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Live review: The Bamboos + Axolotl – The Hi-Fi, Brisbane – July 2012

/ Paul McBride / Leave a comment

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I arrive at the Hi-Fi bar in Brisbane’s West End on Saturday night, fully prepared to be wowed by The Bamboos and ready to get my groove on. After a bit of a wait at the entrance, much miscommunication, and a brief discussion with the venue manager in which I find myself having to convince her that I’m not actually asking to be let backstage for any devious or sordid reason (apparently “Paul from AAA Backstage” is easily mistaken for “I want to go backstage”), I walk into the packed main hall of the Hi-Fi and catch the end of support act Axolotl’s set.

Dreamy folk music is the sound that greets me from the Melbourne three-piece; a pleasant, floating ambience centred on the vocals of Bamboos member Ella Thompson. They remind me slightly of the scene from Twin Peaks where Julee Cruise sings ‘Falling’ in the Roadhouse, although much less creepy, and with infinitely better fashion sense.

Axolotl leave the stage to polite applause and the heavy curtains close for some time, allowing the audience to fall back into comfortable conversation and sip on their beverages. Some time passes, and almost unsuspectingly the curtains suddenly whip open to reveal the nine-piece Bamboos, looking all kinds of dapper in their smart suits and colourful dresses. Frontman and songwriter Lance Ferguson and singer Kylie Auldist take the stage front-and-centre as the band launch into ‘What I Know’, while “We are the Bamboos, make some noise!” is the call. The sound is at once stylish, clean, and slick, and the band an engaging sight; there is just so much to look at and plenty of movement across all members.

By second song ‘Cut Me Down’ most of the audience is dancing along to the Bamboos’ mix of soul, pop, and funk, and ‘Now That You Are Mine’ and ‘Daydream’ follow. Auldist has one hell of a voice, Ferguson is the epitome of cool at this point, and I especially notice Graeme Pogson’s mastery behind the kit.

Ferguson introduces ‘Window’ as “a song I wrote for the late, great Amy Winehouse” and Auldist pulls it off brilliantly; she really puts everything into her vocals and leaves nothing in the tank.

Soon it is time for the unquestionable highlight of the evening, and as rumoured it is in the form of one Megan Washington. The Brisbane chanteuse is champing at the bit to get on stage as Ferguson introduces her, and she is looking fantastic dressed in all black, with dark lipstick to match. She throws her arms into the air and generally flails around as the band launch into Kings of Leon cover ‘King of the Rodeo’, which includes Anton Delecca absolutely killing the flute solo (words I would never have expected to say). Until now I generally considered flute solos to be about as cool as a punch to the lower spine, but this one is impressive in all kinds of ways.

Next up for Washington is a cover of James Blake’s ‘The Wilhelm Scream’ which she says is “a song about a junkie”, before saying hello to her dad, who is in the audience somewhere. Then her final song of the evening and contribution to latest album Medicine Man, ‘Eliza’, proves to be the best of the night, as Washington puts everything into her vocal, before leaving the stage to massive cheers.

How to follow such a performance from a much-loved hometown singer? The answer for the Bamboos isn’t easy to find, as the rest of the show slowly peters out and I retire to the bar area and watch one particular guy, who is steaming drunk, dance like a maniac. ‘You Ain’t No Good’ and ‘I Got Burned’ follow before an encore of ‘Like Tears in Rain’ and ‘Keep Me In Mind’ finish the show, and the Bamboos leave the stage to cheers and plenty of applause.

The Bamboos have taken giant strides forward with the song writing on Medicine Man and that comes across in the live arena. Overall it is a great night of soulful good times, with Megan Washington not only providing the best moments, but also strangely killing off the rest of the show as her performance can’t be matched. Advice to the Bamboos: only collaborate with people who are slightly less talented than you, lest they steal the show.

Record review: The Chemist – Ballet in the Badlands (2013, LP)

/ Paul McBride / 1 Comment

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The Chemist frontman Ben Witt once described his band’s music as being like a yo-yo: starting at one place and dropping down to another before returning back home. While genres are bounced around like a child’s toy on this excellent debut album, the Western Australian quartet’s tunes are underpinned by quality song-writing and dark lyrical themes throughout. Perth has been a veritable fountain of top drawer indie-rock talent in the last couple of years, and The Chemist are no exception; Ballet in the Badlands incorporates blues-y grooves, introspective pop, and melancholy folk in a slick collection of songs that reveals a little more with each listen. “The dress I hope she’s in is a shade of liquorice black, but if she sees through my charms her sister’s gonna take me back,” is a perfect example of Witt’s sharp lyrics on excellent opener ‘Heaven’s Got A Dress Code’. At no point do the band’s songs get repetitive; single ‘Silver and Gold’ is a catchy mix of creeping basslines, wailing guitars, and Gothic background vocals, ‘Sad Eyes’ is a soaring ballad, ‘Long Road Back’ is a short blast of dirty blues, and closer ‘Sparrow’s Shadow’ is a surprisingly jaunty pop number. There’s depth in these songs not present in many other band’s work, and perhaps working out where their eclectic tunes fit into an increasingly commercial music industry could be The Chemist’s biggest problem, but if they keep producing work of this calibre they will continue to draw people to their top-drawer indie-rock. (Dirt Diamonds)

Record review: The Gaslight Anthem – Handwritten (2012, LP)

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Despite probably seeming like a gift from the heavens, the move to a major label has been a poisoned chalice to many a band; it marked the beginning of the end of the Replacements’ career, and it could even be argued R.E.M. were never the same after they signed to Warner, despite the commercial successes of Green and Automatic For The People. Handwritten is the Gaslight Anthem’s fourth album, and the New Jersey quartet’s first for Mercury Records, but does the change of signature on the cheques mean a shift in style or sound for the blue-collar band?

The answer, thankfully, is no. The production is crisper and the sound bigger than 2010‘s American Slang and 2008 breakthrough The ‘59 Sound, but as Led Zep said, the song remains the same; in this case a straightforward, gritty, heartfelt mix of coming-of-age lyrics, heartache, and an unwavering conviction to playing good ol’ honest rock ‘n’ roll in the vein of their obvious influences Springsteen and Strummer.

Opener ‘45’ gets stuck in with a rowdy urgency and sees singer Brian Fallon asking “Have you seen my heart, have you seen how it bleeds?” in his trademark sandpaper-throated voice, which sounds excellent throughout the entire album. It’s a tight start that harks back to the best moments of The ’59 Sound and should have crowds bouncing on first listen. The title track follows, with guitar lines sounding not unlike those on The ’59 Sound title track, with added “wow-oh-ohs”, hummed harmonies and even some minor piano tinkling in quite a melancholy yet strangely rousing track.

‘Here Comes My Man’ is next and features some sneaky mandolin and a simple Thin Lizzy-esque “oh-sha-la-la” chorus, before ‘Mulholland Drive’ sees Fallon mourning lost love with cinematic grandeur and more than a whiff of aching nostalgia. While the Gaslight Anthem openly embrace the past in terms of musical influences, it seems that Fallon’s does little but haunt him.

Next up is ‘Keepsake’, which lowers the pace but not the intensity; this time it’s family history that’s the cause of trauma. ‘Too Much Blood’ follows – another slow burner with a Faces-style feel, before ‘Howl’ provides a mid-album highlight, as Fallon ponders his fading youth over a pounding, urgent drumbeat and frantically-scratchy guitars, asking “does anything still move you since you’re educated now?” with genuine conversational innocence.

The stomping ‘Biloxi Parish’ is the closest to a love song you’ll find here, while ‘Desire’ sees a return to the “oh-ohhh-oh” choruses and crunching guitars, before penultimate track ‘Mae’ brings the balladry and places Fallon’s perfectly-gruff delivery even more into the spotlight.

Closer ‘National Anthem’ is the quietest track on the album and tugs at the heartstrings in unexpected ways. With lines like “I never will forget you my American love, I’ll always remember you as wild as they come” over a gently plucked guitar and strings, this is the Gaslight Anthem doing early Dylan, and it works beautifully. The quality of the production again plays a part here, as each note sounds clear and crisp as the album comes to a mellow close.

Critics will say it’s more of the same for the Gaslight Anthem, or draw comparisons to what fellow New Jerseyan Springsteen achieved with his first four albums, but they’re missing the point. Very few bands can turn the mundane nature of everyday life into poetry, give it widespread appeal, and do it with integrity. Even fewer can even come close to being compared favourably with The Boss.

In ‘Howl’ Fallons asks “do you believe there’s still some magic left somewhere inside our souls?” On the evidence on show here, the answer is an undeniable yes.

Live review: The Art of Sleeping + Tourism + Palindromes – Oh Hello!, Brisbane – June 2012

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Queuing in the rain is never the best start to any gig experience, but that is what several hundred pumped-up students and I do before being welcomed into the garish, retina-burning interior of Oh Hello! nightclub. Pumping beats, two-metre tall He-Man cartoons on the walls, and multicoloured lamps suspended from the ceiling just about describes our surroundings for the evening. This is a student event, so free and/or cheap stuff is a must; the freebies coming in the form of popcorn and fairy floss, and the cheap stuff involving drinks promotions, helping us to forget the weather and anticipate a great night of music.

First on the bill is Sydney pop duo Palindromes, except… nothing happens. There is some movement of people on stage that looks to be them setting up, but not a note is played, and we left to contend with the DJ’s seemingly-endless supply of indie remixes. Time drifts by without a hint of the opening band, unless I was so absorbed in the adventures of our camp hero from Castle Grayskull and watching Arnie pump iron on the big screens that I missed them – in which case I’d appreciate anyone letting me know if they are any good, or indeed what the f… happened.

Over an hour after Palindromes are meant to start, Tourism take the stage and lift the energy level in the room immediately with their engaging blend of indie guitar pop and cheeky north-of-England attitude. Lead singer Joe sings in his distinctively-charming Derbyshire accent and his four-piece band play tight, quirky guitar tunes in the style of early Arctic Monkeys, with a hint of the melodies of cult Liverpool band The Las. “We don’t have to go to school tomorrow!” Joe announces to the guys and girls at the front, much to their appreciation, before guitarist Adrian vomits on his guitar without losing his massive grin. Tourism obviously weren’t thinking of Google when choosing their band name, but they are worth checking out if you can find their website among all the holiday promotions and flight offers.

It’s also at this point that one skinny tie-wearing hipster and I have the following exchange:

Hipster: Is this Art Of Sleeping?
Me: No, it’s Tourism.
Hipster: Who?
Me: They’re called Tourism, The Art Of Sleeping’s support band!
Hipster: Does the support band come before or after Art Of Sleeping?
Me: *palm face*

Thankfully The Art Of Sleeping step up and inject some class into proceedings and effortlessly provide the highlight of the night. The Brisbane five-piece’s dreamy, measured, folk-rock sound instantly demands attention, and they have the melodies, instrumentation, and great choruses to keep you enthralled until they decide they are done.

They fire off two up-tempo numbers to get the energy of the audience up, with second song ‘Voodoo’ sounding particularly fantastic before ‘Like A Thief’ slows things down and allows us to fully appreciate Caleb Hodges’ voice, before he thanks the home crowd for coming and tells us how great it is to be back in Brisbane.

Hodges then introduces the next song – a cover of Neil Young’s ‘Cowgirl In The Sand’ – by saying “this song normally has a twenty-minute guitar solo, but we cut it to eighteen”. They do the song justice, and guitarist Patrick Silver peels off a nice-sounding solo.

Penultimate song ‘Above the Water’ – The Art Of Sleeping’s most recent single – soars in all kinds of epic ways, before closer and Triple J favourite ‘Empty Hands’ ups the quality even more and provides the perfect finish. The grateful band show their appreciation and invite fans to speak to them after the show, before leaving the small Oh Hello! stage, and the DJ starts up again.

The Art Of Sleeping undoubtedly have the quality to make it, and deserve to be playing in bigger and better venues. Personally, I would love to see them headline somewhere like the Zoo or the Tivoli, with their own appreciative audience in tow. At their present rate of ascent we shouldn’t have to wait too long.

P.S. – Fellow AAA reviewer Kirsten was at the same venue last week, and mentioned the smell as being a strange mix of good and bad. The burnt sugar odour from one side of the room meets the acidic vomit stench from the toilets at the other, and joins with the normal beer-and-squashed-lemon-slice bar scent to form quite an eye-watering mix. This is probably more information than you need to know.

Live review: Tame Impala + The Growl – The Tivoli, Brisbane – December 2012

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Tame Impala are riding high right now; of that there can be no argument. Receiving heaped praise, awards, and inclusions in many album-of-2012 lists, the Western Australia band are enjoying a particularly purple patch since the release of second album Lonerism. Live shows, on the other hand, are a completely different basket of bananas, with mainman Kevin Parker recently describing his new live band as a “small, five-man orchestra;” as he felt the need to add a new touring member in order to incorporate the new layers of sound found on Lonerism. A sold out Tivoli, legions of fans queueing down the street, and a hot Brisbane Wednesday night awaits the psych-rock quintet as we look forward to hearing some new sounds. Tame Impala, our minds are yours for the evening.

Openers The Growl are under way as I arrive into the already bulging Tivoli; the Fremantle junkyard rockers are mashing together a depraved digest of noises from a stage bathed in a deep blue glow. At first I take them for a manic avant-garde outfit, but they quickly win me over with their irreverent racket, complete with frontman Cameron Avery’s brilliantly-bluesy voice and hand-on-hip mannerisms that remind of a scruffy Pelle Almqvist. The band’s two drummers hit the skins hard enough to raise the dead on the excellent ‘Cleaver Lever’, and before they sign off, Avery requests that “Everybody gets home safe. Don’t drink and drive!” while seeming genuinely pleased and grateful to be playing on the Tivoli stage. Upon completion of their set, I have no real idea what I just saw and heard, but I know my ringing ears liked it – check them out.

The Tivoli is now filling to bursting point, and I get the impression there are many people here who don’t regularly go to gigs; the type who treat the experience as a chance to get catastrophically wasted and shamble around the place like lobotomised chimps. But not to worry, Tame Impala take to a stage now awash with amber and red lighting, smoke, and effects, as ‘Be Above It’ – conveniently the first song off the new album – starts up, before the music quickly melts into ‘Solitude is Bliss’, which sounds pretty damn fantastic, and simultaneously thunderous.

The next few songs flip between those from Lonerism and Innerspeaker, and for me, the earlier songs are superior, or at least they sound so played live. ‘It is Not Meant to Be’ sounds much fatter compared to ‘Feels Like We Only Go Backwards’, although the majority of the Tivoli audience lose their shit during the new songs, most notably on ‘Elephant’, which sees a mini mosh-pit break out several metres from the stage. My own desire to pogo withheld, I particularly enjoy the one-two of ‘Lucidity’ and ‘Alter Ego;’ the latter being probably the best thing the band has done in this writer’s opinion.

A fine finishing trio of ‘Why Won’t You Make Up Your Mind?,’ ‘Desire Be, Desire Go,’ and ‘Apocalypse Dreams’ round out a deafening set, before the band come back on for one last epic jam, complete with The Growl’s Cameron on maracas, to finish up the night and send their fans home happy.

Tame Impala are a great band and deserve the plaudits they have been getting recently; Parker’s new songs are original and flaunt a range not present on the debut album. Stage presence and audience interaction may not be their greatest strengths, but the quality of the music is more than enough to make their show one worth catching.

Live review: Stonefield + The Delta Riggs – The Zoo, Brisbane – April 2012

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It’s refreshing that in a week where the ‘biggest’ musical event to happen in Brisbane was One Fucking Direction selling out the Convention Centre and forcing a collective creaming of jeans amongst their adolescent marketing victims (sorry, fans), people who like proper music played by proper musicians could cruise along to the Zoo in the Valley and hear some of the best young rock bands in Australia right now. Thank Christ for Stonefield.

Before this review turns into a rant against boy bands and all things manufactured, let me just say I have nothing against them; it’s their fans that need beaten with several pieces of heavy farming equipment. Twenty dollars would maybe get you two hotdogs and a coke at the Convention Centre while you listen to five prancing teens sing about their manginas, or nearly five hours of committed, pure-as-the-driven-snow rock ‘n’ roll at the Zoo; music played by the people who wrote it, and with enough conviction and attitude to scare One Direction’s balls into dropping.

One bunch of guys who have absolutely no problem locating their balls is support act The Delta Riggs; the Melbourne five-piece packing enough gloriously groovy Southern-rock cool into their set to make you think every piece of music since 1974 never happened. Decked out in cowboy hats, retro ‘70s shirts, and hair galore, they incorporate epic guitar, organ, and even some bluesy harmonica into a fantastic set. Taunting the “silly bunch of cunts up the back” for being too-cool-for-school and not joining in the fun, front man Elliott Hammond oozes Jagger-esque attitude and even manages to include “lend me some sugar, I am your neighbour!” from Outkast’s ‘Hey Ya’ into the middle of a song. The highlight of their set however, was Hammond brilliantly dedicating their song ‘Mary’ to Levon Helm, The Band’s legendary singing drummer, who died this week.

Speaking of singing drummers, Stonefield’s Amy Findlay has one hell of a set of pipes, and her band has more balls than One Direction’s entire fan base and the Delta Riggs put together. I have to admit, I was surprised and impressed by the power of the four hard-rocking sisters from rural Victoria, as they pounded, slapped, and strummed the living shit out of their instruments in an amazing seventy-five minute set.

As they are a young band yet to release their debut long player, you can pretty much be certain of which songs will feature in a Stonefield set. ‘Move Out Of My Shadow,’ ‘Drowning,’ and ‘Addicted Love’ are all blasted into the audience with one hundred percent commitment, with guitarist Hannah effortlessly peeling off the riffs like she has been doing it for decades, while baby-of-the-family and bassist Holly lifts her tiny frame onto the monitors, twirls her waist-length hair and gives it everything. It’s frightening to think that at fourteen years old she has already played the Glastonbury festival in England and toured all over Australia and the world.

It’s when Hannah switches her Gibson SP for a Les Paul and the crushing opening riff of ‘Black Water Rising’ thunders from the stage that the second half of the set cranks the proceedings up a notch. With the energy level not letting up, and Amy putting so much into her vocals that you think her vocal cords can’t possibly hold out, they launch into new single ‘Bad Reality;’ another blast of blistering, pounding rock riffage that should be a set staple for years to come.

Steppenwolf classic ‘Magic Carpet Ride’ gets a run-out – a song that perfectly encapsulates Stonefield’s spirit and allows keyboardist Sarah to flaunt her skills – before the support drummer comes on and Hannah takes the stage front and centre for ‘Drowning.’ Closer and Triple J favourite ‘Through The Clover’ gets an epic airing before the girls leave the stage to massive cheers and whistles from the Zoo audience.

Two minutes later, after much foot-stomping and calls for more, they are back, launching into Zeppelin’s ‘Whole Lotta Love,’ with almost as much swagger and energy as Page and co. did in their heyday. Amy’s voice seems tailor-made for the song, and she doesn’t let up with the vocal acrobatics until the dying seconds, when she and her sisters leave the stage for good, to the sounds of ringing appreciation from all sections of the audience.

All in all, it was an epic night of old-school rock ‘n’ roll, by young bands having the time of their lives, doing what they love, and playing music in a style that belies their tender years. It’s all too easy to rant about manufactured pop and the shit state of the music industry, but after seeing these guys in action I take heart. The next half-century of Australian rock is in good hands.

Live review: Future Music Festival, Brisbane – March 2013

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Anybody reading this will probably know by now that the Brisbane leg of Future Music Festival 2013 descended into something close to the seventh level of satanic mud hell; a washout of such magnitude that at one stage I caught myself looking at a discarded soggy pizza box and considering it a good vantage point. It’s tempting to launch into a rant about festival organisation/contingency plans/lack of shelter blah blah etc., but given a few hours to reflect since fighting off borderline hypothermia and trench foot, I realise that the day’s rain, mud, and general quagmire-related grimness are the things that are going to make Future 2013 so memorable. To my fellow festival-goers who made it through the day and came out smiling – I salute you!

I arrived at Doomben Racecourse just before 1pm, and headed to the Mariachi stage on the far side of the compound. At this point there was plenty of water on the ground and rain still falling in torrents, but no hint of the sludge-fest it would soon become. Gypsy & the Cat were just kicking off, sounding like a sight for sore ears with the always excellent ‘Bloom’ appearing early in the set to lift spirits and brighten hearts. The band’s music is perfect for a summer festival; all sunny melodies and harmonies, and it still sounded so through the deluge. ‘The Piper’s Song’ and ‘Only in December’ followed, before ‘Jona Vark’ provided a late set highlight, as singer Xavier Bacash invited the audience to sing along, which they did in spades.

Okay, I don’t want this review to turn into a weather report, but it’s safe to say that at this early stage I was soaked to my balls, as was every other person present, I’m guessing. Ellie Goulding – next up at the Mariachi stage – acknowledged the shitty situation with “thank you so much for coming to see me guys, I know how bad it is out there,” between showcasing her powerful voice (forgive me for not writing the playlist down – my notepad turned to mush and my phone was wrapped in a plastic sandwich bag) and covering several kilometres around the stage. Another fine set to lift spirits.

There are only so many times you can listen to “Brisbane: make some noizzzeeee!” or “Brisbane: put your hands up in the aaaaiiiiirrrrr!”, so Rita Ora’s crap-pop quickly became tiresome. Party and bullshit? Well – you’re half right Rita.

So, after a quick trip to the bar for the soothing nectar, it was back to the Mariachi stage to catch New York indie-rockers Fun.. Satisfyingly, they began with single ‘Some Nights’ and the energy level of frontman Nate Ruess didn’t let up from there, as the crowd bounced in unison to their quirky pop tunes. Any band that can make lyrics like “Well some nights I wish that all this could end, cause I could use some friends for a change” sound so damn cheerful and catchy are okay by me.

Weather update: still raining, beginning to shiver. Grass slowly disappearing under mud.

Azealia Banks has courted plenty of controversy recently with her alleged homophobic remarks, but it has to be said: the girl has a voice. She had gathered the biggest crowd of the day so far to her set; her voice booming across the racecourse with the easy confidence of someone who had been doing it for decades, not the young lady that she is.

One name that stood out to everybody when looking at their timetables was South Korean sensation Psy. His ‘Gangnam Style’ was one of the most talked about things of 2012, and I still can’t work out why. As I got a decent vantage point for his set I felt a small sting of shame that I was a tiny part of making this nonsensical tune more of a thing than it should be. Psy himself, is under no illusions, however. Addressing the audience before a note is played, he humbly pokes fun at his act by saying “You know me for one song only, but I’m contracted to do five, sorry,” before playing three songs (with excellent vocals on his part and a multitude of glamorous dancers), then announcing he will do ‘Gangnam Style’ twice to massive cheers and hectic dancing. I leave thinking that it’s all a bit of harmless fun and we’re all total suckers for finding something so silly even remotely entertaining. Well played, sir.

At this point I needed to get some circulation going again in my limbs, so I made the trek through the sea of deserted, muddy shoes and up to the grandstand to get some heat, food, and beer in my shivering body and send my editor a bitchy text along the lines of “Only the Stone Roses are worth this shit.”

After a deep, drunken, and borderline sexist discussion with some wasted Irish guys about the ins and outs of dating Australian women, I return to the other side of the waterlogged field once more, take in the end of A-Trak’s set, and settle in for The Temper Trap. It had taken over five and a half hours, but finally the musical heavyweights were here. Darkness had fallen, and a superb set by the London-via-Melbourne lads culminate with the ubiquitous ‘Sweet Disposition’ in the red spotlight and stage smoke glow provided the highlight of the day so far. Were they ever going to finish with any other song?

Weather update: total fucking quagmire. Can’t feel fingers. Stopped caring ages ago.

As for the highlight of the entire festival: this is the one. The Stone Roses. Now, I have to admit at this point that I’m a massive Stone Roses fanboy – from doing school exams when only ‘Waterfall’ could ease my nerves, to dancing like a monkey to the wig-out at the end of ‘I am the Resurrection’ as a drunken brat of a teenager, to breaking up with my first girlfriend and ‘She Bangs the Drums’ taking me to my happy place – like many others, the ‘Roses are practically sacred to me. Their songs have soundtracked my life, and when the unthinkable happened and they got back together, I shed a few tears of joy. At Future they played ‘I Wanna Be Adored’, ‘(Song For My) Sugar Spun Sister’, ‘Shoot You Down’, ‘Waterfall’, ‘Fool’s Gold’, ‘Made of Stone’, ‘This is the One’, ‘Love Spreads’, ‘She Bangs the Drums’, and an epic closing version of ‘I Am The Resurrection’. Ian Brown was on top form – his voice sounding much stronger than Friday night’s gig at the River Stage, and Reni and Mani proved why they are still one of the best rhythm sections around. Before I saw them, I was ready to be most impressed by the groovy stomp of Reni’s drumming, but it was the guitar work of John Squire that made me gasp the most. He is a true titan of the guitar; under his unassuming demeanour there is a monster shredder trying to get out, and I could have listened to him, and all of them, play all night. What a fucking occasion – the music world has missed them.

For me, nothing could have topped the ‘Roses, so I dragged my sorry, drowned-rat ass straight onto the train and made for home, and the safe, comforts like hot showers, dry underwear, and cold beers. Standing ankle-deep in freezing cold shit-water while being pelted sideways by a brutal watery onslaught from the heavens for eight hours (with nothing but a flimsy poncho for cover) in order to hear a few tunes is something to be proud of. To every single person who lasted the day, I say well done. Douchebags, one and all.

Record review: Edge of Red – Queen of Hearts (2012, EP)

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Maybe it is a good time for Brisbane pop-rockers Edge Of Red to make a name for themselves, with Evanescence once again riding high with their particular brand of epic, female-fronted, melodic rock. Based on the evidence of this independently-released debut, they wouldn’t sound out of place supporting a band of that calibre. It could also be argued however, that Edge Of Red’s style of music has had its day, and that day ended some time in 2003. Songs like ‘Break The Rules’ and ‘Hard To Breathe’ are respectable stabs at the genre, and the musicianship is of inarguably high quality. Lead singer Ally Marks puts everything into her vocals, and would probably sound great on a Soundwave stage, but the formulaic nature of Edge Of Red’s songs starts to grate after a couple of listens. Their sound is good, but only if you like this sort of thing. (Independent)

Record review: Tom Milek – Love & Ambition (2012, EP)

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With this reflective and melancholy debut EP, Melburnian Tom Milek has joined the ever-growing ranks of earnest young folkies telling stories of youthful anxiety. A well-worn path that may be; but Milek isn’t put off and does it better than many of his contemporaries. While the soaring strings are a little overdone at times, there are plenty of appealing vocal melodies and deft guitar touches. Milek has a gentle, almost adolescent voice that sounds best on up-tempo single ‘Vicious Curves’, and his lyrics tell brutally-honest tales of oh-so painful longing. Opener ‘Time Machine’ sees him happy to be remembering his first kiss, but by fourth track ‘Treading Water’ he’s heartbroken and seeking solace in booze. The recurrent downbeat nature of the songs make this more of a Sunday morning than a Saturday night listen, but one nevertheless infused with skill and promise. (Independent)

Record review: The New Invincibles – Hear Some Evil (2012, EP)

/ Paul McBride / 4 Comments

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Garage/punk/blues outfit The New Invincibles describe themselves as ‘one of Perth’s best live bands’. After hearing this EP – their third release since forming in 1999 – I can only conclude that this boast is a massive insult to the many fine bands from that city. The four-piece attempt to make noise like groups from the original wave of ‘60s garage, such as the 13th Floor Elevators and The Sonics, but it all feels far too contrived, and the desire to play as fast as possible strips the music of any soul or groove. Opener ‘Barnaby’ is the worst example of this; it’s three minutes of painful keyboard and guitar thrashing that goes absolutely nowhere. ‘Rubber Lovely’ and Oasis-on-speed closing track ‘Night’ have some redeemable moments despite the wailing vocals, but ultimately this EP is an excruciating listen. (Casa del Diablo Records)

Record review: Graveyard Train – Hollow (2012, LP)

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Melbourne country-horror madmen Graveyard Train are primarily known for their stomping, ramshackle live shows and chain-whacking gimmicks, but their third album should change all that. Sounding like the Lost Boys soundtrack done by Tarantino, Hollow drips with creepy baritone harmonies, dark country twangs, and tales of whisky, locomotives, and the devil. The song writing is stronger than ever; ‘Get The Gold’, ‘The Sermon’, and ‘Mary Melody’ being the best examples, and there are Nick Cave-esque touches sprinkled throughout too; most noticeably on ‘Hollow Wind’. Almost all the tracks have elements that will only enhance the Graveyard Train live experience; from sing-along choruses to apocalyptic let’s-drink-like-it’s-the-end-of-the-world lyrics. Ever wanted to go out into the desert and dance like a monkey around a massive bonfire, wearing nothing but a necklace of rattlesnake bones? Take Hollow and a good whisky, and have the time of your life. (Spooky Records)

Record review: Katie Wighton – You Are Here (2013, EP)

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Brisbane-raised folk songstress Katie Wighton has produced a gem of a second EP with You Are Here. Her delicate, lilting folk melodies and heartfelt lyrics see her dealing with subject matter like leaving home and lost love over the course of five expertly crafted songs. Opener ‘Christopher’ is a charming tune complete with marching band drums and gentle piano tinkling. ‘Smoking Cigarettes’ is a more mournful affair, ‘Grey Clouds’ sees the singer engaging some vocal effects, ‘Onwards and Upwards’ rolls and sprawls majestically, and closer ‘Ramshackle Heart’ starts slowly before introducing some wonderfully deft harmonies. A recent move to Sydney inspired Wighton to write many of these songs and lay her heartache on the line for everyone to see, but her voice is undoubtedly the star of the show; elegant, poised, and full of raw emotion to match the sometimes heavy subject matter. (Independent)

Live review: Angus Stone + Steve Smyth – The Hi-Fi, Brisbane, November 2012

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A packed Hi-Fi (on a night that sees Radiohead playing just up the road at the Entertainment Centre) is the venue on a rainy Brisbane evening, as the Angus Stone show rolls into town for the fifth stop of his Broken Brights tour. Having only ever heard rave reviews about him – and his sister Julia for that matter – but never seen him live myself, I’m here with a slate that’s as clean as a bean and a readiness to absorb the young New South Welshman’s charming folk-rock and psychedelic leanings. Sure, the crowd is made up of 90% girls, 5% brow-beaten boyfriends, and the rest of us are just wondering what the fuck we’re doing here, but with a drink in hand and a perch by the steps, the view is looking pretty good.

The surprisingly aggro-fuelled audience is already fired up by the time support Steve Smyth and his drummer saunter onto the stage, looking like lost Allman Brothers with an enviable array of angular facial hair and locks. “Good evening Brisbane, how are you this evening?” offers the singer, before setting forth on a varied selection of era-bending whiskey-soaked blues, gruff rock, and indie; combining the lot to craft perfectly-poised walls of noise that make the audience stop chattering and listen, impressed. As he swings his SG about like he’s trying to hit a persistent fly, Smyth sings in a voice that is alternatively coarse, clean, and at times even veers into falsetto territory. He ultimately grinds out a singularly bloody beautiful set of songs that leaves me, and I bet many others in the room, wanting to check him out further. Well played sir.

Angus Stone and his band stroll onto the stage in a haze of purple and red lights to the sounds of cheers from all corners. It’s clear by the sudden frenzy among many of the girls present that the singer’s appeal is greatly helped by the fact he’s a pretty handsome lad. How much of his appeal is based on that remains to be seen, although it’s clear that his simple and direct outlook on life is certainly a crowd-pleaser. As the singer and his band run through songs from his new album, with an extended ukulele wig-out thrown in for good measure, a large chunk of the audience sings along in a display of devoted fandom. By the fifth track ‘Bird on The Buffalo’ Stone addresses the crowd – something that he doesn’t seem to be naturally comfortable with – telling us that “when I have time off I like to sit on the couch and roll a big joint and watch television.” Well, who doesn’t, Angus?
‘Broken Brights’ and ‘Monsters’ again induce gargantuan sing-alongs, before Stone, implicating one particularly lairy rum-sodden girl, tells the audience “if anyone next to you is talking shit, tell them to shut up or else they never will. Their whole lives!” Cue massive cheers from all around, including the totally incognizant Bundy girl.

Towards the end of the evening I think I ‘get’ Angus Stone. His tunes are simple and sweet. His near-incoherent mumblings are ludicrously charming. He’s a hairy, earthy scruff that girls go ape-shit for. What else is there to say? The stratosphere awaits.

Record review: Dick Diver – Calendar Days (2013, LP)

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There’s something so charmingly unassuming about Melbourne quartet Dick Diver that makes you think that catching them indulging in clichéd rock star behaviour is about as likely as One Direction turning punk. Their 2011 debut New Start Again was an appealing collection of lo-fi indie slacker fuzz, and while second effort Calendar Days is a more polished affair, it retains all the salt-of-the-earth appeal of its predecessor.

Single ‘Alice’ is the perfect example of everything the band are about; it’s the sound of four people making perfectly sunny indie Australiana, without seeming to be really trying. “I get out of bed and get my toast to the perfect shade of gold,” sets the scene perfectly as the first line, and the breezy slices of guitar pop roll by in a haze from there.

Alistair McKay and Rupert Edwards provide the bulk of the vocals, but when drummer Steph Hughes – who also beats the skins in Boomgates – takes to the mic, the charm of the album is cranked up several notches, as on the title track.

It’s not all catchy sweetness; the brooding crawl of ‘Boys’ provides a stark contrast to what comes before, as a tale of broken friendship is sung over a creeping bass line and mournful guitar.

Later highlights include the beautifully lilting ‘Gap Life’ and up-tempo ‘Bondi 98’, which sees Hughes getting heavy behind the kit and providing tasteful harmonies throughout, before closer ‘Languages of Love’ proves that the band can sometimes find themselves on the wrong side of the fine line between charming and awkward.

Dick Diver aren’t the type of band to be embarking on an arena tour any time soon; their music is best listened to in a gloomy bedroom as you put on your favourite winter jumper and make another cup of tea – and that’s the way we’d like to keep it, thank you very much. (Chapter Music)

Record review: Wild Belle – Isles (2013, LP)

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Siblings Natalie and Elliot Bergman may have been born and bred in Chicago, but their debut album carries an altogether more Caribbean flavour. Trying to pin down their sound is a challenge in itself, as the eclectic duo bounce between reggae, ska, psych-rock, pop, and funk with apparent ease, but the overall feel of this album is one of palm trees, coconuts, sun, and smooth summer-y grooves. Elliot’s sleek baritone sax on ‘Keep You’ goes a long way towards making the instrument cool again, and his sister’s sultry approach to lyrics like “Tell me what the matter is little man, I got a pretty face and I wear a nice dress, why can’t I keep you?” makes for one hell of a mellow break-up track, which ultimately proved enough to generate a frenzy of industry interest in the band and prompt the inking of a deal with Sony Music. Natalie is an engaging singer and has an impressive range; most notably on second track, the funky ‘It’s Too Late’, as her brother tinkles with toy keyboards and synths. The self-produced Isles will keep you guessing as one curve ball after another is flung at your ears; from the funk-pop of ‘Shine’, reggae-tinged ‘Twisted’, and the excellent ‘When It’s Over’, on which brother Bergman proves he’s an equally as competent vocalist as his front-woman sister. Wild Belle’s music is tailor-made for a midsummer festival, so hopefully it won’t be long until they visit these shores. In the mean time, enjoy the sublime Isles. (Sony Music)