Sunday, 26 June 2016

Gold Class - 27 May 2016

Gold Class
Mere Women
Newtown Social Club, Newtown
Friday 27 May 2016
$17

Golden Oldies


The bald and the beautiful
Music and football are my two great loves and just lately they seem to be intersecting. Last Friday night I left the MCG after watching Hawthorn and went straight to 170 Russell to see The Drones. This week after watching the Swans play North Melbourne I found myself rushing from the Sydney Cricket Ground to the Newtown Social Club where Gold Class were playing. seriously, I only have two things going on in my life, you’d think I could arrange it so they weren’t happening simultaneously.

This blog ostensibly documents live music in Melbourne, but I was in Sydney to see Anohni at the Sydney Opera House for the Vivid festival. When planning the trip I noticed that Gold Class were playing in Newtown the night before, so having missed out on tickets to their Melbourne show, I picked up a couple for John and I to see their Sydney performance. It is easier, it seems, to go to Sydney to see Melbourne’s latest ‘it’ band.

When we subsequently noticed that there was a top of the table clash clash at the SCG on the same night, we thought, ‘well, when in Sydney…’ and endeavoured to see both. Unfortunately the Newtown Social Club is not as convenient to the SCG as 170 Russell is to the MCG, and our taxi driver seemed more intent on reading his text messages than getting us to the gig. So unfortunately we only saw half of their set.

The band room at the Newtown Social Club is a small space with the stage set up in the rear corner. Being late we just stood at the back, so all we could see was the bobbing bald heads of the band members. I couldn’t see what instruments they were playing, but the sound was strong and the energy in the room was pulsing.

Nor could I name the first couple of songs I heard, although one of them was from their excellent debut abum, It’s You. The closing four songs of their set were also from the album and were all delivered with a rollicking intensity that had the audience whooping and pogoing, at least for Life as a Gun, Furlong and Athena. They closed with Shingles, a quiet song with keyboard accompaniment and the only slow number in their repertoire. It concludes with a plea to ‘stay awhile’ and it’s a shame they didn’t heed their own advice and return for an encore.

The name ‘Gold Class’ may be synonymous with an overpriced and underwhelming cinema experience, but the band is a dynamic and exciting live act. There is a hint of raw early Joy Divivison, circa Still era, about their sound with its throbbing rhythm section, searing, scratchy guitar and the deep resonant vocals of Adam Curley, whose voice would add drama and gravitas to a recitation of the bar snacks menu at the Newtown Social Club.

The gig was a double bill with Mere Women, celebrating a joint seven-inch release by the two bands. We missed Mere Women but I did buy a copy of the single and their side Numb is every bit as good as Gold Class’ Standing at the Fault.

At a time when the lame synth pop of the 80s is being revived, it is some consolation at least that the classic post punk strains of the same era also has new outlets.


Setlist (part thereof)

?
?
Life as a Gun
Furlong
Athena
Shingles (Stay a While)



Tuesday, 7 June 2016

The Drones - 20 May 2016

The Drones
170 Russell, Melbourne
Friday 20 May 2015
$40

Chaotic, Cathartic and Just a Little Crowded



The view from my restricted viewing spot
 It was a rookie error. Booking a ticket to see The Drones on a Friday night without first checking the footy fixture. Sure enough, the Hawks were playing Sydney on the same night. So I was in a bind, but with Hawthorn star Jarryd Roughead’s cancer diagnosis during the week, all Hawks fans had to get along to the match to show their support.

Happily, when I checked the 170 Russell website on the morning of the gig I saw that The Drones were due on stage at 10.45pm, which I gauged was probably just enough time for me to get from the MCG to 170 Russell once the match finished. Particularly if we lost, as I then wouldn’t have to wait around to sing the club song at the end. Plus, what were the chances of the gig starting on time? In this I was counting on the customary lack of consideration that bands show their fans as they engage in a rock ‘n’ roll Dyonisian debauch backstage while the punters jostle for position in uncomfortable proximity to each other.

And I was correct on both fronts. The Hawks lost, which was of course disastrous, but at least it allowed me to make a quick exit from the ground. After edging across the singing Barack Bridge with the post-match crowd I reached the venue at around 11pm, and was descending the stairs just in time to hear the feedback squawl of Private Execution starting up.

Feelin Kinda Crowded

The gig, in a way, mirrored the football match I’d just seen; not just because Hawks, like drones, are airborne creatures, but because both events were stuttering, stop-start affairs. Like the Hawks, everytime the band seemed to be gaining a bit of momentum, they suddenly halted. In the case of the Hawks, they fiddled about with the ball at half-back or got hemmed in on the flank, whereas The Drones would be letting it rip with a driving beat, only for Gareth to crouch on the ground and fiddle with his pedals to extract a caustic feedback wail from his amp.

Things weren’t helped when only two songs in, they had to restart Taman Shud after Liddiard blew his amp. The early focus of the set understandably centred round newer material from Feelin Kinda Free, all songs that work well on record, but live, their bombastic dynamics emphasised the stilted momentum of the gig.

This was a sold out gig and the venue was packed with only restricted viewing spots available. I could see either the right hand side of the stage or the left hand side, but not both. So basically I had the choice of watching Dan Luscombe on guitar or Fiona Kitschin on bass. Naturally I chose Kitschin, despite the fact that she was playing with her back to the audience. For as handsome and debonair as Luscombe undoubtedly is, Kitschin is cuter. Plus Luscombe was playing with his customary laconic economy, i.e. playing one note out of every 10, while looking out at the crowd with an ‘I could tear this place up like Hendrix, I just choose not to’ expression.

The dense crowd also hampered my attempts to join friends Ralph and Nina who were on the far side of the venue. Eventually I edged around the back and found them, but they were also standing in a restricted viewing spot. However, if I half crouched and angled myself awkwardly to the right, I had a reasonable view of most of the band. In retrospect, I suspect that it was this awkward posture I was forced to adopt that affected my appreciation of the show.

Feelin Kinda Cathartic

In truth it was a pretty good gig, if not necessarily exhilarating. The new material, good as it is, might take a bit of time to flesh out in the live context. But the contributions of the trio of guest vocalists who joined the band on stage for Then They Came For Me, To Think That I Once Loved You and Shut Down SETI added an extra layer to the sound, even if it meant that it was nearly as crowded on stage as in the mosh pit. And these tracks, particularly Shut Down SETI have unusual time signatures and non-linear structures. They wouldn’t be any easier to play than they are to listen to.

Liddiard approached his task with his typical gusto, stretching his neck and spitting his invective upwards into the mike. And it was piercingly loud at times. But the crowd lapped it up, particularly when they launched into older numbers I See Seaweed, Six Ways to Sunday and I Don’t Ever Want To Change to close the set.

When they returned for the encore, Liddiard announced that they would do a song they hadn’t played for a few years. He then dug out the ominous opening notes of I Am the Supercargo and launched into the impassioned cautionary tale about the Papuans contact with white man. Most Drones songs sound like unsettling cautionary tales about something or other, but that might just be Liddiard’s acerbic and sardonic delivery mixed with their screeching, acrid guitars and dissonant beats.

They concluded the set with standard closer, Kev Carmody’s River of Tears. Equal parts chaotic and cathartic, the gig was also perhaps a little inconsistent. Of the three of us, Nina was the most impressed with the show. Whether this is indicative of the fact that she knows them more intimately and is therefore in the best position to judge, or because in her eyes they can do no wrong, I couldn’t say. My own view was somewhat tainted by the dispiriting result of the Hawthorn game and the equally dispiriting sight of the last tram to Airport West trundling off in the distance as I arrived at the tram stop.

Setlist

Private Execution
Taman Shud
The Minotaur
Boredom
Then They Came For Me
To Think That I Once Loved You
Shut Down SETI
I See Seaweed
Six Ways To Sunday
I Don’t Ever Want To Change
- - - - - - - - - - -
I Am the Supercargo

River of Tears



Note: I've been busy on other projects so I haven't been able to post for a few weeks, but I have been seeing plenty of music, including a trip to Sydney to Vivid, so will try and get the chapters up as soon as I can.

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Jess Ribeiro - 26 September 2015

Jess Ribeiro
Gorsha
Leah Senior Band

Northcote Social Cub
Saturday 26 September 2015
$15

Jess Kills It


An air of general good humour pervaded the Northcote Social Club for the occasion of Jess Ribeiro’s album launch for Kill It Yourself.

I don’t know if it was the weather, reasonably balmy, the fact that it was Saturday night, or that in a rare instance of political positivity, the ruling coalition government had overthrown arch conservative Tony Abbott as Prime Minister and installed instead, the more moderate and somewhat more urbane, Malcolm Turnbull at the helm of the country. It wasn’t just the leftie hipsters gathered in the Northcote Social Club that were happy about this news, the mood of the entire country seemed to have lifted in the week or so since it happened.

My own good mood I could put down to the fact that Hawthorn had, just the night before, won their way into another Grand Final, our fourth in succession, so already buoyed by the ousting of Abbott, my mood was verging on euphoric.

My friend Fiona, who accompanied me on this night, believes there is something in the Northcote Social Club itself that promotes cheery banter. She based this on the evidence of he rprevious visit. She had been there a few weeks earlier to see old indie curmudgeon Ed Kuepper and claims that even he smiled and joked with the crowd. And even though he’d once fronted a band called Laughing Clowns, that name was more ironic than descriptive.

On the night she saw Ed, Fiona said he played material from the soundtrack for the film ‘Last Cab To Darwin’ that had just opened in cinemas. This is the real link to the Jess Ribeiro gig, because most of the musicians in the various bands playing, as well as some of the crowd – there was a show of hands – also hailed from Darwin. Perhaps there is something about our northern most capital that evokes general chirpiness. Or they were just glad to be out of there.

Gorsha

We missed the first band on the bill, Leah Senior Band. However, Gorsha, the band that were playing when we wandered in, were from Darwin, as is Ribeiro herself. Gorsha is a three-piece comprising guitar, bass and drums with the guitarist taking vocal duties. Their music is a sort of swamp rock or punkabilly – reminiscent perhaps of The Scientists or The Moodists if one were to hark back to 80s antecedents. Even so, there was a freshness to the music and they played with energy and verve, enough to get a portion of the crowd – naturally standing well back from the stage – if not actually dancing, then moving a leg in tandem with the beat. Except the bloke next to me who had a Warren Ellis like beard and was taking notes. 

Even if you didn’t like the music, the between song banter between the guitarist and bass player was a highlight. They were like a stand-up duo feeding off each other and they used the chatter to try and disguise the lengthy guitar tuning interludes. I can’t repeat any of their lines, partly because I can’t recall them, but also because it was humour of the moment and it emerged through tone and delivery as much as the actual comments. In other words, you had to be there.

At one point the bass player acknowledged an audience member who was standing right at the front wearing a coat of what looked like white tiger fur, and said that last time they’d played the NSC there was a girl in a giant panda outfit, so clearly their demographic included hunters of endangered species. To the gentleman wearing the tiger fur he stressed, “Not that it doesn’t look great, it does, just that it probably looked better on the tiger.”

They clearly knew Jess Ribeiro from their hometown of Darwin and she had probably got them the gig, but that didn’t stop them from critiquing her rise to prominence, if a headlining show at the Northcote Social Club can be called prominence, to which she retaliated by heckling from the crowd.

Jess Ribeiro - These Shoes Are Made For Walking…literally

I was aware of Jess Ribeiro after reading an article in The Age in which she spoke about recording the album. I was sufficiently intrigued to have a listen on Spotify and I then bought the vinyl. She said in the interview that she’d been listening to PJ Harvey’s Let England Shake and was impressed by Mick Harvey’s production, so asked him to produce her new album. Happily he agreed, which explained why the legendary Bad Seed sauntered onto the stage with the band and plonked himself behind the keyboard.

The album is an understated little masterpiece – gently brooding music with noirish overtones, wry, enigmatic lyrics and Jess’ vocals not so much wafting over the top but melding nicely into the nooks and crannies of the music.

Ribeiro brought the same understated feel to her performance, which was evident in her outfit of shapeless taupe jacket, jeans and Asics. Okay, so I wasn’t expecting Beyonce bling or Gaga flamboyance, but some effort at showpersonship might have been nice. The band was togged out in variations of black denim, except of course Mick Harvey who was rocking his high pants look.

As well as Mick Harvey on keyboards, there was a chap introduced as Damien on drums, another on sax, possibly the Rob Law listed in the album credits, someone called George on lead guitar and Jade McInally on bass. She too was wearing runners – clearly it was a comfy shoe kind of band.

They opened with If You Were a Kelpie, after which Ribeiro informed us that the main refrain, ‘If you were a kelpie I’d shoot you’ was something her PE teacher used to say to her, suggesting why she might have sought out a career in the arts rather than sport – despite the Asics.

They followed this with Born To Ride, also from the album, before playing the title track, Kill It Yourself. Ostensibly this song is about the act of slaughtering a chicken for dinner, but it might also be read as political commentary on the Liberal Party’s recent leadership coup:
‘Sharpen the blade, don’t make a fuss,
As fast as you can, kill it yourself…unsentimental, kill it yourself.
Feathers plucked, God’s in the bucket,
Kill it yourself’

The set consisted of the album, just played in a different order. The band performed the songs well and Jess chatted amiably with audience and band between songs. She seemed like a charming person with a lovely warm gentle wit, in other words, way too nice for the rock music scene.

She responded to comments from the crowd and smiled to acknowledge people she knew. The general vibe was one of being among friends – it was possibly the most convivial gig I’ve ever attended. She changed the set list a couple of times, much to Mick Harvey’s confusion and also apologised to him for the inordinate amount of time she was taking to locate the G chord, saying “Sorry Mick, I know you’re a pro” at which precise point the amp chord fell from her guitar with perfect slapstick timing.

The set ended with Good Day that Ribeiro introduced by saying that the last time they’d played it the audience took their clothes off. Fiona went to oblige before Mick gestured that this sort of participation wasn’t really necessary.

The band returned for an encore, playing Unfamiliar Ground, also from the album, but which apparently they’d never played before, plus one more that I didn’t recognise.

Although not coming on until 11pm, it was all over just after midnight – just the right length. Fiona bought a cd on the way out and we were on our way. I was clearly still on a buzz from the Hawks victory and mentally preparing for another Grand Final week, so I took no notice of the actual set list and nor did I take any of my usual out of focus photos. But you don’t always need the details, sometimes just the vibe is enough and on this night it was more than sufficient.