stop being so lazy! I wasn't made for blandness!'. Bassist and keyboardist Matthew Sigley does however have talent and writes interesting parts, giving the band what little bounce it has, but it's not enough to pick these songs up.

Dimmer however, keep their songs down, way down, and sound all the better for it. Pushing sub-bass like Lee Perry but keeping the music firmly within the realm of hypnotic rock, each song builds gradually from ex-Straitjacket Fits frontman Shayne Carter's muttered vocals and stuttering guitar, vocals that peter out after the opening minute to be replaced with subsuming caverns of sound. Carter uses an e-bow with a proficiency rarely seen while guitarist James Duncan squeezes heavenly squeals of feedback from his malfunctioning Firebird. Crystalator, The Seed, Degrees of Separation and killer closing song Pacer are perfect examples of their trademark musical quicksand; mid-paced thuds, murky two-note basslines with soaring and diving guitar lines hanging like vines overhead. Needless to say this all goes down especially well with the by-now packed No So.

It seems everyone in Melbourne who knows who Spectrum is finds themselves within these walls tonight, and it is a safe bet that most of them will be here tomorrow night for his second show. 'Different Set. DJ Set' read the fliers he hands out mid-gig to the front row: 'half price with this flier'. A piece of chipboard with an array of pedals, a sequencer, a small mixer and a couple of littlesynths on top of it is placed front and centre. Soon follows Sonic Boom aka Spectrum aka Pete Kember who begins tuning a guitar he doesn't use and spends the first few minutes searching for a small red clip that he uses to hold down keys on one of his keyboards. Once these formalities are dispensed with we are treated to an hour's worth of Spectrum and Experimental Audio Research material that he renders beautifully through his DIY-style setup. Often closing his eyes as he attenuates the tremelo or delay effect, Spectrum layers sounds in a way that echoes simpler moments of Kraftwerk and more complex moments of Karaoke for My Shadow. This Is The End sees vocal samples cut up while most of the rest of the set is warm synth sounds and filtered melodies played with a simplicity that can only come from honed experience.
Ending with a cover of his heroes Suicide's Che, he then returns to the stage for Spaceman 3's tribute to the band, Suicide, with an enthusiastic Dimmer who back Spectrum brilliantly in recreating the chasms of barely controlled anger that make up this modern classic. All in all, a trip.

Live Review: EDDIE FLOYD

Saturday, April 12, 2008 

Prince of Wales

The DJs of PBS who set the scene for soul titan Eddie Floyd are a rare breed, and one we should be eternally grateful for. Pierre Baroni, Manchild and Vince Peach do a sterling job of playing 7-inch records, many of which sound familiar through being sampled and which reinforce the theory that almost all good modern music owes something to soul. Horn blasts, song structures, astonishing vocalists, levity of subjects and loquacity of hips; it's all there in an ingeniously composed four minutes. All of these elements are present in the songs that comprise Floyd's set tonight too, a set whose opening seconds lay waste to any suspicion that this might just be an occasion to go 'Shit. THAT guy wrote Knock On Wood'.

The be-suited and behaved Bamboos stride out and start with a funk introduction that is dangerously slick, busy and a bit 'Daptones'-younger-show-off-brother'. Thankfully, with the arrival of tonight's star performer, they slip into a perfectly-toned and restrained bang-on-the-money professional soul revue. Boy are they tight. Only guitarist Lance Ferguson's lack of space in his guitar solos (a very minor quibble, but these things get magnified when the listener is so familiar with the sound and feel of a soul band) give away these guys as ring-ins.

Eddie Floyd. 74 years old and every year spent grinding out soul songs and delivering stellar shows it would seem. From the black handkerchief sprouting from from the top pocket of his immaculate white silk suit to the copious sweat that he never uses it to wipe from his face, to the way he paces the stage you know you're in the presence of Legend.

Given a rousing and perfectly-pitched introduction from PBS presenter Mohair Slim Floyd kicks off the show with Raise Your Hands. A plea he echoes dozens of times throughout the night as he rouses the crowd again and again to sing along, clap and get involved. 634-5789 'A song I wrote for the wicked Wilson Pickett' follows and it's clear that though Floyd doesn't seem to know the name of the Bamboos members, they are a golden match. Soon drawn to certain female members of the crowd, Floyd's voice is in fine form and many a lady is serenaded during I Never Found A Girl, and Love Is A Doggone Thing. After a barnstorming version of the overlooked sould classic Big Bird ('this is a song I wrote in an airport in London just after I found that Otis' plane had gone down') and two songs from the Stax stable Soul Man and Dock Of The Bay Floyd seems to be pointing the mic at us a little more and forgets most of the words to People Got To Get Together - but hey, the man is 74 and singing like a man half his age and when he does sing, it's magic. Closing anthem Knock On Wood drains his last and the audience have nothing but glee on their faces when leaving. Hats off to those who brought him here and to the great man himself.

Live Review: ROWLAND S. HOWARD

Friday, April 11, 2008 

Ding Dong

Happy Goths! Everywhere! That's the first thing that becomes apparent on walking into the Ding Dong tonight; the sense of reverence and respect that is metered out to only a very select few Australian musicians, and even fewer people at all from this audience. Ambling onto the stage the Dickensian chimney sweep of Australian rock, a (seemingly barely) living legend and songwriter who tonight proves that the peak of his powers are possibly yet to come. Sporting his trademark battered white Fender Jaguar, Howard has visibly more zest and energy than his last appearance four months back when he outshone The Devastations as their support. Howard straight away begins the chugging chords of Oh Jim showing that he is one of the very few performers around with the authority to get inside a Lou Reed song (something he does brilliantly again later tonight with his version of Ocean) and render it as his own. 'Every note of every song tonight is dedicated to Bianca,' intones Howard sincerely, scouring the crowd for his muse before launching into Dead Radio. Despite barely moving, not shifting from his half-octave vocal range and using only the one guitar sound, one style and almost one rhythm for each song tonight, Howard somehow, through sheer persistence maybe, owns the Ding Dong tonight. Yes the songs are good, the crowd clearly adore him and he's a fascinating sonambulistic character to watch, but he is so adept at putting himself through the songs and comfortable being on stage that each song reinforces the feeling that it's we who are lucky to be here, not (after all his adventures, japes and scrapes) him.

"After some consultation we arrived at a spurious agreement,' laughs Howard into the mic following a lengthy chat with the obviously very important Bianca. Whatever it was that was said it was the stuff of pure inspiration because Howard returns for an encore of sorts which brings down the house. These Immortal Souls' Crowned is resurrected in stunning style, while White Wedding is rendered in the only way Howard knows how; excoriating, tough melancholy, The closing gem - one of the more unjustly ignored songs of recent decades and a highlight from his Teenage Snuff Film album - Autoluminescent: 'I'm bigger than Jesus Christ / I'm greater than God in light / I'm...dangerous.' Possibly the highlight of the show though, is his mid-show aside: "all you people who've been coming to my shows the last few years will be glad to know I'm recording a new album in July.' his youthful smile following this brief remark was mirrored on every face. Bring it on.

’E AIN’T HEAVY: An interview with E of EELS

Saturday, April 05, 2008 

Like his name, E (aka Mr. E, or, on the cover of his book Mark Oliver Everett) doesn’t waste words and clearly isn’t enraptured by the interview process. E effortlessly gives the impression he’s more at home when he’s actually at home or writing his vaguely therapeutic and frequently autobiographical songs rather than analysing his inner psychological workings, which in itself is probably paradise compared to trying to explain his new book Things the Grandchildren Should Know. "Yeah it turns out writing songs is a lot easier for me than writing a book," he sighs with mild exasperation. "It’s very different. For one reason, it’s just so exacting, it’s not like a song where there are all sorts of things to cushion the lyrics, and it’s just words and nothing else. I like to be as succinct as possible and that can be difficult. Another reason is that a lot of the subject matter was difficult to deal with." This is hardly news to any listener with even a passing knowledge of Eels’ material or E’s past. 

Son of a renowned quantum physicist who he, at 19, found dead in his bed, with a sister whose suicide, and along with his mother’s death from cancer 18 months later, inspired his best known album Electro-Shock Blues. E clearly has a very listenable way of blending psychotherapy and songwriting. "I was in therapy for ten years." he expounds. "Songwriting is good, it definitely is very helpful, I ultimately don’t know how much it can solve for you, but it has been very therapeutic for me, and really...it saved my life."

Things the Grandchildren Should Know has already garnered overwhelmingly glowing reviews which E admits to finding very nice, words that definitely do not describe its two year gestation. "I’d go out to my guest house in the back yard at a certain time everyday, just sit there and try to write. And for the first time in my life I became a procrastinator because it was hard and I hated doing it so much. The only book that was an influence on my book was Ray Charles’ autobiography which I read when I was a teenager, Brother Ray. What really struck me when I was reading it was how it felt like he was just sitting there talking to you, person to person, just shooting it straight. I really appreciated that and I wanted to try to do my version. I wanted it to feel more spoken than written, as if I’m sitting at the kitchen table with you. ’As unpretentious as possible’, that was my goal."

Bleak self-referential subject matter is a common thread with E’s writing; could he ever run out of material exploring his experiences? "No. I’m not only interested in writing autobiographically, maybe about half of my music is autobiography-based, an awful lot of it isn’t and people often mistake stuff. It’s hard though, in terms of my life story; you don’t have a choice what’s there or what’s not there. I don’t have a limit as to what I reveal, though maybe that’s something I should think about." he says lightening up a little. Though E was raised to use humour as a way to communicate, it’s always been an essential part of his songwriting; the levity working wonders with the subject matter and making his live shows something particularly memorable. E doesn’t, however, feel obliged to live up to fans’ expectations in this department, "There is a time and place for everything, and as an artist I’m just trying to reflect life. Sometimes life is bitter sometimes it’s sweet sometimes it’s sad sometimes it’s funny and I’m trying to balance it all a little bit. Live, there is usually a combination of improvisation and...we do have little think tank meetings where we throw out ideas at each other. For every 100 ideas 99 of them are terrible, but then there’s that one great suggestion."

One suggestion that inadvertently comes up during our conversation is the passing comment that there is an Eels karaoke contest held on an Australian website. "Really!" He says, suddenly electrified. "Where? I didn’t know about this. I should go." When I tell him I came across this on Wikipedia he becomes blasé, "You can’t believe Wikipedia, anybody can write anything." Has he? "No. Can I? I should go and clean that shit up." The absence of an online Eels forum run by the band is, says E, down to their attitude toward band websites in general. "I think a lot of our website is designed to make fun of a typical rock star website. To me it just seems so outlandish that anyone cares what said rock star had for breakfast that morning, the blogs and everything, I think they’re hilarious - unintentionally hilarious - so we thought of just think ’we’re not taking ourselves that seriously’".

E’s work-rate is often commented upon as being pitched somewhere between rigorous and obsessive, and his list of collaborators is impressively vast. From his very first tour, in 1992, with Tori Amos via Peter Buck, Tom Waits, The Dust Brothers and John Parish to current padre Chet Atkins III. "There are always collaborations going on in the studio. I’m smart enough to know that it’s a good idea to surround myself with creative people, so when I’m recording a song I just try not to fix anything that’s not broken: ’Yep that’s working, let’s move on’. Sometimes the collaborations have a part in that decision, but usually the buck stops here." So who can we expect in his Australian tour? "You’ll never really know till you get there. I don’t even know. I’m just flying by the seat of my pants. I like to keep it that way, it keeps things creative. I do like to rehearse though; I like to be well oiled and practiced, but at the same time always keep space for improvisation."

With recent tour dates seeing a BBC-commissioned documentary about E researching his father’s work as a physicist standing in for a support band, its clear anything is possible. It’s this sense of openness E professes that makes me feel comfortable asking him some slightly random questions: How does someone become cool and witty? "Just read my book, it’ll help ya’." he shoots back. What is it that makes you laugh? "That last question was pretty funny." he says cracking up. What advice would you give to singer-songwriters trying to make it big? "That will be chapter seven of my book," deadpans E. Man you really do want to sell this book hey? "Yup." Honest to the last.

Interview: THE BREEDERS - ALL HAIL THE NEW BREED

 Saturday, April 05, 2008 

Anyone who hasn’t been following The Breeders since their Cannonball days better look sharp and catch up. Following this spectacular indie dancefloor filler, The Breeders endured drug busts and rehab (Kelley Deal), reinvention (Kim and Kelley with The Amps and Kelley Deal 6000 respectively), band members leaving (Josephine Wiggs, currently working with Massive Attack, and Jim MacPherson to Guided By Voices) and, finally, reformation. Since their last album 2002’s Title TK The Breeders have consisted of Kim, Kelley, Jose Mendeles on drums and Mando Lopez on bass, the latter of whom is chatting down the line in an enthusiastic - more mile-a-minute New York than laid-back Californian - way. Given that they’re such a well-respected band, why is it that we’ve had to wait six years for another record? "Everybody has their own little projects going on; Kim got back together with The Pixies on their reunion tour, Kelley wrote a book about knitting (Bags That Rock: Knitting on the Road with Kelley Deal), Jose is doing session work, and I do production work. That, plus Jose is in Portland, I’m in L.A and the girls are still in Dayton; it’s a little complicated but we all meet out in Dayton."

The last album Title TK seemed to pass many people by, given that it didn’t have a radio friendly single to throw around. What it did have though, was slow-burning quality few associated with the author of classic bursts of glee as Gigantic, Tipp City and Divine Hammer. "I don’t know if everybody got it, I heard some people say it’s like a demo but then I heard some people say it’s a classic. I don’t listen too much to the critics or the fans, I know we were happy with it, but you’re just not sure what people think. I guess I feel like this one is kind of the same thing but so far people aren’t saying it’s a demo anymore. Definitely it’s a new thing, it’s a come-out-of-nowhere kind of a record, it’s not Last Splash it’s not Pod, it’s definitely it’s own little entity which I love."

Mountain Battles is already garnering a great response, which must help with the pressure he and Mendeles must feel to live up to earlier incarnations. "It’s own thing at this point, those albums are so different, maybe Pod you could probably compare us a little bit to. The response to Last Splash was a surprise I’m sure for even Kim. I don’t know that there is anything we have to live up to; it’s not something we feel we need to live up to anymore. I totally enjoy playing all the old songs. The only pressure I feel is that I don’t want to fuck the songs up live. These are classic songs, you don’t want to blow it," he says laughing.

Though Lopez is best known for playing in The Breeders, he’s also a member of notorious punk legends Fear. "Kim was telling me when we met her that one of The Pixies tours was called the ’Fuck Or Fight Tour’ named after a Fear lyric; ’Oh my God we named our tour after one of your songs!’ he laughs. "With The Breeders, it’s a way different experience. The crowds are way different. [Fear singer and founder] Lee Ving doesn’t enjoy touring as much anymore, we do shows scattered here and there and the last time we wrote was years ago. The Breeders are a working band and Fear more play satellite shows around our area. Again, it’s more like I want to play well, I know the songs - they’re classics - and you just want to play them right and play them good."

Being such a consummate professional, Lopez is happy to cater to the Deal’s careful writing practices. "Kim usually comes up with the basic idea, then ideas get thrown around. German Studies started with a little lick, and from there it took on maybe eight different drum beats - Kim played drums, I played drums and Jose obviously - a disco beat, a hardcore beat...all these different beats, throughout the course of two or three years. The songs take on various inclinations before the final recording, so maybe they seem spontaneous but we work on them. The initial writing started when she was still in LA recording Title TK, I remember working on No Way with her in her apartment, but we only started demoing a few years ago in LA." Despite six recording locales and five producer credits Mountain Battles sounds remarkably cohesive, Lopez is quick to explain: "They’re not exactly producers, they’re more engineers that sort of helped us put stuff together. Kim and Kelley produced it, they spent a lot of hours at that board man, they know exactly what they want, and sometimes it’s really hard to get there. I remember the mastering session man, one time they took three days just mastering one song. One song! It’s hellish when you’re going through it...quite hellish. They definitely have an ear for what they want. They know it."

Though it is a producer’s wet dream to listen to, much in the way that Cannonball was ("’exactly a dozen different aural effects in the first 57 seconds!" squealed audiophiles on it’s release) it’s sounds like it would be a thrill to play live. "It is fun," enthuses Lopez. "But it’s really nerve-wracking, we’re extremely nervous about it...they’re brand new, the other songs are fairly easy, we’ve played them for years already. Is there a lull in the set because a lot of the new songs are slow? Are people going to like Spanish Song or will people will be: ’get the fuck out of here or give me Cannonball ten times in a row’? We just don’t know. We probably have too many new songs from the set, seven or eight of them which might be a little too much, but I think we’ll keep them and siphon them off as we go along."

Due to reach Australia around October, Lopez expounds on his Australian experiences with glee. "Man we love touring. We’re all tour dogs. We went to Australia with Title TK - just our own proper tour - we had a lot of fun with that. Our sound guy did say something funny about it, he said ’Australia’s like California in the 70s’ and I know exactly what he means because I grew up in California in the 70s by the beach and I love it." Expect that love to be reciprocated by several thousand times when they do get here.

Live Review: AIR, NEW BUFFALO

Friday, April 04, 2008 

Palais Theatre

We count eleven synths. Possibly each key has a mic. It must be a full-time job keeping Air’s arsenal of synthery up to scratch, indeed one guy scampers onstage to readjust the Moog's settings between each song. It’s this very necessary attention to detail and impeccable sound replication that impress a crowd that often seems like they either didn’t pay or had the tickets bought for them. It’s an oddly muted response given the enthusiastic ticket price and that it’s the band’s first ever Australian show. Still, is this music we’ll get really excited by or more genuinely feel warmth toward? A typical Melbourne D begins to form with the front rows nearly empty (possibly pointing to some ambitious and disappointed scalpers) through an earnest and satisfying set from New Buffalo, who again proves her worth as one of our greatest musical treasures. A delicate Cheer Me Up Thank You and a new song that seems like it’s called I’m A Girl Who Needs Her Space both work as a perfect set closer. When called upon, her band - now consisting of Raquel Solier (of Sir) on sparse but effective drums, Jess Venebles (guest of most indie-pop bands a some point) and a sorely-missed Isabel Knowles (ex-AiH) - are tight and thrilling, ensuring the intimacy of Seltmann’s compositions aren’t lost in the cavernous hall.

Air. Rarely has a band been more appropriately named. From the glass sculptures of themselves adorning the album cover, to their tight white jeans, shirts and ties that would blend in against any new apartment’s wall, to their sexless funk and anonymous background cafe soundscapes - music that avoids both mind and pelvis, yet seems to be effervescent and everywhere, we know them better than we think we do. Those that do come to see this music played live tend to be thoughtful types in their early 30s, very few of whom could leave disappointed. Kicking off with an almighty Radio 1 and Electronic Performers Air’s instantly impressive light show and crisp, hard sound indicate their experience and detonate any ideas that this will be as coffee-table an experience as many treat their music. Interestingly, all of their songs from Moon Safari (whose opening bars get the biggest crowd responses) get a sped-up, tougher makeover, a plan which works really well for set highlights Sexy Boy and Kelly Watch The Stars, but which makes Talisman sound almost perfunctory. The languid Cherry Blossom Girl and Mer du Japon are sumptuous Gallic breaths of song, enhanced beautifully by an artificial starscape behind them, while other songs off the recent Pocket Symphony (Photograph especially) are snoozeworthy bores. Air themselves, however, seem anything but. Guitarist and bassist Nicolas Godin cracks up many of us with his vocodered banter while Jean-Benoît Dunckel is all elegance with his chin in the air, living out a childhood dream; hands rarely on the same keyboard. The Beck-duet Don’t Be Light is lovely and causes much applause, but it takes until the politely requested (well, it is a hard band name to shout in an impassioned way) encores of Playground Love, Sexy Boy, the completely transfixing closer, and song that actually does sound like a moon safari, La Femme D’Argent, with it’s crunching, driving and artfully groovy bassline, warpspeed keyboard passages and precision-thwacked drums, to bring us to our feet and sending us to the merch desk in droves. A surprisingly dynamic and exciting night for such a typically gentle band.

Interview: M83 - Eighties Fan

Thursday, March 20, 2008 

"I really love all the 80s teen movies, especially John Hughes ones," enthuses Anthony Gonzales (aka M83) through his rich French brogue over a slice of cheesecake. "I was a bit to young to watch these movies because I was born in the 1980s, I just rediscovered them when I was 14 or 15. What I really like about John Hughes is the way he talks about teenagers, and talks about their feelings, their fears and their angst. I really like that. Sometimes it can be like very comic but sometimes it’s really dramatic, it’s a big influence on me. I like Say Anything a lot too, a great love story, very beautiful."

Though disappointed by their support slots for Midnight Juggernauts due to lost gear and an under-rehearsed band, but optimistic about a concert here in their own right later this year, Gonzales is relishing being in Australia, "It’s such a beautiful place here, I really like the atmosphere of the cities. I love to travel and share my music, it’s exhausting but I like this." Gonzales also clearly revels in discussing the overt allure of the 1980s on his band’s new album Saturdays=Youth, something that sets it apart from his earlier releases. Those familiar with his catalogue may well be surprised that the epic synth-shoegazing-soundscapes of his earlier work, though still present, have been largely replaced by...songs. "What I find interesting in music is to evolve, to make things different each time. The idea was to keep the image and the sounds people like and to bring something new on top of it. I always wanted to be more ’pop’ in my album and to have more songs and song-structured tracks. I’m happy because a lot of people say it’s very different to my earlier music, actually, this is the aim of the album."

Effectively preempting the continuation of the late-70s/early-80s and now nearly mid-80s revival, Gonzales is so confident in his embracing of a concept many musicians find anathema it’s almost life-affirming; the N-word. "There is a lot of nostalgia in my music because of my experiences of course. On this album, the feeling was to recreate the feelings of my teenage years. I don’t know why but I’m still very fascinated by my teenage years and by teenagers, and secondly because it was such an important period of my life because I discovered so many new things. I think when you are 13/14 years old life is really starting to be interesting, it’s like a new open window. I just wanted to make a tribute to this period of my life which was really interesting and full of great memories; meeting new people, listening to new music, new bands, going to your first live shows..." His first live show? "Iron Maiden. I was 10. I was an ’eavy metal fan," he goofily justifies with a mile wide smile, a smile that turns into a surprised laugh when affirming my suggestion that Maiden's ’bigger than life’ sound might have influenced him musically.

Like the family home you can return to at the end of an emotional day as a teenager, Gonzales couldn’t contemplate living anywhere but his small Mediterranean port city of Antibes, (a place I’m certain he pronounces differently each time he corrects my mispronunciation of it). "For musicians the places you compose the music in are such a reflection of the music and it’s a really important thing. If you’re not in a good mood or in a good place, your music could not reflect where you are actually, I think you have to feel safe in a place. Antibes it’s a really beautiful city with a lot of beautiful landscape. I feel really quiet when I’m there...it’s really cool. I was living in Paris for three years but it was so difficult to make music there so I decided to move back. It’s where I feel confident enough to face the facts to make music."

Gonzales occupies a niche that at first seems unique, but, in France at least, he is not alone in using his own life experiences and setting them in an 80s context, "There is a band in France called The Teenagers, who are quite famous and totally new, they are in the same kind of mood. I think a lot of people are still very interested in this period...nostalgia over and over...a lot of people are nostalgic which is a good thing for my album."
Saturdays=Youth while perhaps not uniting a generation raised on the sounds of The Eurythmics and Thompson Twins, will undoubtedly turn some ears with it’s canny blend of textured synth and piano-based warmth and affecting (not affected) vocal turns. Tracks such as You, Appearing, first single Couleurs and the Kate Bush-esque Up! especially, layer sounds in a way that seems more orchestral than someone attempting to recreate the best of 80s radio. This, however, is precisely what Kim & Jessie and Graveyard Girl succeed in doing, albeit French 80s radio, which it seems through Gonzales’ ears at least, was no bad thing. "What I like with the 80s is that when you listened to the radio at the time you could hear Tears For Fears or the singles of Talk Talk; very new music and so experimental. Nowadays when you listen to radio it’s always the same kind of song, same kind of production, but at the time radio took a lot of risk."

By adopting the instigations for making these songs - attempting to capture the emerging free will of youth and sociological-discovery - Gonzales freely admits to plundering his own youth to connect with the overwhelming feeling that drives these songs and films he cherishes so much. "Love is like a very important thing when you are a teenager, it’s such a good feeling, a lot of movies are talking about this. What is interesting is the contrast between the movies and the different ways they talk about love, I like different views. For me being a teenager it was no problem at all. I had a good relationship with my parents and I was feeling free to do whatever I wanted to experiment with. No bad memories about this at all. And it’s so great to fall in love when you are 13 or 14 it’s so new - overwhelming - it’s like first sexual moments as well." But surely there were hard times too? "Yeah, heartbreak happened sometimes, like every teenager. It wasn’t sad moments you know, you’re just learning to know how to live your life and that’s what I like about being a teenager."

Live Review: MIDNIGHT JUGGERNAUTS, M83, DAMN ARMS DJS

Thursday, March 20, 2008 

The Forum

Quite what has happened to Damn Arms in the course of the last two years is a mystery, but surely it wasn’t meant to include this. Dressed up like Death From Above 1979 and DJing some shonky disco-house that becomes offensive by the sheer inoffensiveness of it is all miles from the blinding white energy they formed when at their peak those two long years back. To add insult to injury, they also play some out-of-time electronic percussion over the tunes, which only serves to remind you just how good Optimo are. No one dances.


Thank God (or Eno) then, for M83. Already justly legendary in certain circles, Anthony Gonzales and co (the backing band formed two weeks ago and, due to an airport malfunction in Singapore, are tonight relying on unfamiliar equipment) set about the arduous task of playing highlights from their as-yet-unreleased album Saturdays = Youth. Adorned in a Red Eye Records t-shirt, Gonzales opens with the epic Moonchild, a highlight from 2005’s Before The Dawn Heals Us album, which, along with another single from that album Don’t Save Us From The Flames, gives us the set’s highlights. Newer, more-song based material is mainly mid-paced and prominently features Kate Bush look-and-sound-alike Korg player Morgan Kibby and, though good and blessed with fantastic melodies, is more spacey, soft-textured and not of the intergalactic panoramic nature of earlier work so doesn’t work quite as well live. The drums are big and sparse in a way that hasn’t been heard since 1987 and flesh out the songs in a brilliant way. If only the kids in the audience would stop talking and shouting "I’m at a gig! No...a GIG!" into their phones. Thankfully M83 expect to be back with their own gear and own shows toward the end of the year.


Bringers of M83 from France to Australia and ’sold out’ signs to the windows of The Forum are local boys made good the Juggs, and holy crap are they on form tonight. If having a banner of a giant eagle bearing your name covering the whole back of the stage means you’ve made it (and it sure as hell looks like it does), they’ve made it. Opening with Road To Recovery, the crowd are instantly madly happy, crowd-surfing and bouncing wildly with nary a band t-shirt in sight and a bunch of first-home buyers in neat casual up the back; it’s a ringing endorsement for the hard slog of gigs it’s taken them to get here. With a literally blinding light show and a set that is basically Dystopia with some middling new songs, these guys can certainly put on a show, though their songwriting is still lagging behind the production, no one cares. Crowd insanity levels peak about five seconds into Tombstone while Shadows and Into The Galaxy send people into ’Elvis has just left the building’ territory. You can see why Justice have been so taken with them and why they might be feeling 2008 will be their best year yet.

Live Review: THE DIRTBOMBS, JAY REATARD, OOGA BOOGAS

Thursday, March 20, 2008 

East Brunswick Club

The Ooga Boogas are a band that rarely get mentioned when people discuss what’s hot on the local music scene, and tonight they prove why. Mid-paced bar-band garage boogie may well kick arse at the 2AM slot at Pony when you’re off your head on spiked beer, but when the following bands are renown for their ability to kickstart a crowd like a Hercules then a little more energy wouldn’t go astray. Though their set could have taken place any time in the last 30 years and the singer’s weak voice does their upbeat-party vibe no favours, Mikey Young is a crusading Cramps-esque killer on the guitar, picking up the song every time he’s given a chance to shine. When they push into post-garage stomp territory and stretch out the riffs they become something slightly more interesting. Closing song Oogie Boogie (yep, these guys are for real) gets to the point the fastest, and keeps it there, also giving Young the chance to stretch out.

By the beginning of Jay Reatard’s set the venue is packed and the hilariously nerdish-looking band waste no time kicking into top gear in the way Garth from Waynes World would. Bassist Stephen Pope (a cross between Jonah Hill and Jack Black) uses most of the stage he can reach with his lead, pulling out every move Bill And Ted ever made. Tracks See/Saw, Nightmares, Hammer I Miss You and Waiting For Something edge ahead of the other tracks purely on the virtue of their having a hint of dynamics and slightly more intensity than the other tracks, all of which sound identical (though don’t on record). V-shaped guitars, screeching feedback as Reatard shouts the name of the next song and no tracks over three minutes are the order of the day, and that’s pretty much all the band do. But shit do they do it well.


The Dirtbombs raise their sights a little higher and win us over in seconds flat, but this doesn’t seem to be a repeat of the now-legendary soul-revue-style brilliance they brought last time. Having said that, from the crowd-riling opener Underdog onward we’re hardly given a chance to sweat so little let-up do they give us. Sweat does run, though, in buckets from compelling singing and clumsy guitar-playing frontman Mick Collins; even his guitar is running sweat as he ties us to the back of the Dirtbomb and drags us through the highlights of their pretty damn extensive back catalogue. Covers of Ever Lovin’ Man, I Heard Her Call My Name, and the much-hyped set-closer Need You Tonight are all sweetly done. Collins and bassist Troy Gregory bring the party while ’fuzz bassist’ Ko Melina brings the noise, drummer Pat Pantano is amazingly sharp while second-drummer Ben Blackwell seems largely (sacrilege I know) redundant. Their encore of I Can’t Stop Thinking About It is a clear highlight (and missing from their Golden Plains set) and leaves fans clamouring for merch before some much-needed fresh air. Damn good night.

Live Review: IAN BROWN, BELLES WILL RING - written with Benjamin Cluness

Thursday, March 20, 2008 

Hi-Fi Bar

It is with euphoric joy that the crowd float down the stairs of the Hi-Fi Bar, bolstered by the best part of the recent output of Becks brewery and more than ready to boogie with Mr Brown and bond in a way that is rarely seen out of football terraces in the UK. T-shirts are snapped up before a note is played, Brown could do play nothing but the new album and we’d love him.

Support comes in the form of psychedelic folksters, Belles Will Ring. Comparisons to The Doors, The Velvet Underground (circa Loaded), and British pop bands of late 60s spring to mind. Their second song, The Coldest Heart, provides the standout track, with it’s jangling guitar and rolling vocals. Despite giving a good performance and possessing a strong sound, Belles Will Ring fail to ignite the crowd in any way, the dance floor only filling for their final song Mad Love before they leave the stage. Tough gig.

Waves of excitement ripple across the crowd as we wait for Brown to take the stage, his name chanted loudly to the ’Here we go, here we go, here we go--oo’ melody, followed by raucous cheering as he bounds into view. Wearing clothing more befitting a teenager than a man in his mid-forties yet without looking ridiculous, he swaggers across the stage, as the opening bassline for I Wanna Be Adored rumbles through the venue. Delivered in his trademark, charisma-laden albeit tuneless tones, Adored is the perfect opener. "So. Anyone here from Australia?" cracks Brown to the 90% British crowd as he paces the stage, throwing the odd monkey move in his baggy jeans. "You all backpackers ’ey? You all skint? Fucking should be after paying for these tickets." If Dolphins Were Monkeys follows, much to the delight of the insanely over-hyped crowd who are already a mess of sweat and fists. The set takes in selections from Brown’s back catalogue, with each of his albums represented as well as the Stone Roses debut (their sophomore album Second Coming is, thankfully, ignored). Golden Gaze thunders along over trip-hop drums and a dirty synth line, while Longsight M13 sees Brown deliver his best vocal performance of the night, before a redundant "So, do you lot like The Roses then?" precedes the loudest most laddish version of Waterfall imaginable, the crowd nearly drowning out the band.

Encore-opener I Am The Resurrection begins to tumultuous applause and frenzied cheering. Brown clearly at ease with the excitement he is causing as he bellows out the chorus. For the breakdown the former Roses front-man takes position beside Goldfinger, the turbaned percussionist, to batter the bongos and crash the cymbals. The guitar solo erupts as do the crowd in a seething mass of demented moshing. A riotous rendition of F.E.A.R serves to close the night, the crowd singing every word back at the stage - a crowd that could teach the standard Melbourne audience a thing or ten about how to act during a gig - before the drained crowd pick their way through the sea of scattered bottles. Despite being unable to sing in tune, Brown is a natural and charismatic performer, swaggering across the stage with the arrogance of someone half his age. He is adored.

Interview: THE RUBY SUNS - Shining Brightly

Saturday, March 08, 2008 

Ryan McPhun, "main dude" from The Ruby Suns, is feeling chipper. On the line from his stepmother's place in New Zealand and soon to embark on a US tour with Le Loup, he is slowly but surely seeing his group go from strength to strength with the release of their new Sea Lion album, and second single Kenya Dig It?. So, what is it with those names and the obsession with animals? "My stepmom is from Zimbabwe and she sort of chaperones tourists through national parks in Kenya - her and my Dad, they're like the middle-men between these rich, white, mostly American tourists and the animals." explains McPhun. "I think zoos are depressing sometimes. There are excuses for some animals being in zoos, but they're wild. I've gone on three of those trips with her now, they're amazing obviously, but it's upsetting to be around those Americans." Much of The Ruby Suns' music and lyrics has been inspired by people, animals and places, creating a rare state where a songwriter's subject matter becomes the trademark of the band more than any musical style. "Delay" is his only response when questioned about anything musically linking his releases so far: "I'm pretty into delay".

More revealing is where and how he finds inspiration. "I think it has a lot to do with the mindset you're in when you're traveling or somewhere new, where you don't have the responsibilities you have at home. When I went on that trip to Kenya, it was organised and I was with my folks so I had zero stress, that's why I was being creative at that time. I did a lot of writing there because I didn't have any peers or much in common with people on the trip so I talked more with people who worked at these camps. It was exciting. Kenya is so different to New Zealand. A lot of people go to Europe but it's not really that different to where they're from, it's still western".
With an output rate that would give Palace pause for thought, McPhun explains that though last year's self-titled LP (and subsequent EPs Lichen Ears, XFM Sessions and Sister Brother) is still finding new fans, audiences are often seeing entirely new material. "With Sea Lion we've been playing some tracks for over a year, it's frustrating because the album's not even out yet in the US or the UK and it's already unrepresentative in some ways. I guess I'm nervous showing people the newer stuff I've done. I know it's not similar to earlier albums but I also know I won't be able to make another song like any of those because it's something I've already done".

The three-piece electronic percussion-heavy version of The Ruby Suns which replaced the five-piece lineup that opened for The Shins last year has, unusually, coincided with the band garnering new fans faster than ever. "Being signed to Sub Pop just kind of validated what I had been doing so far." McPhun says of last year's inking to the legendary label. "I'm a little excited and anxious." he says of the new release. "With Sea Lion I'm just hoping that more people hear us and we can tour more. Musically I'm getting more interested in doing stuff on my computer and making music in a different way". This may go some way to explaining the unexpected 80s synth pop turns that Sea Lion throws up, along with it's purposive melodic soundscapes, rousing singalongs (such as first single, the all-Maori Tane Mahuta) and expansive orchestrations (Remember). It all seems like something that will go down famously with a certain well-respected website. "I'm pretty nervous to see what Pitchfork say about it. A lot of stuff they get into I really like too. I imagine they'll mention Panda Bear and this guy El Guincho. But I'm sure people will decide for themselves." As are we.

Live Review: WHITLEY, SKIPPING GIRL VINEGAR, SEAGULL

Saturday, March 08, 2008 

Northcote Social Club

Man there must be some good fake I.Ds around. Barely anyone (besides someone's annoyingly boisterous dad) seems over 20 here tonight, due, it turns out, to Whitley, who has been getting a well-justified flogging on JJJ. It's a seismic shift from the last time he played the No So supporting The Panics. Gone is the boy huddled over his delay pedal with Chris Seagull at his side, tonight both shine in their own right. The most notable change though, is the crowd. The place is sold out and packed before the end of Seagull's cracked, crooked and captivating set. With sparse lyrics, repetitively hammered chords, the occasional burst of melody from his voice or the guitar makes for an arresting presence. Over often severe dynamic shifts, Seagull overlays his fractured voice which sounds as though it will age in a rich Waitesian fashion, particularly if accompanied by alcoholism. "This is in the same key as the past three songs" he deadpans before bringing in his tight, tom-heavy and wonderfully restrained rhythm section for another hypnotic workout. Stellar stuff.

Opening with the warm jets of Wandered Skipping Girl Vinegar seem as though they've just got out of a day spa instead of off the plane from Nashville where they just finished mixing their debut album. "You're so kind," says singer Mark Lang. "You're so good!" says some punter. Bringing in the audience to sing the horn section of next single Sift The Noise we need no encouragement, nor is it hard to find recruits for Lang's 'Postal Revolution'. People seem to be embracing homespun-authenticity in a big way here tonight, a feeling that extends to replacing emails with handwritten letters. Fighting With Gravity is elevated with it's sweet harmonies (keyboardist Amanthi Lynch and the hyper-energised drummer Chris Helm particularly stand out tonight) and closing track Sinking ties a bow around another dynamite set from a band who seem to be able to do no wrong.

Whitley seems now to refer to a five-piece band rather than just the warmly charming Peninsular boy who played his first gig in June. The band seem to be taking the songs in a totally different, almost stadium rock direction, bringing out a Whitley-as-frontman side to him previously unhinted at. And it works alarmingly well. All Is Whole is reborn, More Than Life and Hyperballad stay showstopping solo pieces, and it's clear that he is on a roll that shows signs of only increasing pace. "This is a new song, it's about weird stuff, but it sounds pretty normal. So sucked in." he explains after banging on about the virtues of getting off pot, apologising to his mum and before pulling out an incendiary We're Becoming Shadows, a crowd-pleasing I Felt Something and new song and future Neighbours-soundtrack-fodder Islands. Though these new songs are tonight's highlights, more impressive is the sharp relief between Whitley's cute-younger-brother vibe and his songs that seem to be channeled by someone three times his age, a maturity that is perhaps responsible for him keeping his head through this last nine months and into his no-doubt bright future.

Live Reivew: THE SPAZZYS, SPIRAL STAIRS

Saturday, March 08, 2008 

The Tote

Getting a chance to see a legend of modern music for $6 was a prospect few kids who were in the know were going to turn down, and as it is, the place is packed with people there who would be happy with a set of Pavement covers. What we get is some new material, mostly of a rambling, jamming nature. "Let's just jam a little bit on E." Says Mr. Stairs after tuning up. "It's going to be lose but we'll have some fun". Mercifully this also means that we have fun too. With the bassist not leaving the note of E till the third song and nothing shifting above mid-tempo, it could be forgiven for being tedious by those not captivated by the fact that "Hey, it's Spiral Stairs! Who cares!". 

From the opening Sacred Secret and Maltese Terrier, two of the songs he's intending to record with the backing band he assembled for this tour here in Australia, Stairs' easy charm wins over most of those in the room, and by the time he kicks into a countrified version of the Pavement classic Two States (with a third verse dedicated to his guitarist Julian Wu - honestly how does he wind up on so many stages?), we're forgiving his sloppy guitar playing, the under-rehearsed band, that he sings like a rhythm guitarist and the feeling that the other songs were written in five minutes and worked out before our eyes. 

Spiral Stairs is having fun though, a worn out Calexico t-shirt, some funny stories and a shiny Gretsch that he barely pushes; letting the chipper backing band cover for him; seeing someone so respected having this much fun goes a surprisingly long way. Closing track Folk Singer is a high point of this three-guitar-fronted six piece's set with it's odd turns of phrase and ace riffage.

The Spazzys are lovely people, good musicians, fine singers and can write a throwaway piece of pop-punk better than most. Seeing them play though, is very much like going to Hungry Jacks for dinner; you know what you are wanting, you know what you can expect, you pay your $6, you get it and you're satisfied. No surprises, no twists, no dodgy vocal harmony or unexpected bum note - no chance of haloumi instead of a Kraft single. As far as reductionist pop-punk goes these girls are the queens and quite clearly this is not music meant to be thought about this hard, but from opener Don't You Understand onward, The Spazzys dish out songs that sound like they're all covers of 70s punks songs done nicely for this seasons' indie flick, which the (markedly different to SS) audience stonily appreciate. Still, they are and probably always will be fun in a can.

Interview: BASEBALL - Hitting Hard

Sunday, March 02, 2008 

With glowing reviews across the board, Baseball's debut album Animal Kingdom is a record indisputably unlike others. Few who've heard it could deny its galvanising mix of Middle Eastern history, partying and almost overbearing sense of humanity, qualities that are very representative of band founder, songwriter, singer and violinist Thick Passage AKACameron Potts . Baseball are a band with profound subject matter, full of trans-cultural humour and refreshingly free of irony and sarcasm - Jim Henson with a PhD in Aramaic History.

"This lineup has been going since 2005 and I'd have to say this is the strongest lineup of any band I've played in, it's the only lineup where everything is 25%. Even though I'm coming in with some chords every now and then, I'm letting a lot of the writing go because I trust so much in the people I'm playing with, - I know they're going to come up with something good. It's very spherical in that way." he laughs, and when he laughs, it's nigh on impossible not to crack up too, regardless of the cause. "We're all coming from different directions, none of us can can agree on a single band that we like - which I think is a blessing. The bands that I like - to a degree - Monica (Fikerle, bassist) and Ev (Evelyn Morris AKA Pikelet, drummer/vocalist) will listen to, but Ben (Butcher, guitar) is a stoner rocker from Ballarat so he's always going to play these big fuzzy chords. You'd think that wouldn't work with in a band with me and Evelyn, but it does."

The story of how Baseball came to be the way they are would have to be a fascinating account given the unique melange of overseas adventures, gigs and associated bands that even a cursory glance at the band offers up. In a way, it's a miracle that they exist at all given the many projects the members are involved in. At first listen there is that violin and vocal style that set them apart, but to begin with, it's the subject matter that defines the band. "I'm just obsessed with the Middle East and it's always been that way." says Potts. "That's where those monastic faiths come from, Jerusalem or Arabia if you're talking about the Muslim world. It's pretty much all the same wording if you look at the Koran, the Torah and the Old Testament. It just inspires me and astounds me; the egotistical nature of man. That they create gods so they can go to war to divide and conquer foreign lands and invade, which still happens to this day - nothing has changed in 3000 years. I find that intensely fascinating, I want to get to the bottom of it. All the songs on the album have that as an underlying theme, they're all iced in different ways but the cake remains the same. The lyrics all have double meanings. In once sense I'm talking about a plain story where the listener who doesn't know what I've just told you, will think about something else. But in all these songs there is an inquiry which I don't let anyone know about, that's always essential to the songs; that comes from growing up with the Bible. I just like the aesthetics of the Middle East, I like the palm trees and the deserts of the Biblical world, and I find all those aesthetics of wording a beautiful thing. I could easily be speaking about these things in modern terms but I don't like those aesthetics - that's why they're dressed up that way."

More personally though, Potts' own take on how he wound up with the interests he has is far more personal than distant lands and once-foreign religions. "I grew up in the late 70s and in school I was hit a lot and beaten by nuns and brothers. When you're seven or eight, you don't forget that, you carry that with you for a long time because you're an impressionable child. There were horrible things that happened to me in Catholic schools and that's never going to leave me. That's why there is always this questioning, this fascination with the Middle East, especially with Jerusalem because that's where it all came from." When this fascination became a journey to the Middle East, Potts' need for expression find an unlikely outlet. "I bought my first violin in Cairo, then me and Monica traveled to Calcutta by land, and everything I learned was learned in deserts and bars and cafés. When I got back to Australia Laura (McFarlane, Ninetynine) said, 'You're not playing Western scales dude, you're playing semitones.' And I had no fucking idea, it was just something I knew. And to this day it's not something I want to change, it's a natural process for me."

For a band so honed on live performance, Animal Kingdom has already given their profile a kick, and naturally Baseball had their own standards to live up to when recording. "I think it's the duty of the album to show the second face of the coin. I think the band is powerful in it's own right live to warrant attention, but it needs double layering. With the album there isn't much difference between it and the live show at all; we wanted to take a Polaroid of where we were at the time. The only difference I'd say is the lyric booklet that gives the listener some idea of what's going on." Capturing their whirlwind-of-razors sound was always going to be part of the almost violent integrity Potts' keeps to his subjects and the songs he builds around them. "With any music that is real or means something, it comes form an accidental source. It's just expelled at the time, and at the time we were writing those songs we were just doing something that was natural to us. Lyrically for me that album didn't start speaking until it was done and put on the shelf. Then it started saying to me 'hang on, there is something going on there', something I'd never investigated before, it's been there since I was little, but never in such a concise body of work. Anything real takes on a life of it's own. It's not going to go away, in fact there is more to be learned the more it sits there." And the name? "The name Animal Kingdom came from a conversation Ev and I had about power in society and power in the savannah, how things are very similar in that way. We're all animals, essentially."

Live Review: SHARON JONES AND THE DAP-KINGS, CW STONEKING

Saturday, March 01, 2008 

Hi-Fi Bar

Accompanied by his three-piece Primitive Horn Orchestra, C.W Stoneking, like tonight's headliners, plays his style in a way that suggests it's more an extension of his life than work. With a voice that seems to hold the record crackle of a 78, it's a strange and affecting instrument. Thrumming his National guitar and riffing off the horn section, his songs are oddly reinforcing for their similarities. When the audience are called in for call-and-response duty for Cabbage Greens we respond boisterously and without being asked twice. Watching King Hokum being gently possessed works as well as we could hope tonight's Hi-Fi Bar-as-time-machine to work, here though, the clock is firmly set to the late 1920s, and, finishing with Hangman's Blues to warm applause and cheers, he proves an inspired choice to open the gig this evening.

Staying in he Deep South while winding that time machine forward a few decades brings us deep into soul-funk territory, the land where the Kings go by the name of Dap. 45 minutes of Soul-A-Go-Go-style DJing and out step the coolest, smoothest, swingingest smartest-suited cats you could hope for, and like CW Stoneking, we know what we're getting and it doesn't let up. They deliver, all night.
The first 15 minutes sees the band musically introduced by guitarist and MC Binky Griptite who, as expected, is a faultless consummate professional, working us for all we're worth, whipsmart asides and surefire soloing works beautifully with chief songwriter, producer and bandleader, bassist Bosco Mann. It's amazing that these guys actually use the rolled white towels provided, so little do they seem to be extending themselves and so effortlessly does the music flow. The same cannot be said for the performance put in by Queen Of Funk herself, Miss Sharon Jones. Jones works herself shaking and shimmying like a girl half her age, bellowing into the mic and working up a sweat within the opening song. She kicks off her gold high-heels part way through the set, just to give it that bit more; "I don't need these shoes" she breathes, "I'm goin' fishin'" as the band ease into Fish On My Dish. The band treat the beat as a bait, wriggling on hook after hook as Jones works the stage from side to side, bringing up eager crowd members to dance with her and play the part of the (usually unlucky) man in her songs. Like The Dap-Kings, it's all showmanship that never breaches showing off. Make It Good To Me, a Melbourne-dedicated Humble Me, Genuine and 100 Days, 100 Nights are all highlights, as is their frequent expressions of rousing disbelief that "We packed this place out FOUR NIGHTS IN A ROW Melbourne. It's unprecedented. For us.". Coming back for their encore Jones gives us an untoppable trip through the dances of her youth in Augusta, Georgia that sees the crowd taking her lead and dancing the Boogaloo, Funky Chicken, Mashed Potato etc. It's a night the smartly-dressed cross-section of community-radio-loving public that makes up tonight's raucous crowd seem to want to remember, if the throng milling around the Super Show Super Store (AKA Soul Mart! 'Where soul meets dynamite!' AKA the merch desk) after the show is anything to go by.

Live Review: LISA MITCHELL, LEEROY LEE, ASHLEIGH MANNIX

Monday, February 25, 2008 

Northcote Social Club

The influence of American music on Australian music, though ever-present, seems to be a growing force of late. It's there in the voices of almost everyone on Australian Idol and it's infiltration in the vocalstylings of any singers go almost unnoticed now. Tonight's opening act, hand-picked by the fascinating headliner Lisa Mitchell is, at least, acknowledging of her obvious influences. There is no reason why Ashleigh Mannix shouldn't be kicking arse on national TV right now. Yes she is talented, has a charming rapport, lovely voice and photogenic good looks but yet another girl thrumming ablonde Maton really has to be doing something a little different to make an impression these days. Mannix comes across as Kat Frankie with milk teeth, especially on her better numbers like Torn, Pieces Of You, and White. It's early days and you can't help for feeling that someone finding their feet in such well-worn shoes may do better barefoot.

Someone who doesn't use the audience as therapist, diary or soundtrack to a Byron Bay summer as so many guitarist/songwriters do, is Leeroy Lee, a name you can safely invest in right now such is his talent, originality, songwriting skills and comfortable nature on the mic. As easy cracking jokes about recycled riffs for an environmentally-themed song as he would be trouncing Xavier Rudd in a slide showdown, Lee is clearly not going to be unknown for long. Never altering the sound of his guitar, he creates atmospheres efficiently with e-bow, reverb and delay then places his brittle guitar lines and warm voice on to great effect. Songs like Them Bad Apples, Sweetly Sugarcane and Draw in Smoke would be equally at home on a MOJO compilation CD, in an American indie flick or played at Port Fairy - it is rare for such a talented guitarist to write so well. Lee possesses a voice as warm as Nick Drake's but with greater intimacy and is maybe even more engaging as a result. It's when the loop station/delay is brought in that it feels as though a wall has gone up - gone is the organic connection he constructs so well, though it must be said, this seemed to bother no one else and is not likely to be noticed on record, the first of which will be coming out shortly and will only serve to broaden Lee's profile.

Lisa Mitchell must be the most curious guitar-wielder to have turned up in an aeon let alone to have made the final six of Australian Idol. Barely 17, at first you could mistake her Joanna Newsom/Hope Sandoval-mannered voice as a cheap cop-off, but when she talks - stiltedly but openly - it becomes apparent, this is her voice. And what an instrument it is. Somehow taking lyrics that a 17-year old would burn in embarrassment and making them into gorgeously captivating paeans to her sister (Hey Now), growing up (Sometimes I Feel Like Alice) and a good night's sleep (Incomplete Lullaby) she is disarmingly honest and, though undeniably quirky, it's refreshingly genuine quirk. Transfixing the largely seated audience (many of whom seemed to have traveled down from Mitchell's hometown of Albury) seems second nature to her already and though there were a few bum chords, a lot of repeated lyrics and the underwhelming new song See You When You Get Here, Mitchell is an undeniably compelling figure who clearly has been blessed by good sense and a keen eye for detail. Expect great things to become greater.