Unconstructive critiscm, slagging and random disinformation from the Melbourne music scene.
Ok, so you are from melbourne, that means you are probly in a band . But chances are that band is a derivative, soulless heap of turd. Its ok, get over it ....
Vacuum is most of ASPS and some of NUN, so it was a fairly safe bet they weren't going to play acoustic folk covers. The women operated from and across a table loaded with synths, pedals, effects and god knows what else, feverishly working the gear into the release of a throbbing droning and oscillating electro pulse, the colossal beats and wash of the noise squall softened and textured by occasional dual moaning chant vocals riding over and through and meshed into it all as and when needed. The music was oppressive (in a good (?)way) and reminded me of some old industrial flagellation like Laibach or Neubaten , at times almost Swans like in its S&M delivery..
While I appreciate that its easier to wheel a pre-prepared table of cable spaghetti on to the stage it does become a bit of a barrier between artiste and audience, gimme kneeling on the floor, or a precariously balanced shopping trolley/bar stool/beercrate stack any day. ..more of an observation than anything though : the songs were as cold as ice , heavy as lead and as unstoppable as an avalanche..it would not be wise to get too close.
Cloud Control, Joes Surf Shack, Sorrento. March 28th 2014.
On what must surely be the last weekend of our fading Indian summer, with what definitely was the first flu of an impending Melbourne winter, what could be better than this? Sitting in the sun, beer in hand, sea at your back watching the best pop group in Australia do their stuff to a largely disinterested group of pre-footy diners.
They played a brief set of their hits (it was free after all, and they are playing twice a day for a month all in the aid of promoting some beer.. I missed the name..) , and of course I chose to tape one of their less mesmerising songs: more Mamas and Papas than Coldplay but hey! there's a large proportion of the world (Now including Gwyneth) who would be quite happy with that. Its not exaggerating to say the vocal harmonies are up in that league too (no, not that of the unconsciously couplers'), very pretty. I know I shouldn't...but I like em.
I probably first heard wire in 1977, when a mate made me a tape of the "Live at the Roxy LP".... "this ones dedicated to loopin Ada, and its called 12xU"..they played it when I finally got to see them (also at the Corner) first time they came to Melbourne. Those early tunes (heard from mono cassette players under railway viaducts, by dark canals, or in dangerously driven and overcrowded first cars) were so of their time and so not: angular and angry , clever and poppy , structured and deconstructed. The band imploded after 1-5-4, an epic set of lush and truly fractured love songs to a deluded self that was the soundtrack to many of the mistakes, cruelties and naiveties I committed at that time of my life. That album for a long time remaining the high point of their achievements for me.
The hits resumed again later in the 80's with the new electro tainted Wire once again subverting the norm with songs like Dot-Dash, Kidney Bingos, Ahead ("bring on the special guest: a monkey caught stealing") while settling down nicely next to it on the bench arm casually thrown around its shoulder. I don't pretend to have followed the band into the naughties ( I knew they were there, but had other more important things going on.. like life and all that ) but I'm glad I did buy "Changes Become us" (as a 50th birthday present to myself), the songs are breathtakingly gorgeous and echo through the years back to 1-5-4 and even earlier and bang!: like a kiss from my teenage sweetheart I'm lost again. So how did it go meeting that teenage crush 35 years later? She looked older obviously, and while I could see (presumably as strangers would) the old bodies and thinning hair the inspiration, warmth and strangeness that informs every one of their songs left me as buzzing with excitement and joy as I had been as a pimply youth.
Its a stupid analogy, because if you really met your dream girl you wouldn't just turn your back at the end of the set and walk back to the train without even buying a t-shirt would you? How many mistakes, cruelties and naiveties can one guy get away with?
Pioneers of good Science, Danes Magic Shop , Jan 25th 2014
I always under estimate how far it is to Brunswick....I blame it on deceptive google maps (this way be monsters), and melways with missing pages...anyhow it was an epic ride out to Sydney road and luckily not too hard to find Danes Magic shop, a very classy setup down a back alley, with classy wall murals , classy seats, classy satin curtains , a classy bar and an impressive range of fart powder. Mr Certificate did tricks between the bands which was really cool and turned the evening into something very different from your run of the mill pub backroom trial by ennui. ( did I feel a dickhead for assuming it was a squat/shop/frontroom gig and bringing a couple of stubbies in a paper bag? yep).
Of course it was too dark for my recording device but Pioneers of good science were great in that cuddly un-user friendly shoegaze with brains way that they are. And this song (off their white vinyl 12")...was ...just ...magic!
you don't know me, you don't know me at all.you don't know me, you don't know me at all.you don't know me, you don't know me at all.you don't know me, you don't know me at all.you don't know me, you don't know me at all.you don't know me, you don't know me at all.you don't know me, you don't know me at all.you don't know me, you don't know me at all.you don't know me, you don't know me at all.you don't know me, you don't know me at all............................................................................................. Litter took an age to get set up , behind closed curtains, but they were on a mission to record every one of their 10 songs at each of their 10 gigs for release on a 10" ( in 10 years time probably) so there was lots of mike taping and mac tweaking involved.
Faced with another extended gear shuffling and snare tapping session before Map Ends played I'm afraid I bailed, a long bike ride down a scary Merri creek bike path beckoned and Id had enough by then.
Tote Front Bar, Collingwood. Jan 11 2014 If I had gone to last weeks episode of the Cuntz Tote residency then I think I would have seen them every weekend since the end of November....and you know? there IS such a thing as too much of a really bad thing. Anyway this week the front bar was heaving (once the 'Muteants (supporting) finally gave up on the "technical issues" wank and got their shit together (aka found the power lead)), people tearing themselves away from the high risk BBQ in the beer garden and pouring back into the front bar when the band kicked into another brilliant set. One day I'm gonna get a decent camera but until then: Heres a fake disco Jam from Melbourne's fav fake synth punk band in fake super 8...
What a difference a week makes: if the crowd for Deafheaven was 90% males who didn't have a girlfriend, then tonight it was 90% women who did and I was kicking myself for not wearing my flower print dress and full sleeve tat ensemble.. The vibe was great: the Corner was packed to capacity but still it seemed everyone had a little bit of space to dance and I only got told off once for getting in someone's way.
So Kathleen is a bona fide legend and we hung on every word she said and sang, no "Run so fast" (which really wouldn't have worked live) but "Goodnight Goodbye" , "Come On!" and "Just my type" delivered the pop hits most bands only dream of, the mix was kind to Kathleen's vocals (or rather to our ears) and she looked great (yes, I know.. but...), seemed to be of good health and having fun even though the dance moves were arguably appropriate to her age ...unlike the outfit which can only be described as "Feminist Statement". Last time I saw her ( 20 years ago at the Bull and Gate....) Bikini Kills' (boy) guitarist had to wear a pigs head through the entire set so I guess those statements are getting more refined (if no more decipherable to a poor hetero/chauvinist/running dog lackey of paternalism like myself) over time, but It was all brilliant ...and so nice to see bands at the top of their game playing shows in little old Oz.
This turned out to be one of those fabulous Melbourne summer nights that started early, finished earlier and didn't really need the jumper you almost lost at each stop. Tom Lincoln and Ohms at the Tote, Footy (we won) in the city, Cuntz and TV colours at the Vice party and then back to the Tote Cobra Bar for dancing to crap jazz/blues/beebop tunes and somehow I got home with the money I left with!!! (I didn't wake up next to a half finished curry/kebab but heh 5 out of 6 aint bad..).
Anyway back to Ohms : This is the turbo-powered punky-pop sparkler-topped bottomless-low-carb-mocktail that Debbie Harry would've Dyed her roots for (err I mean "did"). The girl/boy voices go together like 7/11 Slurpees and yesterdays Donuts, with really irresistible (chuckle- irresistible - Ohms ..get it?) harmonies and tormenting earworm choruses that last well beyond the use by date.
Following the new Geschlect editorial policy I am compelled to say this group had a good beat , splendid glow in the dark fluoro pink bass strings, and the singer was cute.... and they have a good name too....ah enough of this - Im gonna stick the boot in!!!
For some reason I have a "Dancehall Crashers" cd and the vox really remind of that band , but that Cd is a bit of a guilty secret, you see I have a bit of problem getting too enthusiastic about pop groups with cute girls in , I keep thinking "go get ready for your prom or whatever" ..prove to me you really are ugly on the inside like the rest of us...but this time I just concentrated on the dayglo bass strings so it wasn't a problem....
For me the better tunes came towards the end of the set when her voice started to rasp a bit, So I'm gonna skip poking fun at the battle of the bands stage presence and the Crown-casino-Bacharach-esque number (which was actually pretty good but dont tell anyone) and give my "dix ponts" to the last song , the gloriously titled "Nightmares of Gene Simmons" where a "Brain that wouldnt die"-like verse sets up a nearly, (not quite), but touching on, "This is my fist" chorus ..resulting in : pure-downhill slalom punky-pop-magic.
mmmmm that reminds me: I love "This is my fist" ..so while you are at it listen to this puppy for an idea of where pop-punk might lead when you cut the saccharine with a bit of strychnine , snort a couple of lines of it and find something to get REALLY pissed off about.
