Don't Believe the Hype - A Splendour Review [Part 2]

Penfold Krackerbarral continues to bring you the real events that made up 2010's Splendour in the Grass festival. If you missed yesterday's madness, you can read it by clicking here.

SATURDAY
After the awesomeness of yesterday, I wake at the suitable time of 12 noon and roll out of my tent to see that someone has used the side of my tent as a urinal during the night. As the waft of urine makes its way through my nasal passage, I raise my fist to the sky and curse Ben Harper’s name. I know he probably didn’t do it, but still, I feel justified in blaming him. I take a belt of whiskey from my hip flask and set off towards the stages once again.

I wander past the Triple J enclosure. I note the Doctor parading around in a three-piece suit interviewing celebrities. I liked this guy better when he was in Frenzal Rhomb.

McFly are playing a set. An hour long set. Who in the hell invited these pituitary retards to this ‘music’ festival? I note one Rio Lobotomy follows their set, and I pray to almighty Jesus that this is some kind of live brain removal operation on the members of McFly. Failing that, I think I might have to get one if I am forced to sit through a McFly set.

Thankfully, I’m not, and exercising my rational judgement chooses to go see the latest flash in the pan, Two Door Cinema Club. These guys are from Northern Ireland, and when not making music that features a bit too much keyboards, they’re thinking up snazzy band names like the aforementioned ‘Two Door Cinema Club’ or ‘Four Door Electric Hatchback’ or ‘Eight Legged Mechanical Esky’. They play a song called ‘I Can Talk’ which is funny because they cannot sing, nor play instruments. Perhaps that's the only thing they can do?


The Philadelphia Grand Jury take their jobs very seriously.

Philadelphia Grand Jury arrive on the amphitheatre. This time they’ve brought the entire bench of the Philadelphia Supreme Court, and instead of playing their hit songs which are ever so popular, they decide to court-marshal Julia Stone live on stage, charging her with manslaughter over the “accidental” shooting death of Andrew Stockdale from the previous day. She gets off lightly, sentenced to 100 hours of community service and a mandatory “emu parade” at the end of the festival. Philadelphia Grand Jury are harsh…but fair.

Lunchtime again. Today I opt for the Dagwood dog, which only costs me $20 plus my first-born child. I laugh inwardly – don’t those carnie merchants know that Ben Harper’s music has rendered me sterile? The joke is on them.

Tame Impala are here to wow the crowd with their psychedelia. Halfway through ‘Lucidity’, I have a lucid moment combined with an existential crisis Why did I come to this festival? Am I simply dreaming? Why don’t I look more like Leonardo diCaprio? My mind wanders for what seems like 16 weeks but is actually only about 2 seconds. Still, I can’t really remember how the Tame Impala ended. Weird.

Wolfmother had to cancel. Understandable considering their bandleader was killed the previous day. Instead, the organisers opt to put on a Black Sabbath record and everyone seems pleased.

Well, well well. Guess who is next - yup! It's Art V Science. These guys have a song called ‘Parlez Vous Francais’, probably one of the most annoying songs ever created. You can imagine some French band getting huge in France by simply singing a song in English that goes ‘Do You Speak English?”. It sounds pretty stupid to us, doesn’t it?

It always strikes me as humourous asking someone if they speak French…in French…I mean, it just won’t work out if they don’t, will it? Really they should be asking ‘Do you speak just enough French to realise that I’m asking you if you understand what I’m saying?” Anyway, Art V Science finishes with yet again no conclusive evidence as to which discipline has triumphed over the other.


Florence + the Machine want this dog TO DIE!!!

Florence + the Machine is some kind of equation. I do notice bad algebra when I see it – where is the resultant expression? Let me solve it for you. Florence + the Machine = shithouse. They play a song about how the dog’s days are numbered or over or something, which is presumably about euthanizing dogs. Get the RSPCA on the line! Not only are they pro-killing canines, but also they have the audacity to write popular music about it.

Band of Horses are a misnomer. I arrive at the GW McLennan stage expectant to see this group of talented equines, but it turns out that they are actually humans. No horse can be seen anywhere. I’m pretty peeved and find it hard to concentrate. When I pay $500 to see a band of talented horses, I expect a fucking band of horses! At least wear some kind of horse head costume! Even a camel suit like in Jonathan Richman’s 'Egyptian Reggae' clip would have sufficed.

More Camel Needed from Band of Horses

Julian Casablancas has the coolest name in the history of names. His band, the Strokes, play popular garage rock music, the type of music that spawned such awesome groups as Jet. During the middle of ‘New York City Cop’s Julian dives horizontally across the stage, Raiden-from- Mortal-Kombat style, and giving Albert Hammond Jr a fatality. Apparently they haven’t been getting along that well lately. The set ends abruptly and people return to their tents to scratch their heads over the antics they had seen this day.

Come back tomorrow for details of the final day! It will be gangbusters!

Don't Believe the Hype - Splendour in the Grass: A Review?

Hola! I'm Penfold Krackerbarral and I went to Splendour in the Grass. I've packaged together some of my thoughts for Daz's benefit.

Thursday
I arrive at my campsite late on Thursday night and pitch my one-man tent. I’m crammed up against the male toilets next to a group of people who’ve been sitting around drinking beer for most of the day. They’re busy telling each other about how much more superior their musical taste than the average festival punter. I do end up confused because despite such claims, many in this aforementioned group feel compelled to state repeatedly how much they’re looking forward to watching Mumford & Sons the next day. To tell you the truth, I’d prefer watching Garry MacDonald and Ruth Cracknell do a 45 minute enactment of the best of ‘Mother & Son’ on the main Splendour stage than catch the aforementioned winners of the Triple J’s “hottest 100” of 2009. I roll my eyes and return to the safety of my fortress of solitude. I’m a tired mofo.


Mother & Son - far superior to Mumford & Sons

You see, I left Brisbane 12 hours earlier; arrived at the grounds an hour later, then spent 11 hours in a holding queue. I almost died of thirst, but was lucky enough to have enough distilled urine to prolong my feeble existence, a trick I learned from the ever-helpful ‘Man v Wild’ television series.

Friday – Day One

I’m up at the crack of dawn. I’m not missing Jinja Safari for the world. These guys won some competition presided over by Richard Kingsmill, future leader of North Korea. Ironically, despite being the first band on the bill, Jinja Safari is probably the best of the entire festival. It’s a shame that not many people are here to see them.

I stick around to see local grunge band Violent Soho sans Thurston Moore. They have a song about Jesus stealing girlfriends, which is historically inaccurate at least in a literal sense. They pretty much rock the fuck out and rip a few bottoms apart here and there.

British India play a set typical of a band who admire colonialism. Included in the setlist is an anti-Gandhi anthem, another song about bringing civilisation to the savages and a folk-esque tune that looks into the fiscal benefits of exploiting the third world. Actually, all of that might not be true, as I cannot remember any of their set because I fell asleep.

Megan Washington looks like an attractive female Beatle, judging by her haircut. She plays some songs and does a great Abby Dobson impression; everyone is holding hands and slapping each other on the back. ‘Yeah, we’re cool!’

I take a break for lunch, and spend $40 on a hotdog. It cost me $10 for some bbq sauce as well. Good value for money. It’s fortunate that I budgeted $5,000 to attend this festival. Who needs two kidneys anyway?

I return to the GW McLennan tent to catch Midlake. They emerge from stage left dressed as 19th century American puritans, pitchforks in hand. They don’t actually play guitars, instead opting to shovel hay for 45 minutes. Still, their set is more enjoyable than Angus and Julia Stone.

Angus has been getting around in a beard of late, attempting to look like Devendra Banhart. Julia gets in on the act, playing their entire set with a large bushranger-style beard. During ‘Mango Tree’, Julia dons a Ned Kelly style metal helmet, a long brown jacket, completing her outfit with two holstered pistols. Near the end of the set, she leaves her piano and ambles towards the side of stage, firing two shots into celebrity onlookers, mortally wounding Andrew Stockdale from Wolfmother. The crowd rejoices at this development, but joy soon turns to melancholy, as Julia is taken away in shackles.


Police sketch artist depiction of a murderous Julia Stone approaching Andrew Stockdale

One of two horse themed bands here at Splendour, Foals attempt to engage the crowd by catapulting a horse carcass into the mosh pit. Screams of joy turn to screams of agony as a 900-pound horse crushes several Foals fans. This naturally puts a dampener on proceedings and the usually upbeat ‘Spanish Sahara’ takes on more somber tones.

The Temper Trap hit the main stage to play a bunch of songs they stole from U2 and now pass off as their own. Still, the crowd gathered round the main stages are excited. ‘Sweet Disposition’ goes down as expected, with the surprise appearance of the Edge, who parachutes from 20,000 feet and lands directly on to the main stage in order to operate guitarist Lorenzo Sillitto’s digital delay pedal.

It’s getting dark now and that means the vampires are out. Worryingly, I note several blood-drained corpses left willy-nilly in the mandatory festival recycle bins. I shake my head with a sense of disappointment: you can’t recycle that!


Bears are usually a OH&S nightmare, particularly at large Australian music festivals.

Grizzly Bear played a great set, mostly comprising of their work from 2009’s acclaimed record Veckatimist. To heighten audience suspense, the group let loose several untamed grizzlies, brought with them all the way from Alaska. Much like the Foals debacle earlier in the day, things don't go to plan, with several punters being mauled throughout the duration of the set. Lucky St. John’s Ambulance was on hand to issue band-aids and re-attach limbs. The set ends with a cracking version of ‘While You Wait for the Others’.

Ben Harper & the Restless 7 close out day one proceedings. You know what? I can hazard a guess as to why the Restless 7 are restless. It could be because they’re beginning to realise how crap it is being in a band with Ben Harper. I stay for about 10 minutes before wandering off to find some thalidomide. I must purge these memories.

Day one comes to a conclusion and I feel fortunate to be alive.

[To be continued]

Live Review: Seja, Otouto @ The Troubadour

It has been a while since I've been to the valley for a gig. You can insert the typical excuse of a full time student / misanthrope here. But given that I needed a break from the usual drag of my life, I was compelled to pay a visit to the Troubadour to witness Seja perform tracks from her debut record "We Have the Secrets but Nobody Cares". Along for the ride was a couple of friends including fellow blogger Ling Ling of Passionate Sounds. Due to a late dinner of vietnamese (food, not people) and a few brews at the "new" Rics (my first visit since its revamp, I'm a bit taken aback by the changes), I missed the opportunity to see BigStrongBrute perform the opening act. Apologies.

Dressed something akin to the twins in Kubrick's "The Shining", the twins of Otouto play an interesting set of dreamlike pop music featuring many strange keyboard noises. There is something beautifully eerie about this set: it was hypnotic, it was bjork-ish, it was grand. 'Spot' and 'W.Hillier' were highlights, and the performance was strong enough to convince me to look into purchasing their record. While I got the feeling some of the crowd didn't know exactly what to make of the trio, I believe that this could be a group to keep an eye on in the coming months and years.

Local girl Seja is well known in Brisbane city. Part of the strangely-absent Sekiden and keybasher for institution Regurgitator, she's put out a pretty interesting debut solo record which includes the stellar single "I'll Get To You". Merideth, from the sadly defunct Delpino, joins Seja on guitar, keyboard and handclaps and the group sway through the majority of the tracks from the record.

It is a synth fest tonight. While there seems to be a few small technical hitches that occasionally break the flow of the set, there are highlights to be had, particularly the German-spoken "We Haben Geheimnisse" and "Sing Me the Song Like You Said" and of course "I'll Get to You". Seja also switches to guitar to perform a great Arbuckle cover whose title eludes me (anyone know which one it was?). Concluding with a 'We Can't See Past Our Hands', Seja and Merideth perform a strange little dance which looks like a combination of that playground slap routine kids played in primary school and the macarena. It must be seen to be believed.

A bit rough around the edges, but a fairly worthwhile evening out. I was satisfied, yet weary from the late finishing time. I guess I'm getting old.

You may like to have a listen to Seja's debut record which is available in all good records stores.

View York: Wild Beasts, Evan Dando and the Magnetic Fields

Folks, it has been some time. As some of you may know, I have been in New York City for the past two and a half months interning at the United Nations. Unfortunately, the full-time work and full time social responsibilities endemic to New York have put the brakes on any music blogging. However, as I’m back in Brisbane, I can continue the usual ramble of meaningless thoughts on popular music.

New York is one of the best places to catch live music. Literally you can see a great band nearly every night of the week for a bargain price, something that in Brisbane, Australia, you may not be able to do. Side note: literally I’ve been overusing the word ‘literally’ to the point where I want to rip my tongue out. I blame a few of my New York compadres for covertly inserting it in my vernacular. Yeah, you know who you are!

I have a few gigs that I attended during my NYC visit that I wish to speak about. I already covered Jonathan Richman a few weeks ago, but I did manage to go see Wild Beasts, Evan Dando and The Magnetic Fields during this sojourn to Obama’s Revolutionary Empire.

WILD BEASTS


Several weeks ago, my good pal Gabe got me to tag along to see an entertaining UK indie band Wild Beasts. What makes them particularly distinctive is Hayden Thorpe’s distinctive countertenor voice, something that is unusual in today’s modern ‘indie’ world. While unusual, I eventually grew used to Thorpe’s eunuch braying – it mixed well with the Morrisey-esque baritone of Tom Fleming.

Playing most of their sophomore record “Two Dancers” (which is quite good by the way), Wild Beasts meander their way through a range of dreamlike ballads that seem to revolve around working class subjects and working class people. As Gabe aptly pointed out, they evoke memories of Talking Heads. Unfortunately, at the time, I wasn’t familiar with their records, so cannot allude to the songs they played. However, the title of the concluding song is obvious, the band finishing with the delicious sing-along ballad suitably entitled 'Cheerio Chaps'.

In addition, I must point out that the support act Violins were also very enjoyable to watch. All in all, a very good night. (thanks Gabe!)



EVAN DANDO

I managed to also catch Lemonheads alumni Evan Dando in an acoustic solo gig at the Mercury Lounge in Lower East side Manhattan onMArch 8th. There was a plethora of supports (well, three), a factor that pushed Dando to a late start. However, due to some technical and transport problems, Dando only manages to hit the stage circa midnight and proceeds to play a two hour plus set. Unfortunately, due to excesses the night before; I ended up struggling my way through most of this Dando’s late set.

I’ve seen Dando play with the Lemonheads during their reforming tour in Australia a few years back. I was a bit disappointed in that effort and I didn’t have high expectations for this performance. As it turns out, I needn’t have been so pessimistic. Dando plays a remarkably well paced set consisting mostly of Lemonheads songs, something that struck me as strange considering he didn't when he was performing with that actual band in the aforementioned Australian tour!.

Starting off with a beautiful rendition of 'The Outdoor Type', he reels his way through 'If I Could Talk', 'Big Gay Heart', 'Alison’s Starting to Happen', 'Tenderfoot' and a plethora of other classics, including my own personal favourite 'Down About It' from “Come on Feel the Lemonheads”. At the conclusion of 'My Drug Buddy', Dando reveals that the ‘King Street’ referred to in the song is not actually King Street in New York, nor London, but actually the King Street in Newtown, Sydney.

2.30am rolls around and Dando doesn’t look like he was going to stop anytime soon. My body forces me to leave – I *literally* could not keep my eyes open. As Dando begins a version of ‘Skulls’, I decide to head for home, completely satisfied.

THE MAGNETIC FIELDS

For what seems like eons, I’ve always wanted to catch The Magnetic Fields in the live arena. They’ve just released what is a solid album, “Realism” (which I by far prefer to "Distortion"), concluding what is called Stephin Merrit’s no synth trilogy (I, Distortion, Realism).

The venue is Town Hall, just off Times Square, a beautiful theatre apt for hosting the Magnetic Fields. It’s a strictly no nonsense affair, the band lining up side by side, in a row across the stage. No out-and-out percussive instruments are on stage – Merrit has a condition that makes him sensitive to overly loud noise – the band utilises keys, guitar, cello and ukulele. Merrit plays the ukulele exclusively and runs through a setlist which features songs from much of the Magnetic Fields back catalog albeit with the songs in a more stripped back, non-produced format (obviously to accommodate only the instruments and voices on display).

I’m writing this a few weeks after the event and the setlist is hard to recall exactly. They do draw from their wide ranging back catalog, playing songs from "69 Love Songs", "I", "Realism", "Holiday", and "The Wayward Bus" amongst others. The highlights include 'Kiss Me Like You Mean It', 'I Don’t Really Love You Anymore', 'You, Me and the Moon', and my own personal favourite 'I Don’t Want to Get Over You'. The revel in a dose of humour, playing 'Wi’ Nae Wee Bairn Ye’ll Me Beget', which produces stifles of laughter from the appreciative audience. Without a doubt, the best song of the night is 'Fear of Trains' from "Charm of the Highway Strip".

Merritt has the reputation of being a sourpuss. He engages in some ‘banter’ with his fellow musician, his body language often insinuating they’re annoying, but its hard to tell if its genuine or not. Regardless, the show is quite brilliant, the crowd lapping up the stripped-down devotions to love and other related disasters. I leave, one happy chappy.

Jonathan Richman @ The Music Hall of Williamsburg

For many, Jonathan Richman will always be that guy who played funny songs in the Farrelly brothers 90s comedy "There’s Something About Mary". If you’ve seen that movie, you’ll have a pretty good idea of what kind of music Richman produces: acoustic ballads that focus on the minutia of life and love.

That is a pretty accurate description of the majority of Richman’s work in a career that spans over 40 years. Some might write off his contribution to popular music as trivial, but that is hardly fair. His band The Modern Lovers are widely credit with influencing the emerging punk scene both in America and the UK. I’m not sure how true that may be, but listening to that groups signature tune 'Roadrunner', one can perhaps see the connections.

Last night I journeyed into the dark heart of Brooklyn to witness the final night of Richman’s three night residency at the Music Hall of Williamsburg. A quaint little venue with an appealing bar underneath the concert hall with reasonably priced beer including happy hours before and after the set, even if the staff can be a bit inefficient in serving a beer drinking twit like myself (it had to be said – I missed the first two songs of Jonathan’s set due to said inefficiency).

Despite my fondness for Richman’s eccentric back catalog, I had approached this gig with some trepidation. I knew that it would only be him and a drummer, and I was skeptical that he could fill one and a half hours with songs about Ice Creams without seeming a little bit tired. Well folks, in the end, I was proved wrong, because what followed was something truly enjoyable.

Jonathan rolls through an array of songs, drifting seamlessly from his Modern Lovers days into his extensive library of solo material. The highlight of the night has to be Richman’s tribute to Dutch artist Johannes Vermeer ('No One Was Like Vermeer') which is punctuated with clever little lyrics explaining that Vermeer’s 17th century paintings felt "more like 1897 or 1910". 'Vermeer..' segues into a brief rendition of 'Egyptian Reggae' before drifting into the only Something About Mary track of the set 'Let Her Go Into the Darkness'. The crowd goes mental when Jonathan strums the opening chords of 'I was Dancing in a Lesbian Bar' and joins in at the appropriate moments, much to Richman's obvious delight. Modern Lovers track 'Pablo Picasso' is also performed with similar aplomb.

"Pablo Picassso was never called an asshole"

Keeping time with percussionist Tommy does not seem to be a high priority. Strangely it seems suitable to Richman’s randomness. Tommy expertly changes rhythm to account for Richman’s impulsive little dances and cowbell solos. All of this proves highly amusing. Even more amusing is Richman’s constant claim to the audience is that "this is not a concert, you can do and say anything you want." Someone calls his bluff, being Valentines Day and all, and hands Richman a bundle of roses.

I don’t claim to know every single song in the setlist. There were a few songs sung in a mixture of English/Spanish/French as Richman is known to do, and a lot of songs about love and love lost. Disappointingly for me, none of "Her Mystery Not Of High Heels and Eye Shadow" appears ('Springtime in New York' would have been almost appropriate).

Despite this, the show was not only funny, engaging and delightfully indulgent in nostalgia, it also served to demonstrate that songs about eccentric subjects such as renaissance art and beaches and buying a pair of jeans can be as enjoyable and powerful as those who write songs about 'serious' subjects like war or politics. Thats what music is all about, having a good time.

With that, I leave you with a dancing camel.

Thanks to Lisa for allowing me to use her pictures!

Sunset Sounds: Day 2

Many had been more impressed by the lineup for day two of Sunset Sounds. On face value, day two had more popular international acts, but I don’t think it was any more hugely superior to day one (which was quite good).

I arrived in time to see the start of locals Hungry Kids of Hungary, who were, once again, playing their great brand of 60s inspired indie rock. This band, in combination with a soothing mild ale, were a great way to kick off what was an incredible night.

I was very impressed by multi-instrumentalist Andrew Bird's 2009 record “Noble Beast” and his inclusion on the bill was one of the main reasons for me going to Sunset Sounds. Turns out, I was not disappointed. While arguably it took a while for Mr Bird to get into the swing of things, by the time 'Anonanimal' gets introduced, we’re beginning to see the real musical genious behind Andrew Bird. Truthfully, he is a phenomenal musician.

I managed to catched melbournians Oh Mercy, whose debut album was a great little release. Despite the smallish crowd, I found their set enjoyable. While perhaps Alexander Gow needs to improve his crowd banter, their breezy pop music is perfect for the late afternoon heat. 'Seemed Like a Good Idea' and 'Get You Back' are highlights.

Wandering around the grounds, I heard Lisa Mitchell play a dire cover of Dire Strait’s “Romeo and Juliet”. I watched perhaps three songs of Yves Klien Blue’s set at the hibiscus stage and before the urge for nausea nearly overcame me. Look, I'm sorry, but I just cannot get anything from this band. When one song is described as being about “really good sex”, I decided I’d had enough.

While I could write a thesis on the Grizzly Bear set, I have to say it was one of the best shows I’ve ever seen. This is truly a special band. Excuse the melodrama, but this set induced some raging reflective emotions that have rarely appeared within my conscious during live music. I can’t describe it any better than this – it was overwhelmingly brilliant.

So I head over to Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Despite my dislike of the band and their songs (apart from the quite good A-Trak remix of “Heads Will Roll”), I decide to give them another chance. Perhaps it was a bit premature. Apart from the last ten minutes of the set, I didn’t enjoy any of it. Their music seems derivative, tired and is more about posteuring than anything artistic. Of course, coming from Grizzly Bear half hour before, anything was going to look poor by comparison.

Well, in summation, Sunset Sounds was fairly good. The highlights were Grizzly Bear, Andrew Bird, and Dappled Cities.

Of course, that’s just what I think. What did you think?

Sunset Sounds: Day 1

So last week was pretty mad. Not only am I preparing to leave for the States next week, I had to move out of my house on the weekend, leaving little time for pretty much anything really. However, I did get time to head to Sunset Sounds festival for some R&R before I depart. Here is my quick view on some of the performances that I witnessed.

I walked in on the first day to catch the last song of what looked liked a great set from local group DZ. From there, I headed over with my good friend Andy to see the end of what turned out to be a fairly disappointing performance from The Middle East. Despite the large crowded gathered to see them, I felt a distinct lack of engagement. In fact, they looked quite tired.

My small group of friends swung by to see Dappled Cities play at the Hibiscus stage. I’d see Dappled Cities play a few years back and I had found them boring back then. Times have changed though. They put on, what I believe, one of the best sets of any bands at the festival. Guitarist Tim not only rocked his usually high falsetto, but also a mean set of boardshorts. Many of the songs of the latest album “Zounds” were performed to perfection.

Norwegian geek-rockers, Datarock, were creating a storm at the Riverstage, employing their usual brand of fun filled disco-dancing tunes. Every time I see them, I always reflect on the uncanny resemblance between the keyboardist and my friend D. Kelso. I swear to god he is playing in Datarock.

Emiliana Torrini played a soulful set which, in retrospect, was just what I needed considering the number of alcoholic beverages I had consumed during the afternoon. She played the garden stage as the sun was setting, and it was quite enjoyable. I’m not the biggest fan, but I thought she, and her band, played very well. The singles from “Fisherman’s woman” (Heartstopper and Sunny Road) got a good response.

Not really having much to do except to wait for Moby to start, I wandered over to the Riverstage where Hilltops Hoods were playing. I don’t particularly like Hilltop Hoods so it could be expected that I don’t have much positive to say about their set. To me, all their songs sound are made up of the following formula: Song seemingly about “drinking beers” + beats + panpipe sample + frequent yell outs to “DJ Debris” as well as name checking themselves. That said, many people were gyrating like limping baboons, enjoying themselves. So who am I to complain eh?

I had been told Moby always puts on a great show. Though I wasn’t expecting much, I got more out of it than I thought possible, but perhaps less than what I should have believed from the amount of hype he got. He started off well, but his frequent allusions to his own genius soon got tiring. ‘Bodyrock’, ‘Go’ and ‘We’re all Made of Stars’ made the setlist. He did do a cover of ‘Ring of Fire’ and played a punk-song he wrote when he was 17, both that I found more appealing than the rave mania numbers that closed out his set.

With the benefit of hindsight, I should have gone saw Rodrigo y Gabriella whom I’m told were phenomenal. Damn.

Thus ended Sunset Sounds, day one. My thoughts on day two to follow.

Review: Future of the Left - Live @ The Zoo 03/01/2010

Jonathan Chapelle enters the Zoo stage right wielding his bass like some kind of infantry weapon and shouts at the crowd “We’re fucking Belle and Sebastian”. What follows is an onslaught of punk-edged aggression from legendary, and now sadly departed, welsh alternate rock group mclusky. That was 2004.

In 2010 you’ll find that mclusky has long since dissolved. It seems that guitarist/vocalist Falco* and Chapelle were unable to work together after a bust up over some stolen equipment while on tour in the States. Chapelle moved to Australia, while Falco and the other member of the mclusky triad, drummer Jack Egglestone, linked up with ex-Jarcrew bassist Kelson Mathias to form Future of the Left, a band which weaves intense tales about unknown and perhaps deranged individuals with names such as Rick and Colin channeled through distorted and bouncy bass lines and chainsaw-like guitar riffs. Thus far, they’ve released two excellent records, “Curses” (2007) and “Travels with Myself and Another” (2009). They graced to the Zoo in Brisbane this week to share a few saucy tales. And what a fine night of entertainment it was.

Unfortunately, I’m too late to catch local stalwarts Giants of Science. I arrived at 9.30pm, immediately ordered two scotch and ginger ales and found a spot at a decent distance from the stage hoping to avoid the mosh pit onslaught that will inevitably follow with the emergence of the headliners. Always punctual, Future of the Left arm themselves with instruments on the dot of 9.45, and immediately smash into “Travels…” opener ‘Arming Eritrea’ with the trademark scathing guitar and bass attack. This is quickly followed by ‘Chin Music’, and the brutal ‘Small Bones, Small Bodies’.

Much of “Travels with Myself any Another” is on display tonight, including a great version of ‘Stand by Your Manatee’ as well as ‘I am Civil Service’. Songs from “Curses” also get a good run, the roof of the Zoo nearly lift during ‘Plagues of Onces’. Later in the set, Mathias gives the crowd the option of ‘The Lord Hates a Coward’ or ‘Drink Nike’. How democratic. The crowd selects the latter with a voracious roar of approval.

Falco gives his voice a bit of a beating as he screeches in time to the razor-sharp sound of his own guitar. I’m surprised he hasn’t ripped his voice box to shreds by now. He switches to his Roland Juno-60 keyboard to perform ‘Manchasm’, ‘You Need Satan More than He Needs You’ as well as ‘Yin/Post Yin’, and a song that drummer Jack is fonder of than his band companions. I know because they make it plainly obvious in the pre-song banter.

Speaking of banter, Falco and Mathias are both genuinely funny guys readily engaging in tirades or making mock observations about the state of the world as we know it, exchanging verbal spars between themselves and with the crowd. At one stage Mathias takes a gift of a bottle of ballatynes scotch from a punter in the crowd morosely hoping that it is not laced with rohypnol. During another pause in the set, Falco pauses to expresses his admiration and desire for Susan Boyle. By the end of their regular set, the band announce that they don’t usually do encores, but state that when they walk off, should the crowd make a limp attempt to applaud, they would be back on in under two minutes.

Things proceed exactly as directed, and they emerge to finish the night off with a few short numbers such as ‘The Hope that House Built’ amongst what turns out to be an extended noise jam in which Falco gradually moves parts of Egglestone’s drumkit to different sections of the stage , reducing the percussionist to simply a hit-hat at one stage. Though, that doesn’t stop him from beating the living crap out of his cymbals though.

Might as well close the books on the ‘best Zoo performance of 2010’ award already, I’m not sure if any band in 2010 will top Future of the Left’s efforts on this sweaty January night.

* Not the same character from the Nintendo game Starfox, but certainly a character.

The Pugs, Dead Riot, Wheat Paste, Isaac Graham @ Browning Street Studios.

I'm sitting here nursing a slight hangover and watching early morning Rage on Channel 2. It is being guest programmed by some unnamed woman in her late forties who is obviously still stuck in the 1980s. I'm barraged a crushing wall of 80s pop hits featuring the likes of INXS, Eurthymics as well as a terrible Fine Young Cannibals cover of "Suspicious Minds". As I type, Run DMC are battling Aerosmith on the subject of appropriate ambulatory etiquette. It is all a bit depressing really. Oh shit, here comes Billy Idol.

Much to my livers despair, I attended the Browning Street Studios last night to see a friend massage his bow along a cello along with some other musical types. I admit that I was partially sold the gig by the venue's generous licensing (BYO) which in these "tough economic times" make the more financially prudent members of the Brisbane's social tapestry (i.e. me) more inclined such bargains. If you haven't been to the Browning Street Studios, the venue is nothing much more than a rehearsal room in a house with a PA system that may need a coat of paint or at least a few strategically placed posters on the walls. They did have an interesting cat-like sculpture in the toilet. Dave was convinced it was a leopard but I'm still unsure.

Tonights line-up featured four performances by four bands/artists - The Pugs, Dead Riot, Wheat Paste and Isaac Graham [Links below]. I'd never heard any of them before, nor any of their music, so excuse the following hodgepodge summary of the gig.

Despite the vocals being nearly unintelligible, I did enjoy the set by local punk band The Pugs. They got the whole Pogues thing going on, mixing traditional music with punk-rock aesthetics. Some fun songs, such as 'Rentre Chez Toi', feature some interesting instrumentation such as upright electric bass, mandolin, piano accordion, banjo, concertina, and with the more obvious drums and guitars. The highlight of their set had to be the closing instrumental number that witnessed the demonstration of some dexterous piano accordion proficiencies from a man with more interesting facial hair than my own.

Dead Riot are a punk band who tonight are allegedly performing "unplugged". However, I still see someone playing an electric guitar that is most definitely turned on. Its all so confusing and reminds me of the time when Cobain played an electric guitar on his version of 'Man Who Sold the World' on "Unplugged in New York". That confused the fuck out of everyone. My friend Harry added some cello skills to the songs which fleshed out the sound more, and particularly filled the sonic space made evident by the missing bass. In relation to the set, I enjoyed the first half, which featured more upbeat and faster music, more so than the second half, which became more reflective and brooding. But then again, thats the type of guy I am. I like the more energetic numbers. I cannot comment on which individual songs stood out due to the fact that the more acoustic nature of the gig makes it hard to correspond what my alcohol sodden memory tells me with the tunes on the Dead Riot arse-space page.

Unfortunately, during Wheat Paste’s set, I was outside drinking tallies. From what I could hear, it sounded entertaining. Sorry!

Isaac Graham is from Sydney. He is also a good bloke. He gave me a beer when I had run out and this immediately endears him to me. Graham plays an impassioned set of storytelling acoustic numbers in the vein of Paul Kelly and Billy Bragg. Harry chimes in from time to time with a few strokes of his cello bow., but otherwise, it’s the Graham show here. “When I Find Gold” is a highlight.

My night was then rounded out by attempting to get a taxi home from the dead zone of West End, negotiating some pizza slices from a local take out joint, and performing some impromptu acrobatics at the local commonwealth bank branch. Not necessarily in that order though. My knee really hurts this morning for some reason.

Both Isaac and Dead Riot play tonight at the clubhouse in the Valley, so if you have nada to do, perhaps you may feel like checking them out.


Arse-Space Links.
Dead Riot -http://www.myspace.com/deadriotrock
The Pugs - http://www.myspace.com/thebrisbanepugs
Isaac Graham - http://www.myspace.com/isaacgraham
Wheat Paste - http://www.myspace.com/wheatpasteband

Last Dinosaurs, The Boat People, Red Riders @ The Globe

Visiting the Globe Theatre in Fortitude Valley during the Brisbane summer is much like a trip to the jungles of Southeast Asia.

The heat can be intense. My vision is swimming as people in top hats frolic in the lobby. Much like many other Brisbane venues, the Globe is not exactly the most comfortable place to be once the mercury hits the high twenties. However, several months of university-imposed isolation from the live music arena gives me the fortitude to ignore the ill comforts of this sweat pit. I’m at the Globe to check out Last Dinosaurs, The Boat People and Red Riders.

Last Dinosaurs are anything but relics from the cretaceous period, but rather a young foursome who play ever-so-nice indie pop rock. A friend of mine actually told me about these guys about a year ago and I’ve always been keen to see what they were like sur l'étape. I had been itching to see if their live show matched the quality of the songs available to listen to via their ArseSpace page.

My co-pilot JM Donellan can taste traces of Futureheads within the reverbed punctuated indie pop songs. I delineate flavours of surf rock. Regardless of genealogy, which seems so important in modern day contemporary music for some reason, the show is very solid. Upcoming single ‘As Far As You’re concerned’ appears early in the set. While the band briefly falters during ‘Honolulu’, the set is otherwise very solid. A promising band who will no doubt receive much more pundit attention in the coming years.

There is a fairly quick turnaround, and Brisbane stalwarts The Boat People enter stage right brandishing instruments and playing many songs from their latest record “Chandeliers”. I haven’t heard this particularly record, but going on the strength of what is performed tonight, I can only assume that it is fairly good. ‘Born in the 80s’ and ‘Panic’ are played with much gusto. Keyboard dude Robin announces the imminent performance of new song ‘Echo Stick Guitars’, a song they haven’t played much live allegedly but comes off sounding smooth as sugar. Guitarist Charles, whom I got some lessons off a few years back, is fully engrossed in the performance, intent on hitting all the correct notes. Such technical proficiency is a hallmark of the Boat People, a band obvious well used to live performance.

Not much of “yesyesyesyesyes” is evident in tonight’s set with only ‘Unsettle My Heart’ managing to make the cut. It is an enjoyable performance but once again I’m haunted by something that I’ve always felt about the Boaties. Their songs are good, some very good, but do not quite reach the heights of other indie pop bands like, say, the Shins. I know, a lofty comparison, but I guess I really want them to be that good. I can’t really put my finger on the exact fashion in which they are deficient. Still, I must admit, they are consistently better than many of their contemporaries.

The cowds of barely post-pubescent girls should have told me something about Sydney band Red Riders. I had never heard any of their music apart from their great ‘Ordinary’, the strength of which has me attending the gig tonight in anticipation that other gems might lurk in the coiled springs of their instrument’s pickups. Not that “barely legal teens” don’t have any taste in music, many do, but often it seems their tastes do not converge with my own.

Three songs in and I am convinced they are an Expatriate cover band. Perhaps a trifle harsh, but I just felt that their set choice might not have been well thought out – many of the songs sounded so similar that I often found myself glancing towards the exist. Not a very good sign. ‘Ordinary’ appears near the end and somewhat changes the dynamics of the set, mostly optimistically. However, in the end I’m left feeling disappointed.

Truth is, I wanted to like them, they all seemed like such affable guys who genuinely liked being on stage, but perhaps this was just a bum night.

Phoenix: Live at the Enmore 2009

“So, how do you think the show will turn out tonight, Mr. Mars?”

“Well, I’m going get changed, eat a croissant, go out on the stage and rock the fucking shit out of the place.”

“Wow, that’s some plan.”

Extract from my made up interview with Thomas Mars, lead singer of Phoenix.

Actually, Thomas Mars probably wouldn’t be that crass. The vocalist for French indie-pop band Phoenix seems like too nice a guy to say anything that rude. His partner Sophia Coppola would probably wouldn’t be too impressed by that sort of language. And you don’t want to get Sophia angry, she might make a movie out of your private life.

It has been some time coming, but due to unforeseeable time constraints, my thoughts on Phoenix’s Enmore gig have been delayed nearly three and a bit weeks. Well, the wait is over. Aren’t you excited?

Sarcasm aside, Phoenix are riding a wave of well deserved praise following the release of their fourth studio album “Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix”, which followed the superb third album “It’s Never Been Like That”. If you’ve heard the latest record, you may agree with me when I say that is one of the most fun albums to be released this year. Their live show had a lot to live up too.

Fortunately, Phoenix delivered in spades, playing a show that I’m told was one of the most complete performances ever to grace the Enmore Theatre in Sydney. This being my first visit to the venue, I cannot say whether it was or not, but I can say that it was FREAKING AWESOME.

I arrived at 9pm, slightly boozed I must say, being that my pal Derek and I had consumed a few pitchers of lager prior to the trip out to Newtown. Luckily, we’ve inadvertently timed our attack run to perfection, arriving just in time to see the band hit the stage.

Phoenix open with Listzomania, inspiring the crowd into the sort of mania that the song derives its name from. From there, it’s a feast of danceable hits. Songs from their last two albums dominate the show, though 'Funky Square Dance' from ‘United’ debuts early in the set. Thomas Mars occasionally addresses the crowd between songs in a cordial and generally 'I'm glad to be here' manner, but chatter is kept to relative minimum. The music does all the talking, and it is clear that the band revel in their art. One cannot but notice the controlled ferocity of their drummer, as he beats the skins like man possessed by Romanian gypsy demons. After a rousing version of 'Too Young', 'Girlfriend' and the six-minute almost instrumental 'Love Like Sunset', Phoenix close their set with 'Rome' to rapturous applause.

As can be expected, the crowd demand more, and Thomas Mars returns to the stage to perform a slower tempo version of 'Everything is Everything', before the rest of the band join him on stage to blast out 'If I Ever Feel Better', from which I suspect that many people die of pure joy. The night is brought to a close with the lead single from the latest album, '1901', and many happy punters vacate the Enmore. I certainly was quite satisfied.

Decoder Ring, Bridezilla @ The Zoo, Brisbane, August 22, 2009

Are Decoder Ring the Australian incarnation of Scottish post-rock maniacs Mogwai? There are certainly a lot of similarities – long epic jam-outs devoid of vocals, melodies that seem to wash over you like acid, burning through your eardrums and knifing into the emotional response receptors of your brain. Regardless of the lofty comparisons, Decoder Ring are as equally enthralling as their northern hemisphere brethren.

A Decoder Ring concert is a dramatic, visceral, and enjoyable exercise. I’ve managed to catch them a number of times but their recent set at the Zoo was the first time I’ve seen them in the post-Lenka, fully instrumental guise. I was a bit sceptical about how they would go about pulling this off, but I should not have been. After all, the band started off as an instrumental electronic-rock act.

As any aspiring music critic does, I arrive too late to catch the first support, whom I’m told on good authority were quite enjoyable. A shame, really. Anyway, Sydney indie outfit Bridezilla, the primary support act, put on a worthy performance that caught me a bit unawares. I had managed to catch them at the Golden Plains festival earlier in the year and they seemed a bit unsure of themselves. However, this performance allayed my doubts. Front-woman Holiday Sidewinder and her Abbie Dobson-esque vocals are the stuff of teenage boy wet dreams, and the violins and saxophone provide fresh dynamics that make the songs, well, a lot more interesting than the usual triple-j ilk that seems to be doing the rounds at the moment. “Chainwork”, “St. Francine” and “Forth and Fine” make appearances during what is a very enjoyable set.

Decoder Ring manages to walk out on stage just before eleven o’clock to a crowd that both seem very appreciative and very inebriated. Actually, I was puzzled by the appearance so many people who seemed so outrageously drunk. For a brief moment I pondered if these characters might be Coldplay fans that had converted to the church of Decoder Ring after the band appeared supporting the British pop behemoths during their recent tour of the country. Of course, this relies on the assumption that Coldplay fans are all severe alcoholics, an argument backed up by the fact that I feel I have to be completely hammered to enjoy Chris Martin’s increasingly boring brand of pop-rock.

Decoder Ring play many of the songs from their recent album “They Blind the Stars, and the Wild Team”. Visual effects that rapidly flicker between cavorting horses and bird migrations keep the eyes occupied while the band plays epic song after epic song, repeating and converging melodies and sounds like they were going out of fashion. My personal favourite from the new record, “Charlotte Ramping” appears early in the set along with “And Grass Will Grow Over Your Cities”. Lead single “Beat the Twilight” prompts wild celebrations from a drunk guy next to me, causing him to shake his fists in the air with unbridled enthusiasm. An instrumental track from Somersault makes an appearance, before they take the foot off the pedal, playing some slower numbers like “Point No Point”. The highlight of the evening has to be the drum’n’bass infused “Serac” from “Fractions”, followed by distortion draped “Welcome Shoppers” from their first long player – arguably the two best songs of the night and cause bodies writhe with pleasure within a sweat dance pit, while senses are sucked out of people’s brains as Decoder Ring construct a gravitational singularity within the venue, and peoples minds’ are dragged beyond an event horizon. You could say I was somewhat impressed.

The band indulge the audience with a perfunctory encore and retire into the night, like gregarious vampires, never to be seen again…..at least until the next date on their Australian tour. They’re not Mogwai, but they are every bit as accomplished.

Quick Review: The Zebras / Je Suis Animal @ Rics Cafe, Brisbane

So I went along to Rics last night to catch The Zebras and Je Suis Animal. A friend of mine, who relocated to Melbourne a few years back, was up in Brisbane for a quick visit. He was also helping out The Zebras with some guitar and percussion work. So little excuse was required for me and a few other associates met up for a quick mid-strength brew and a yarn.

I had been informed by an acquaintance that Rics had ceased the pre-gig, early evening sound check. Rather, all that is offered is a quick sound check of headliner about an hour before they ‘officially’ go on. I’ve been away from Brisbane for some time so I’m not sure if this is simply recent phenomenon or has been going on for more than a year.

Presumably, the venue is trying to save money on employing a sound engineer, which makes some sense particularly in these tough financial times. It is a sign of the times in business nowadays - if anything goes wrong, you can simply blame the GFC.

Unfortunately, sound-checking at this time usually means it done around nine or nine-thirty at night when the bar is half packed. This inevitably gives little time to iron out the any small problems. I have to admit that the sound on this particular night wasn’t really that great at all. Perhaps, in the future Rics may reconsider this policy. I’m not sure, but I hope they do.

Anyway, enough of this boring sound-check policy moaning. To the bands I say!

The Zebras are operating as a three piece tonight – Jeremy, and the two Gregs. Nick Naughtin, the perennial Rics institution, gets up to play some drums for about three to four songs (at break-neck pace, it must be said). It was enjoyable enough – mostly because, as I suspect the band will admit, it wasn’t the most polished performance they’ve ever played. Still, everyone seemed to be all smiles.

The Zebras used to be somewhat of a staple on the Brisbane music scene before they relocated to Melbourne. They write quality pop songs, and no matter how unkempt a performance may be, strong songwriting can always still shine through (presumably that is why people still go to Bob Dylan concerts). We get treated to somewhat minimalist versions of their back catalogue – The Zebras usually have three guitarists strumming away, but tonight it is (mostly) only Jeremy on the six string duties. They complete their set with a rousing rendition of ‘Forces of Light (preloading)’, the opening track from their debut.

Je Suis Animal fair slightly better. These Norwegians play a brand of shoe-gaze ambient pop. I reckon that they sound a bit like Stereolab, or at least a nosier more psychedelic version of Stereolab, but I’m told I’m way off. Still, after seeing them last night, I’m going to stubbornly refuse to change my initial assessment.

Their set is enjoyable enough and those who’ve stuck around despite the sound issues are treated to a good session of pop tunes. Yes, even many of the songs included a discursive and perhaps over-use of the wah-pedal. ‘Secret Place’, ‘The Mystery of Marie Roget’, and ‘Fortune Map’ are performed during what is a solid set. The band finishing with the excellent ‘Hotel Electrique’.

I suppose it was an enjoyable enough night despite the sludgy sound. On the other hand, it was Rics and therefore free, which makes it even more of a bargain. If you’re in other parts of the country and are in the mood for procrastination, I’d recommend checking out Je Suis Animal as they pass through your town.

The Glastonbury '08 Report

Well, well. I’m well behind on my travel blogging, but I’ve decided to skip ahead and report some of the details of my recent adventure to the Glastonbury Festival of Contemporary Arts which I experienced for the first time during the past week.

Glasto has the reputation for being a muddy and patience-trying experience. Luckily for me and my partner in crime, J-Kay ‘Janderson’ Anderson, we were fortunate to experience nearly perfect weather. I’ll quickly give a run down to which performances I thought was good, OK, and not worth the hype. Please note that for some (most) of the days I missed some of the main bands due to being intoxicated or asleep!

The Good!
There were many really good acts. As usual, at least according to my festival theory, these acts were nearly all confined to the side stages. The pick of Friday was the simon-and-garfunkel-esque Vampire Weekend who put smiles on everyone’s faces with their afro-beat pop songs. You have to love a band you can dance too!



To my surprise, one of the other great acts of Glastonbury was gold coast locals Operator Please. I had always heard these guys on the radio back home and thought ‘argh, just another one of these gimmick bands’ but this was the first time I saw them perform, and I must say, I was hugely impressed. Also, their cover of Salt’n’Pepa’s ‘Push It’ has to go down as one of the best covers I’ve seen. Also, I had no idea that lead vocalist and guitarist Amandah Wilkinson had so much guitar credentials – she was busting out the riffs like there was no tomorrow.



Eventually coming out as my second favourite performance of the entire festival was Crowded House’s Saturday afternoon set. I knew all the word’s to most of their song, and there is nothing better than a giant crowd sing-a-long on a warm Saturday afternoon. Most of their obvious hits were played (they finished with my personal favourite ‘Four Season in One Day’) and a few newer Neil Finn numbers placed in between.



The Hoodoo Gurus played an early slot on Sunday at around noon. Much like the Crowded House set of the previous day, it was littered with old classics. Dave Faulkner did talk a lot of shite at times, but generally the set was enjoyable with the band members indulging in some rock and roll showmanship.

I randomly went and saw a UK band called Friendly Fires at the John Peel tent (coincidently, the tent closest to my campsite). They were enjoyable enough to warrant a place amongst my favourite sets of the festival. They had wisps of the cure mixed with a lot of electronic backing tracks, and reminded me in some ways of Australia’s own Seabellies, albeit with less members. Also, I think the guitarist might have thought he was Johnny Greenwood reincarnate, though clearly he wasn’t.

My pick of the festival was without a doubt Caribou. Playing a lot of songs off their great album ‘Andorra’, Daniel Snaith a co really showed an initially unsure crowd what it was like to mix 60’s-esque melodies with an dab of electronic beats and effects. ‘She’s the One’ was a festival highlight. I also loved their stage setup, with Snaith and his drummer setting up their separate drumkits directly opposite each other, so when they manically smashed their kits it looked like the were entangled in a drum battle of gargantuan proportions.

Spiritualized also played a great set at the John Peel Stage early on Sunday evening. Never listened to any of their music before, apart from the song 'Come Together', but I might have to check out some more of their tunes.

Much to my surprise, My Morning Jacket, who closed off the Park stage on the Sunday night, absolutely rocked. I have a few of their albums, and I always thought they were OK, but I had no idea that Jim James, their lead singer and guitarist, was such a rock god. They mixed rock and country music songs interchangeably, and jumped round the stage like men possessed. It was a delight to watch. Their drummer looks like Animal from the muppets, and indeed, drums like him as well.

I’m told on good authority by Janderson that Hot Chip were brilliant and ‘boyfriend material’. Unfortunately, I missed out due to being passed out drunk in my tent.

The Yeah-They-Were-OK.
I won’t go into much detail, but the Raconteurs were OK. John Mayer was OK (he can play some mighty fine guitar), The Kills would have been more enjoyable had their sound been better (I frequently noticed that the John Peel Stage had a really bad sound mix), Stars suffered from the same sound quality issues as the aforementioned Kills, and their lead singer’s choice of performance outfit left me feel slightly ill. I didn't really mind the sounds of The Rascals, who played a mixture of punk and surf music.

The Over-hyped and Awful.
Actually, I didn’t see many bands that were that awful. Some that I thought weren’t all that good were Canadian stoner rock group Black Mountain. Their 8 minute plus medleys were just drawn out and boring. Maybe I had to be ‘under the influence’ to appreciate, but I wasn’t, so therefore, I didn’t. The hyped up Crystal Castles probably were good. However, they only played for half an hour, despite having an hour set time, much to the extreme displeasure of the audience who rightly booed them off the stage. MGMT were also another band for which I couldn’t even been bothered to stand through their entire set for, such was the quality of their set. They didn’t look interested in playing at all, despite a full house at the John Peel stage. Furthermore, their songs were uninspired and bland. Don’t believe the hype. Janderson mentioned to me that by far the worst band she saw was the Brian Jonestown Massacre. I’m not surprised at all.

Well, that sums up what I thought was good and bad about the performances of certain acts at the festival. Overall, it was a good few days, though extremely tiring. Unsure if I will do it next year.