So here I am again walking in through the entrance of Q Bar. I’m ascending the scraggy and forlorn steps trying to convince myself I wasn’t a little out of breath after the climb. But it’s all very different. The sun is shining through the windows on the faces of band members unpacking their instruments. The clubbing crowd is missing, tucked away along with the turntables and DJ booths. CD cases have been replaced by guitars and amps. On the elevated dancefloor now stands a stage.
The brain child of promoter Select Music, Essential Festival spans the Exchange Hotel complex with stages in Qbar, Spectrum and the Oxford Art Factory. If you were prepared to weave around people in a fire escape, one ticket bought you a giant three-storey iPod. Forget skipping that track or making a play list. Set it on shuffle, finish off your drink and check out what the next bar has to offer. There were no light shows, shufflers or chatter boxes choking on their gum in the corner (an environment that can be fun sometimes…sometimes). Instead at every stage stood a crowd transfixed around an up-and-coming Australian band trying to make a mark, build a following and have some of fun.
Before endlessly planning out who I should see, I decided to wander as I pleased, confident that I would stumble on something that would take my fancy. There on the stage at Qbar, clad in the very un-rock ‘n’ roll ensemble of black suit jacket and buttoned shirt stood Shaun Mitchell, the frontman of Perth band December Seven. They, like so many bands coming out of Perth, were well rehearsed and flawless but lacking in a unique sound.
That kind of Sydneysider pretentious criticism led me to wander the three storey music collection in search of someone trying hard to be new. Within minutes it turned out I didn’t have to try very hard at all. I walked into the back of crowd packed densely against the wall, keeping a safe distance from the harmless musicians up ahead. Traps, a band from Sydney as it turns out, didn’t stand up to any truly unique ideology. However, they pulled an ever-growing group of onlookers to join the rest of those dwelling against the venue’s boundaries. It was indie rock, plain and simple. It was gelled together by forceful vocals and wailing guitars, but it felt new. Even though I had a horde of talented headliners to go, Traps had already made the afternoon worthwhile.
Following the same theme as before, my feet dragged me further down into the Oxford Art Factory’s uber-trendy depths. There I found a much more populated venue, with an audience gently tapping their feet along to Tennis. These ‘80s pop/rock revivalists oozed cool, from their pointed leather shoes to their matching fringe haircuts. It’s not uncommon to find a synth or midi console in rock bands these days, but soulful vibrato vocals and an endless pool of energy separated the band from the stereotypes. Essential Festival is, after all, about the music and performance.
Which leads me from a satisfying set from Tennis to the outrageous and memorable presence of Young & Restless. Having my back turned to the stage trying to find a place to leave my empties kept me oblivious to their speedy and silent entrance. Just as a delayed applause began to pick up, rocking geisha Karina Utomo was screaming into the mic. Dropping my ill-fated plastic schooner, I turned to find a band almost inanimate: except for its frontwoman moving about the stage like a darting moth. Light as a feather went to thick and heavy, as Young & Restless changed the tone of the festival for an exhilarating half hour. Utomo leapt onto outstretched hands and talked the crowd into a timid circle of death, while the rest of the band proved their worth with tight and punchy performance.
At this point there was a break, dinner run, breath of fresh air and another visit to the bar. By this time, I was back in Qbar on a passing recommendation, leaving the packed-out Oxford Art Factory below. There I found the Atrocities, clad in flannel and black cowboy hats. Things got even heavier. It was like a ho-down with a death metal theme: music as thick and as stark as mud pressed down on the audience’s shoulders.
Back in Oxford Art Factory, Dappled Cities punched balloons around the stage in front of a club at full capacity. Despite playing out of their skin, Essential Festival had already been a complete success. There were no subjects for complaint, an awesome venue and an appreciative crowd. Entertained by the blue orbs floating around the ceiling, we all watched on, assured that Australian music (parts of it at least) is in safe hands.
Published @ www.fasterlouder.com.au
Link: http://www.fasterlouder.com.au/reviews/events/18194/Essential-Festival--Oxford-Art-Factory-and-Exchange-Hotel-Sydney-250409.htm
Showing posts with label gig review. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gig review. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
Children Collide @ The Annandale Hotel
Prying my foot from the sticky floor, I looked around the interior of the Annandale Hotel – a diminutive but popular venue nestled against the eternally busy Parramatta Road. The stage was crowded with light, leads, pedals and amps being tweaked by a hunched sound engineer crammed against the far wall.
Once I dislodged my foot from the dried alcohol on the floor and started to walk around, I noticed another interesting aspect of the layout. The pokies (despite still being around) were removed far enough away from the music not to bother anyone. Why can’t all venues in Sydney be like this one?
The Annandale’s charm may well be why its events are always so popular. It’s a venue for music and nothing else. On this muggy Friday night, Children Collide were visiting with their upbeat, punchy sound that was sure to send the small pub into a frenzy.
But first the three-piece Border Thieves lulled the milling crowd from the adjoining rooms. Dedicating their set to the pirates off the coast of Kenya (for “having a go”) the band filled the room with a soulful twist on indie. Sounding like a mixture of Sonic Youth and The Stone Roses, Border Thieves were engaging yet derivative. The event photographers had their work cut out for them as singer/guitarist Kat Harley and bassist Joel Werner battled their instruments and posed like stadium rock stars.
As Border Thieves retreated in search of a stolen beer, the crowd buzzed in anticipation. Conversations about managing to get tickets to the sold-out event were the hot topic. The chattering was broken short by the arrival of Regular John, sporting long hair and matching emaciated frames. At first the onslaught of rock ‘n’ roll captured everyone’s attention. The songs Language and We Spell Love… were so energetic and powerful they ignited a flurry of bobbing heads and fists punching the air. However, as the set continued, Regular John’s repetitive set-list cleared the room somewhat, as they lost the interest of a distracted audience. For all of their talent, the band’s full-throttle party sound slowly wore thin.
It was well and truly Children Collide’s night. The venue reached capacity while adoring fans continued to stream in. As a brief sound check was performed behind a lowered projector screen, screams of excitement filled the air as soon as any head revealed itself. Wedged between sweaty bodies, I easily forgot all of my discomforts as the white barrier was raised and We Are Amphibious burst my eardrums. It was only possible to see brief glimpses of the stage whilst yelling “it was so long, so long ago” amongst the manic throng. The crowd’s sheer enthusiasm shocked frontman Johnny Mackay into a broad smile that he couldn’t wipe from his face for the entire gig. With the announcement of every song from Across the Earth to Marie Marie, Pt. 2 it was near impossible to hear any music over the ecstatic cheering.
Every ounce of praise was well deserved. Children Collide are born performers, working the stage with an unchallenged energy and intensity. Fans leapt along with Johnny as he pummeled his guitar back and worth, head slung low around his knees. Bassist Heath Crawley and drummer Ryan Ceasar added their own flawless and practiced elements to the performance. Even as the comparatively down-tempo Farwell Rocketship came wailing through the speakers, no one could slow down. That was of course until we were all treated to a majestic cover of Walking on the Moon by The Police. Effortlessly making it their own, Children Collide held the crowd in silent awe as Johnny rivaled Sting’s falsetto.
Don’t miss another opportunity to see this band live. The smiles and laughter of the post-show rabble that spilled out onto Parramatta Road was testament to Children Collide’s awesome ability and talent. This was an unforgettable gig.
Published @ www.fasterlouder.com.au
Link: http://www.fasterlouder.com.au/reviews/events/18062/Children-Collide--The-Annandale-Hotel-170409.htm
Sunday, April 5, 2009
The Big British Sound @ The Paddington Town Hall
The Big British Sound was a strange beast. Outside of festivals it's rare to find live gigs that are hosted by a corporate partner with such a heavy influence over the event. Unsurprisingly Ben Sherman dressed The Paddington Town Hall in blue and white lights on Friday night, nostalgically celebrating that 1960s British chic. The main hall was draped in photos of double decker buses and young mods driving scooters while each set was followed by popular British hits from The Stone Roses to The Ting Tings.
On the surface it looked like a great event, albeit a little cliched. The Paddington Town Hall’s luxuriously large space hovered over a comparatively diminutive crowd. The large hall peppered with people clumped in groups or just sitting against the wall, which had no shortage of Ben Sherman paraphernalia. From the fashion label’s symbols to Andy Warhol-esque portraits of Mr Sherman himself, everyone was constantly and shamelessly reminded of who was running the party. At the bar the Sosume DJs danced by themselves with an uplifting enthusiasm that, according to the wandering crowd, was not contagious.
It was this constant wandering brought about by the event’s layout that detracted from the diverse and talented lineup. As beautiful as it may be The Paddington Town Hall provided too much space. The bar was located outside of the enormous main hall and oddly short sets (half an hour to forty-five minutes) were separated by a 20 minute block of aimlessly put together “British music.” The result was a constant flux of people walking in and out, buying drinks and occupying themselves form balcony to balcony waiting for some live music.
Before I knew it Art vs Science had left the stage and The Seabellies were announcing their final song. A shame as these two speedy sets were the real highlight. Art vs Science enveloped the room with their happy-go-lucky electro pop, which at times assaulted the ears but nevertheless drew the small crowd together. The Seabellies were flawless. Vocalist Trent Grenell belted out each lyric at the top of his lungs, perfectly in pitch. Feet shuffled ever closer to the stage as we were all introduced to a band with vast amounts of talent. Their set finished with a cover of Rod Stewart's Young Turks. It was hard to see even a glimmer of Rod’s straightened hair as The Seabellies had doused the 1980s hit with a fresh coat of their own originality. It was disappointing to see them walk off stage leaving everyone to another twenty minute block with little to do.
In good time Jack Ladder gathered everyone back in the main hall. After a shakey set at his previous gig supporting The Duke Spirit I was happy to have another opportunity to see a comfortable performance. Again Jack quickly opened with The Barber’s Son a track dripping with his unique, soulful essence. I always feel a sense of anticipatory excitement at the future of Jack Ladder as his awkward body and startlingly smooth voice lather the crowd with this song. I stood thinking, “now I’ll see Jack Ladder really nail it.” But that was not to be the case. Standing before him was a crowd bemused. As the rapture of The Barber’s Son wore off I looked around too see those shuffling feet, shuffle away. You need to be close to that voice in a small dark room heavily clad with smoke. The clean cut feel of The Big British Sound was not the place. Once again Jack Ladder performed a set misunderstood.
When wonder kids Tame Impala coasted on stage it was refreshing to see less floor as fans poured into the over sized hall dancing with little inhibition. Modular took a big risk with this relatively young band from Perth but their talent is unquestionable and for the first time in the night I saw everyone really enjoying themselves. Since their last few Sydney gigs in 2008 the set list hasn’t changed and that Boy Blue cover is still a staple. So it’s no surprise that there was a repetitive nature to Tame Impala’s live performances. Each song starts with a kick ass riff that has the crowd chanting along. Then without fail everyone is taken on a long minimalist psychedelic journey that becomes predictable. I look forward to seeing Tame Impala diversify their live performance, breaking up their solos and a daring to be more flamboyant in their jams onstage.
After a night that felt like a light bulb being switched on and off *Little Red* delivered a very appropriate closing set. Simple and fun there is no question that every song of Little Red’s has been inspired by 1960s British rock ‘n’ roll. The hall was transformed into a scene from Grease as the band performed with popped collars and broad grins. At last the space was being used as intended. The intensity of the previous bands washed away as a party atmosphere brought The Big British Sound to a close.
Published @ www.fasterlouder.com.au
Link: http://www.fasterlouder.com.au/reviews/events/17864/The-Big-British-Sound--Paddington-Town-Hall-Sydney--03042009.htm
On the surface it looked like a great event, albeit a little cliched. The Paddington Town Hall’s luxuriously large space hovered over a comparatively diminutive crowd. The large hall peppered with people clumped in groups or just sitting against the wall, which had no shortage of Ben Sherman paraphernalia. From the fashion label’s symbols to Andy Warhol-esque portraits of Mr Sherman himself, everyone was constantly and shamelessly reminded of who was running the party. At the bar the Sosume DJs danced by themselves with an uplifting enthusiasm that, according to the wandering crowd, was not contagious.
It was this constant wandering brought about by the event’s layout that detracted from the diverse and talented lineup. As beautiful as it may be The Paddington Town Hall provided too much space. The bar was located outside of the enormous main hall and oddly short sets (half an hour to forty-five minutes) were separated by a 20 minute block of aimlessly put together “British music.” The result was a constant flux of people walking in and out, buying drinks and occupying themselves form balcony to balcony waiting for some live music.
Before I knew it Art vs Science had left the stage and The Seabellies were announcing their final song. A shame as these two speedy sets were the real highlight. Art vs Science enveloped the room with their happy-go-lucky electro pop, which at times assaulted the ears but nevertheless drew the small crowd together. The Seabellies were flawless. Vocalist Trent Grenell belted out each lyric at the top of his lungs, perfectly in pitch. Feet shuffled ever closer to the stage as we were all introduced to a band with vast amounts of talent. Their set finished with a cover of Rod Stewart's Young Turks. It was hard to see even a glimmer of Rod’s straightened hair as The Seabellies had doused the 1980s hit with a fresh coat of their own originality. It was disappointing to see them walk off stage leaving everyone to another twenty minute block with little to do.
In good time Jack Ladder gathered everyone back in the main hall. After a shakey set at his previous gig supporting The Duke Spirit I was happy to have another opportunity to see a comfortable performance. Again Jack quickly opened with The Barber’s Son a track dripping with his unique, soulful essence. I always feel a sense of anticipatory excitement at the future of Jack Ladder as his awkward body and startlingly smooth voice lather the crowd with this song. I stood thinking, “now I’ll see Jack Ladder really nail it.” But that was not to be the case. Standing before him was a crowd bemused. As the rapture of The Barber’s Son wore off I looked around too see those shuffling feet, shuffle away. You need to be close to that voice in a small dark room heavily clad with smoke. The clean cut feel of The Big British Sound was not the place. Once again Jack Ladder performed a set misunderstood.
When wonder kids Tame Impala coasted on stage it was refreshing to see less floor as fans poured into the over sized hall dancing with little inhibition. Modular took a big risk with this relatively young band from Perth but their talent is unquestionable and for the first time in the night I saw everyone really enjoying themselves. Since their last few Sydney gigs in 2008 the set list hasn’t changed and that Boy Blue cover is still a staple. So it’s no surprise that there was a repetitive nature to Tame Impala’s live performances. Each song starts with a kick ass riff that has the crowd chanting along. Then without fail everyone is taken on a long minimalist psychedelic journey that becomes predictable. I look forward to seeing Tame Impala diversify their live performance, breaking up their solos and a daring to be more flamboyant in their jams onstage.
After a night that felt like a light bulb being switched on and off *Little Red* delivered a very appropriate closing set. Simple and fun there is no question that every song of Little Red’s has been inspired by 1960s British rock ‘n’ roll. The hall was transformed into a scene from Grease as the band performed with popped collars and broad grins. At last the space was being used as intended. The intensity of the previous bands washed away as a party atmosphere brought The Big British Sound to a close.
Published @ www.fasterlouder.com.au
Link: http://www.fasterlouder.com.au/reviews/events/17864/The-Big-British-Sound--Paddington-Town-Hall-Sydney--03042009.htm
Saturday, March 28, 2009
The Duke Spirit @ The Oxford Art Factory
The Duke Spirit Australian tour promoting their sophomore album Neptune has been surrounded by an excitable hype prompting each venue and ticketing agency to reveal their own personal anticipation. On their event page Mostix announced “Wow! We cant believe its actually happening - the mighty Duke Spirit are finally breaking from their relentless UK and US touring to visit their avid fan base down-under!” At the same time it was FasterLouder’s gig of the week.
So it’s no surprise that such candid eagerness evolved into an intoxicating buzz as word of the night jumped from blog to blog and at last it arrived. Before The Oxford Art Factory got an opportunity to open its doors a small bunch of animated fans began to collect on the foot path. As the bouncers pulled back the rope barrier in front of the entrance punters came streaming out of all of the adjacent pubs bringing a lively vibe to to the venue that hadn’t even had a chance to start playing some background music.
It’s always hard to ignore the manufactured cool of The Oxford Art Factory. Brick walls perfectly manicured to look warn and industrial are met with clean sheets of glass and edgy black bench tops. But it all feels so in place when the DJs fire up a few tracks as your crammed between hordes trying to get a few drinks.
Just as I was checking the set times black curtains parted to reveal a stage billowing with smoke and as it began to clear Jack Ladder stepped forward clutching the mic, black guitar hung around his neck. His opening grabbed the attention of a splintered crowd grouped for conversation and his velvety voice turned everyone’s heads in his direction. The recent winner of the Red Bull Award In Recognition Of Outstanding Potential began to really prove his worth. There were tones of blues, soul and rock backed by his pulsating and anguished voice as his awkwardly tall frame writhed knock kneed on stage. It was all going so well until his second song was delayed by a lengthy re-tuning session that led some ungrateful audience members to yell “your first gig mate?” Jack responded politely without making much fuss but the incident seemed to effect his nerves drawing the punchy rock sound away from his unquestionable talent. Instead the rest of his performance was cautiously timid.
Jack Ladder finished his set while the crowd looked upon him with a sense of impatience. Bodies started to pack into the centre of the club quietly searching for the best view. As the striking blond hair of Leila Moss appeared from behind purple smoke and drawn curtains the crowd quivered but never broke out into dance. Amidst fans standing still I watched as Moss’s figured jumped around on stage like the perfect front woman. Throwing about her mic stand in-between innumerable changes of percussion instruments. Her voice filled the room as The Step And The Walk was performed with such character and precision it blew the recorded version of the water. But my personal favourite was a grungey and hard hitting rendition of This Ship Was Built To Last.
The hype was justified. Flawless vocals were backed by a practiced and clinical band standing like thin black pillars around Moss. Luke Ford and Toby Butler kept to their own corners as if they were afraid of being seen. Carefully strumming out each note without a hitch. At first I thought this was simply there ‘look’ but when they both let rip during the encore I couldn’t help but think what could have been had they both been as animated during the whole performance.
I stood, like everyone, in awe and just plain happy to watch some solid rock ‘n’ roll again. The Dukes Spirit are true masters of building up and breaking down rhythm. Each slow ballad seemed like it was perfectly in place. Once all was said and done the band quickly left the stage without to much to say. But looking around me I could tell everyone had just seen a truly great gig.
Published @ www.fasterlouder.com.au
Link: http://www.fasterlouder.com.au/reviews/events/17752/The-Duke-Spirit--The-Oxford-Art-Factory-Sydney-260309.htm
So it’s no surprise that such candid eagerness evolved into an intoxicating buzz as word of the night jumped from blog to blog and at last it arrived. Before The Oxford Art Factory got an opportunity to open its doors a small bunch of animated fans began to collect on the foot path. As the bouncers pulled back the rope barrier in front of the entrance punters came streaming out of all of the adjacent pubs bringing a lively vibe to to the venue that hadn’t even had a chance to start playing some background music.
It’s always hard to ignore the manufactured cool of The Oxford Art Factory. Brick walls perfectly manicured to look warn and industrial are met with clean sheets of glass and edgy black bench tops. But it all feels so in place when the DJs fire up a few tracks as your crammed between hordes trying to get a few drinks.
Just as I was checking the set times black curtains parted to reveal a stage billowing with smoke and as it began to clear Jack Ladder stepped forward clutching the mic, black guitar hung around his neck. His opening grabbed the attention of a splintered crowd grouped for conversation and his velvety voice turned everyone’s heads in his direction. The recent winner of the Red Bull Award In Recognition Of Outstanding Potential began to really prove his worth. There were tones of blues, soul and rock backed by his pulsating and anguished voice as his awkwardly tall frame writhed knock kneed on stage. It was all going so well until his second song was delayed by a lengthy re-tuning session that led some ungrateful audience members to yell “your first gig mate?” Jack responded politely without making much fuss but the incident seemed to effect his nerves drawing the punchy rock sound away from his unquestionable talent. Instead the rest of his performance was cautiously timid.
Jack Ladder finished his set while the crowd looked upon him with a sense of impatience. Bodies started to pack into the centre of the club quietly searching for the best view. As the striking blond hair of Leila Moss appeared from behind purple smoke and drawn curtains the crowd quivered but never broke out into dance. Amidst fans standing still I watched as Moss’s figured jumped around on stage like the perfect front woman. Throwing about her mic stand in-between innumerable changes of percussion instruments. Her voice filled the room as The Step And The Walk was performed with such character and precision it blew the recorded version of the water. But my personal favourite was a grungey and hard hitting rendition of This Ship Was Built To Last.
The hype was justified. Flawless vocals were backed by a practiced and clinical band standing like thin black pillars around Moss. Luke Ford and Toby Butler kept to their own corners as if they were afraid of being seen. Carefully strumming out each note without a hitch. At first I thought this was simply there ‘look’ but when they both let rip during the encore I couldn’t help but think what could have been had they both been as animated during the whole performance.
I stood, like everyone, in awe and just plain happy to watch some solid rock ‘n’ roll again. The Dukes Spirit are true masters of building up and breaking down rhythm. Each slow ballad seemed like it was perfectly in place. Once all was said and done the band quickly left the stage without to much to say. But looking around me I could tell everyone had just seen a truly great gig.
Published @ www.fasterlouder.com.au
Link: http://www.fasterlouder.com.au/reviews/events/17752/The-Duke-Spirit--The-Oxford-Art-Factory-Sydney-260309.htm
Monday, December 15, 2008
MGMT, Tame Impala & Luke Steele @ The Horden Pavilion
My arms pressed firmly against my torso, I gazed from side to side at the mass of sweaty fans rumbling with excitement. My back damp from hundreds pushing, jumping and looking about. Heads bobbed back and forth trying to find the best view of an empty stage. Some squeezed in where there was no space, others politely moved backwards despite themselves. Swaying back and forth at random we all tried our best to remain in the one space we had worked for hours to hold. Waves of screams, jeers and cheers crashed against the stage. The roadie checking the mic was a star for 5 minutes. The stage empty again was about to hold one of the most hotly anticipated and highly criticized bands of the year. In a crowd of teenage girls and girly looking teenage boys I started to question my musical taste. But every other over 18 venue sold out just like this one. Who, after all, can question the force of this crowd.
But before the storm, amidst the drizzle of a small collection of excited punters I stood with great interest awaiting Tame Impala’s opening set. As the four of them awkwardly walked on stage, worn denim hanging about their spindly legs I couldn’t believe how young they were. As a band they are well rehearsed and tight. Their command of each instrument more than commendable. Their age, unbelievable. I wont go as far as to say they are band of prodigies but they are pretty damn good. If you haven’t invested in them yet maybe wait a couple of years. These boys should grow into something special. I admit all five of the songs contained a drawn out and slightly dull jam session that boarded on the passe. But as the song was in full flight the sea of heads around me packed itself closer to the stage and started to bob. As we stood the Horden slowly filled behind us, the once empty hall was now peppered by drinking and dancing revelers. Those packed in front of the stage started to feel the pressure building up behind them.
By the time an oddly oriental but ultimately farcical Luke Steele lumbered onstage there was no escape. I watched with reservation and only applauded because I thought I had to. I’ve never like Luke Steele’s work and I appreciated this performance even less. His music is written for one man, the very same standing on stage blowing his harmonica out of time with the drum machine. The very same beating the strings of his guitar over and over again with discord. Every time I looked behind me I was surprised at how little attention the crowd was paying to the stage. Groups conversed facing each other. It was just self indulgent noise, nothing more.
As soon as as his set was over things changed. Rows and rows of fans suddenly appeared. It was hard not get caught up in the throngs of anticipation. People ready to jump out of their skin and I can understand why. After listening to Oracular Spectacular many times I am well and truly in love with its originality and diversity. If this was the band that brought me all the emotions in that album then hell I’m going to push right to the front myself.
On their entrance the crowd erupted. My ear drums assaulted by screaming fans rather than loud music. MGMT began to play and I was lost in the thick of it. As a completely biased fan the band played to a level that surpassed my expectations. My expectations, however, weren’t very high. I had read on multiple accounts that their live performances were lack luster. The vocals weak the band out of sync. Now they weren’t amazing but something has to be said for their presence. With only a few words spoken throughout the whole concert MGMT had it’s crowd's undivided attention. As we were introduced to a few new tracks things did calm down. But unlike some reviews I have read none of the vibe was lost.
I’m still undecided about MGMT, are they truly the musicians that can produce this kind of intoxicating energy and hype for an extended period? Only a second album will tell and from what I heard it wont be fair to ride them off yet.
When they walked off stage for the first time the crowd was abuzz. Each song had had a choir of thousands singing along with such enthusiasm it was hard not to smile. But something was missing... Kids. Enter the band and the song, an undeniable to hit. The crowd went berserk. A fitting end to a band that performed to the best of its ability but really just needed stand still onstage.
But before the storm, amidst the drizzle of a small collection of excited punters I stood with great interest awaiting Tame Impala’s opening set. As the four of them awkwardly walked on stage, worn denim hanging about their spindly legs I couldn’t believe how young they were. As a band they are well rehearsed and tight. Their command of each instrument more than commendable. Their age, unbelievable. I wont go as far as to say they are band of prodigies but they are pretty damn good. If you haven’t invested in them yet maybe wait a couple of years. These boys should grow into something special. I admit all five of the songs contained a drawn out and slightly dull jam session that boarded on the passe. But as the song was in full flight the sea of heads around me packed itself closer to the stage and started to bob. As we stood the Horden slowly filled behind us, the once empty hall was now peppered by drinking and dancing revelers. Those packed in front of the stage started to feel the pressure building up behind them.
By the time an oddly oriental but ultimately farcical Luke Steele lumbered onstage there was no escape. I watched with reservation and only applauded because I thought I had to. I’ve never like Luke Steele’s work and I appreciated this performance even less. His music is written for one man, the very same standing on stage blowing his harmonica out of time with the drum machine. The very same beating the strings of his guitar over and over again with discord. Every time I looked behind me I was surprised at how little attention the crowd was paying to the stage. Groups conversed facing each other. It was just self indulgent noise, nothing more.
As soon as as his set was over things changed. Rows and rows of fans suddenly appeared. It was hard not get caught up in the throngs of anticipation. People ready to jump out of their skin and I can understand why. After listening to Oracular Spectacular many times I am well and truly in love with its originality and diversity. If this was the band that brought me all the emotions in that album then hell I’m going to push right to the front myself.
On their entrance the crowd erupted. My ear drums assaulted by screaming fans rather than loud music. MGMT began to play and I was lost in the thick of it. As a completely biased fan the band played to a level that surpassed my expectations. My expectations, however, weren’t very high. I had read on multiple accounts that their live performances were lack luster. The vocals weak the band out of sync. Now they weren’t amazing but something has to be said for their presence. With only a few words spoken throughout the whole concert MGMT had it’s crowd's undivided attention. As we were introduced to a few new tracks things did calm down. But unlike some reviews I have read none of the vibe was lost.
I’m still undecided about MGMT, are they truly the musicians that can produce this kind of intoxicating energy and hype for an extended period? Only a second album will tell and from what I heard it wont be fair to ride them off yet.
When they walked off stage for the first time the crowd was abuzz. Each song had had a choir of thousands singing along with such enthusiasm it was hard not to smile. But something was missing... Kids. Enter the band and the song, an undeniable to hit. The crowd went berserk. A fitting end to a band that performed to the best of its ability but really just needed stand still onstage.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)