en http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/uk/ Thu, 1 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 Thu, 1 Jan 1970 00:00:00 +0000 60 http://www.audioscrobbler.net/data/webservices http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal The Last.fm journal for MaxFactor81. Last.fm journals are a place to talk about all things music. http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2010/02/08/3ege87_porcupine_tree_%40_the_tivoli Mon, 8 Feb 2010 14:07:20 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2010/02/08/3ege87_porcupine_tree_%40_the_tivoli Fri 5 Feb – Porcupine Tree, Sleep Parade

As Neil Young once sang, tonight’s the night – the big music has arrived in town. Along with fellow prog-rock fans, young and old, I walk to The Tivoli with a sense of excitement that only those who have a copy of Arriving Somewhere DVD can truly understand. Only two months ago, I was privy to witnessing Japan’s divine noise makers Mono, whose performance proved to be one of the most singularly powerful live experiences in my entire life, and just before that another crushing live unit – Steven Wilson’s Swedish collaborators/protégés Opeth – yet this balmy evening also stores a whole array of spine-tingling moments for us.

The diverse crowd is still busy converging at the venue by the time newly-revamped Sleep Parade – who had earlier opened for tonight’s heroes during their inaugural Australian tour two ears ago – plug in and take all and sundry into a wide open sonic space. Oz-progsters to the core, the quartet unveil out one sprawling epic after another; Oxygen’s doomy arpeggio figure gives way to chunky riffing, while on the latest single Every Day and the propulsive drums-led Seconds Away the Melbournians very nearly better Karnivool at their own game. Frequently guitar-switching vocalist Leigh Davies is occasionally submerged in the dense instrumental mix, but nevertheless hits the requisite highs – in all, a strong performance in front of a healthy gathering that gives the band a warm Queensland welcome.

Having spent almost two years kicking myself for missing UK giants Porcupine Tree on their first-ever Down Under tour in 2008, I join the tsunami of cheers as the barefoot Steven Wilson leads his cohorts onstage and commences act one with an announcement that the band will play the first CD of last year’s masterful The Incident. As the shuddering distorted chords of Occam’s Razor segue into a scything Blind House, Danish artist Lasse Hoile’s exceptional-quality visuals start rolling on the screen and we leave the (blank) planet. Drummer Gavin Harrison and bassist Colin Edwin form a living, breathing engine room behind Wilson and longtime touring guitarist/backing vocalist John Wesley’s riff/solo onslaught and Richard Barbieri’s sublime synth soundscapes – “majestic musicianship” doesn’t seem fit to accurately describe it.

An intensely evocative, intelligent lyricist whose words take on a whole new level of meaning in a live environment and a guitarist of rare melodic power, Wilson sits at the piano for the two beautiful minutes of Kneel And Disconnect, then straps his guitar back on and leads the charge on the edgy Drawing The Line and the album’s alternately creepy/thunderous title number. Your Unpleasant Family again briefly soothes the air before the nostalgic, multi-part centre suite Time Flies – a stone-cold recent Porcupine Tree classic – stops a thousand-odd hearts in the room. Degree Zero Of Liberty revisits the album’s opening moments before another jaw-dropping sequence – Octane Twisted, The Séance and Circle Of Manias – is unleashed on our collective receptors; I Drive The Hearse’s fairytale-gone-wrong motif feels almost like a breather as it concludes act one.

Kicking off with the crowd-chanted ten-second countdown, the second half of the show is primarily devoted to the imperial “old stuff” – with a heavily-syncopated Start Of Something Beautiful from 2005’s Deadwing, the slow-burning Russia On Ice from 2000’s Lightbulb Sun being mere precursors to the following sonic tornado. Coming at us at a full force, the middle seven-plus minutes of Fear Of A Blank Planet’s mammoth centrepiece Anesthesize are positively devastating; there’s a brief moment of calm established by the beloved acoustic ballad Lazarus, which only makes the subsequent emotional storm of the immensely moving Way Out Of Here even more hard-hitting. Accompanied by Hoile’s striking “sad girl on the rail tracks” video, the song becomes a transcendental experience, Wesley soaring on the cathartic chorus and Wilson wringing the pain and sorrow from one of his many PRS guitars. The aching non-album Normal (from the Nil Recurring EP) adds another seven-minute of angst to our temporarily altered dimension and Bonnie The Cat (from The Incident’s disc two) sees the bespectacled genius venture into another galaxy with some extra-terrestrial guitar shrieks.

Ladies and gentlemen, we’re still floating in space by the time PT bow out with two chestnuts from 2002’s In Absentia – fan favourite The Sound Of Muzak, upon which Wilson introduces the band members (with a cheeky Down Under snippet accompanying the Melbourne-born Edwin), and the childhood-evoking Trains, the massed handclaps nearly drowning out the acoustic-strummed rhythm. “Always the summers are slipping away… when the evening reaches here, you're tying me up, I'm dying of love – it's OK”; words to live by and a fitting coda to the finest show of 2010 so far.

LifeMusicMedia]]> http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2010/02/07/3eewo7_porcupine_tree%2C_sleep_parade_%40_the_tivoli Sun, 7 Feb 2010 22:09:44 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2010/02/07/3eewo7_porcupine_tree%2C_sleep_parade_%40_the_tivoli Fri 5 Feb – Porcupine Tree, Sleep Parade

Hotly anticipated among the local music community, tonight’s event draws a positively eclectic crowd inside The Tivoli’s iconic walls as the metalheads in black T-shirts, curious indie kids and middle-aged couples converge in order to experience something that no DVD is able to replicate: an impossibly powerful live combination of sound and vision. To paraphrase the relevant song lyrics, we’re here to witness the start of something beautiful – or more accurately, the sonic gurus collapsing the light into Earth.

The warm-up honours for the occasion again fall on Melbournians Sleep Parade’s collective shoulders and the “sleepyheads” comfortably deliver. With a new guitarist and bass player in tow, the four-piece assemble a healthy gathering with their panoramic, distinctly Australian alt-prog. Frontman Leigh Davies changes guitars for practically every song, among which the sinister Oxygen, the Karnivool-like Every Day, Seconds Away and a lengthy new number are particularly impressive.

With everyone’s progressive rock bug now well and truly ticked, a colossal cheer meets the ever-bespectacled Steven Wilson and the rest of Porcupine Tree as the cult UK collective walk onstage. Occam’s Razor’s huge opening chords silence the house, the barefoot leader announcing his band will perform the entire first disc of last year’s sprawling masterpiece The Incident during act one and subsequently ripping into a furious Blind House.

From that moment on, we’re taken away by the veterans’ skills and impassioned delivery. The cast-iron rhythm section of the Melbourne-born bass wizard Colin Edwin and skins supremo Gavin Harrison is perhaps matchless in modern rock music, while Richard Barbieri remains one of the finest keyboard players since… well, his Japan days and touring guitarist John Wesley is a perfect vocal foil for Wilson – none more so than on the aching-then-bludgeoning Octane Twisted/The Séance/Circle Of Manias sequence. The punchy Drawing The Line is a cluster of electricity, the menacing title track thunders with its drop-tuned riff and an incredible twelve-minute centrepiece Time Flies makes this writer forget to collect his jaw from the floor. “Pink Floyd… who?” I dare whisper for the first time. Marilyn Manson, you were right for a change: this IS the new shit – and as a side note, what excellent visuals and deep lyrics…

A ten-minute break follows after the lullaby-like I Drive The Hearse, the exultant crowd voicing the last seconds of the on-screen countdown before Wilson and co return and commence act two with Deadwing’s sublime Start Of Something Beautiful. From 2000’s Lightbulb Sun, the ominous Russia On Ice far outstrips the recorded version for heaviness while a visceral, apocalyptic imagery-accompanied Anesthetize and a hugely emotive Way Out Of Here (both from 2007’s big-seller Fear Of A Blank Planet) further annihilate everyone’s senses. Fan favourite Lazarus and the Nil Recurring EP highlight Normal are moments of acoustic guitar-led beauty, however Wilson finds time to indulge in some prime “alien screaming” on Bonnie The Cat, snapping a string in the process.

Alas, all (extremely) good must end, and the extraordinary gentlemen encore with the audience-chanted In Absentia double of The Sound Of Muzak (“… one of the wonders of the world is going down… and no one cares”) and Trains, concluding the show that will be long talked about among Brisbane’s music fans on an elated note. Simply phenomenal; thank you and please come back soon, Mr Wilson.

Rave magazine

Porcupine Tree The Incident
Sleep Parade]]> http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2010/02/03/3dzxe1_raggamuffin_2010_%40_sidney_myer_music_bowl Wed, 3 Feb 2010 07:35:22 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2010/02/03/3dzxe1_raggamuffin_2010_%40_sidney_myer_music_bowl Sun 31 Jan – Raggamuffin Melbourne

In contrast with the rain-sodden Brisbane we left a couple days ago, it’s +35 by the time we cross St Kilda Rd on our way to the Sidney Myer Music Bowl, Melbourne’s dry heat eliminating whatever perspiration we work up. Weather swap? Seems highly likely – but then, a festival like Raggamuffin just wouldn’t have the same vibe to it on a decisively wet day.

Having listened to Kiwi reggae heavyweights House Of Shem (who we saw at last year’s Island Vibe) from afar, we encounter some perilously disorganised and blasé treatment from the ticket office people, which leads us to miss the entirety of Jamaican pop star Sean Kingston as we stand and wait to be admitted. It’s not a major loss, though, as the rotund partyman’s set is curtailed by sound problems; forward another 30 minutes and the punky reggae party commences in earnest as Birmingham, UK's veterans Steel Pulse take to the stage.

Augmented by searing (much like the afternoon sun) horns, the legendary combo pump out one bass-heavy riddim after another, prime rockers like Dread Squad, Catch Me If You Can and Open Sesame making the crowd swing and sway. By the time natty-dread frontman David Hinds yells out a hearty “Jah love, Jah bless!” and the Steinberger-wielding lead guitarist goes off on a very Eddie Van Halen-like tapping solo segueing into a thunderous rock coda, we know we’ve seen some top-grade roots rock reggae.

Seasoned festival regulars, locals Blue King Brown go about their “conscious roots” business as expected. A multi-limbed drum solo kicks off the funk/ragga/dancehall-inflected performance and from then on, it’s a gradually increasing dance frenzy – a fiery rhumba workout is a treat, however I can’t help but note that the band truly shine on brief covers of Bob Marley’s Is This Love? and The Police’s Roxanne (one of BKB’s backing singers completely stealing the show) rather than their own tunes. Sporting more blue eyeshadow than an ‘80s soap star, the ever-energetic singer Natalie Pa'apa'a takes time to acknowledge the traditional owners of this land, past and present – something I don’t personally have a problem with – but then loses me with an extended sermon about “conscious youth” and activism. A Billy Jean sample, the opening lick from Acca Dacca’s immortal Thunderstruck and a closing cameo by House Of Shem’s vocal trio round off the solid, if unnecessarily politically charged performance.

Just as BKB finish, the weather takes a turn for the wet, the sun disappearing behind the menacing-looking clouds and the air temperature automatically dropping by a good 15 degrees in a time-honoured Melbourne fashion. This, however, does not seem to affect the collective celebratory mood in the slightest as the Jamaican vibe and the pot fug keep hanging thick. The covered space now being chock-full, a deafening ovation greets Julian Marley, who instantly makes it very clear he’s here to have fun. A spitting image of his father in a denim pair and flailing his mile-long dreadlocks, the light-skinned progeny spreads out Positive Vibration like nobody’s business, giving half-brother Ziggy (who closed last year’s Raggamuffin) a run for his money with his gravity-defying dance moves and impassioned vocal delivery. Newie On The Floor explodes like a bomb, Julian’s backing band firing on all cylinders and revving up further by the time he again summons Bob’s spirit on Riches Of The World and an euphoric Exodus. A worthy contender for the Rasta crown? Ya mon!

With nearly four decades of beautiful music behind their shoulders, Kingston, Jamaica’s riddim extraordinaires Sly Dunbar & Robbie Shakespeare are perhaps the main reason I’m here today – and deliver with gusto, even though one could assume they’re slightly under-rehearsed. Deadset characters just like their accompanying musicians – who memorably include the Santa-styled keyboard player Morpheus-resembling guitarist, the skins-and-four-string wizards cook up a dense reggae and dub stew, overcoming earlier sound issues and saving their show from turning into a beautiful disaster like the consummate professionals they are. A pumped-up guest MC takes over the vocal duties during the medley-heavy second half of the set, the crowd going apeshit to reggae standards like You’re No Good, Revolution and Life Without Music; a snippet from Mambo Italiano proves to be an entertaining, if somewhat incongruous, inclusion and the concluding bass-solo finale (which sees the “I’m not leaving just yet!”-defiant Robbie being assisted by Sly, who – literally – hammers out the rhythm on the former’s strings with his magical drumsticks). Utterly unforgettable – bring on the original-lineup Compass Point Sessions tour with Grace Jones, please!

The rain clears just as unexpectedly as it has started and we rush back into the seating area following a brief dinner break. Raggamuffin 2010’s biggest draw in the absence of Wyclef Jean, soul/R&B/hip hop diva Lauryn Hill takes her time to come onstage, instead letting her crack backing band entertain the increasingly impatient audience with a mishmash of pop-reggae standards – but when she appears among a hurricane of eardrum-obliterating whoops and turns into an electrical-storm-on-legs through the furiously-paced opener Lost Ones, we’ve well and truly forgiven her. Looking resplendent in a ‘70s-inspired outfit and holding perfect balance on her towering high heels, the pint-sized Ms Hill sings like a Motown legend, raps like nobody’s business, prompts massed “ready or not, here I come, you can’t hide – gonna find you and take it slowly” chants with The Fugees classic Ready Or Not, duets with Julian Marley on Bob’s lilting Turn Your Lights Down Low and once again sends the place into spasms with the closing signature cut Doo Wop (That Thing). As Austin Powers used to say, groovy baby!

Great entertainment value as always, Shaggy rounds off the festival on an elated note. Kicking off with a super-cheesy 21st Century Fox intro just like the last time around, the deep-voiced Mr Lova Lova ignites the Music Bowl with Boombastic, Oh Carolina and Angel (aka his three big hits), wisecracking and humping the air much to everyone’s delight. The evergreen In The Summertime and It Wasn’t Me give way to much more risqué oeuvre such as Hey Sexy Lady and Moist & Wet, but we’re loving every single second of it. The crowd doing Mexican waves and stomping in abandon along to the ragga/dancehall beats the piece de resistance arrives in the shape of Sly & Robbie joining the lothario on a medley of his earlier tracks (which the legendary producers helmed) and the Raggamuffin All-Stars-featuring coda (minus the “I’m a bigger star” Lauryn Hill) of Beat The Rush.

And thus ends the alternately sun-scorched/rain-soaked day of fantastic fun, great vibes and life-affirming music. Irie!

TheAuReview]]> http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2010/01/27/3de3b6_lovers_of_modern_art%2C_the_horrortones%2C_the_cheats_%40_the_troubadour Wed, 27 Jan 2010 10:47:41 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2010/01/27/3de3b6_lovers_of_modern_art%2C_the_horrortones%2C_the_cheats_%40_the_troubadour Fri 22 Jan – Lovers Of Modern Art - album launch

Steaming hot both in- and outside, this Friday night is relatively quiet by The Troub's standards – however the music on offer is anything but. First up, Melbourne "party-rock" duo The Cheats assemble a small dancing throng via a clutch of dirty garage-blues stompers, yet it’s the punky cover of The Sweet’s glam-rock anthem Ballroom Blitz that prompts the biggest cheers and requisite air-guitaring.

With two of the three Vegas Kings (who had earlier pulled out due to the drummer’s injury) members in the lineup, Brisbane’s finest rock & soul combo The Horrortones blow all and sundry away with their horns-driven barnstormers, Ben Doherty’s libidinous bass groove bouncing off the walls. Man-mountain Pete Collins ultraglides in black (© The Dirtbombs), towering on the ripsnortin’ Boom Swagger, Wasted and Whole Lotta Woman, making this reviewer wonder “King Khan who?” along the way.

The latest – and perhaps finest – addition to South East Queensland’s “no bass” legion, Lovers Of Modern Art turn their debut album launch into a kickarse rock & roll show. Opening with a no-frills Come On, singer/guitarist Brian L’Huillier, organist/thereminist Silas Palmer and drummer Dave Kemp furiously attack their respective instruments, threatening to spontaneously combust on Pickin’ Up What You’re Puttin’ Down, Eyes On You, the lurching Girl’s On Fire and jerky I Got The Shakes. Two last words? Genuine Copy.

Rave magazine]]> http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2010/01/20/3co89c_big_day_out_2010_%40_gold_coast_parklands_-_theaureview Wed, 20 Jan 2010 07:01:11 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2010/01/20/3co89c_big_day_out_2010_%40_gold_coast_parklands_-_theaureview Sun 17 Jan – Big Day Out 2010

Big Day Out 2010, here we come. In contrast to pleasant cloudy weather at last year’s event, it is so hot today you could practically cook eggs in the sunrays (cue plenty of exposed flesh, Southern Cross tatts, silly sombreros etc in the crowd) by the time we arrive on the Gold Coast – so we slip, slop, slap and adjust our wide-brimmed hats.

Too late for Karnivool and Decoder Ring, we slice through throngs of already-inebriated revelers on our way to the Parklands, Mastodon’s saturated distortion echoing wide around the area. Rich on squealing pinched harmonics and bone-crushing riffage, the US prog-metallers’ first Australian appearance is as impressive as you would expect from a highly technical heavy music unit, however we don’t get to see axeman Brett Hinds demonstrate his entire arsenal as we set on a tough mission to find a shaded spot near the Orange Stage.

“Hello, Australia!” yells Kasabian’s newly-shorn frontman Tom Meighan to thunderous crowd roar before Leicester’s dance-rockers set about their Madchester-inspired business. The band’s latest opus West Ryder Pauper Lunatic Asylum is represented by the fearsome set opener Vlad The Impaler and hits Underdog, Where Did All The Love Go?, Fast Fuse and Fire, all met with massed chants and much pogoing – yet it’s older stompers Shoot The Runner and Empire and bass-driven calling card Club Foot that send everyone apeshit.

At the neighbouring Blue Stage, Fremantle, WA’s pop-rock royalty Eskimo Joe launch straight into what’s essentially a slick greatest hits set. Kav Temperley’s familiar, ever-so-slightly squawky voice doesn’t especially grate as the combo churn out one radio staple after another – From The Sea, Black Fingernails Red Wine, Foreign Land etc – however we decide not to stick around too long seeing as one of last year’s biggest “buzz bands” have already assumed control of the Converse tent.

Bearers of “this year’s MGMT” tag, Bostoners Passion Pit perhaps didn’t realise how popular they’ve become with the Australian youth prior to their BDO showcase. Afro-sporting singer Michael Angelakos appears a tad gobsmacked by the size of the crowd and the reaction the geeky synth-poppers generate, even urging the fiercely dancing fans not to hurt themselves; as a testament to the times, there’s a predictable mass exodus after PP’s big Triple J hit Sleepyhead, however the saucer-eyed indie disco vibe remains intact all the way until the end.

Rather sadly, literate US indie-rock stalwarts The Decemberists are hardly an arena act and can’t boast an audience like the act before them, barely half-filling the Green Stage tent. Check shirt-clad leader Colin Meloy, however, appears undeterred, getting lost in the music and fiercely strumming his acoustic as his band go through the Hazards Of Love highlights – The Rake’s Song getting the warmest reception – and cult favourites like the rousing Alright. There are ample folk and alt-country flourishes throughout and a rollicking, full-pelt sea shanty is pummelled out towards the end, but even then, Meloy’s intricate lyrics and deft melodicism require a closer inspection in a more intimate setting.

Initially a scuzzy goth-garage act when they came out in 2006, UK’s The Horrors today transcend even their highly successful stylistic reinvention as neo-shogazers with a performance that’s set to go down in the BDO lore as one of the festival’s all-time highlights. Beanpole frontman Faris Badwan leads the charge through the Primary Colours-dominated setlist, his formerly mannered vocals driving on the whooshy Mirror’s Image, Three Decades and New Ice Age and deep on the Cure-ish Scarlet Fields and JAMC-like slowburner I Only Think Of You. Capping off the jaw-droppingly powerful display, soaring singles Who Can Say and Sea Within A Sea raise collective goosebumps with their arresting synth motifs.

Having been blown away by the above quintet’s brilliance, we head back to the central stages for Lily Allen, which means pushing through the wildly stomping Dizzee Rascal crowd and having to endure a legion of sweaty, barely-dressed punters of both sexes go bonkers to the titular song and the Calvin Harris collaboration Dance Wiv Me. Miraculously, we manage to squeeze through the entrance to the Orange Stage area relatively unscathed after being compressed among dozens of tightly crammed bodies – all in time for the pint-sized Londoner to walk on.

Her one-piece attire revealing plenty of posterior, Lily can’t resist having a joke about her pubes being visible – much to the predominantly under-22 audience’s cheers. Endearingly brash and foul-mouthed, she’s a different kind of a pop entertainer than, say, any member of The Pussycat Dolls – unafraid to show that she doesn’t have a perfect body and freely speaking her mind while posessing talent in spades. Among the hits-packed set, staples LDN, Littlest Things and Smile meet an ecstatic response and the attitude-laden Fuck You summons a festival-sized singalong.

The Mars Volta’s ntricately structured compositions are more than a touch incongruous after the previous artist’s giddy pop delights, yet the Texas prog powerhouse roll onto the Blue Stage in fire-breathing juggernaut fashion. Singer Cedric Bixler-Zavala and guitarist Omar Rodríguez-López, both dressed according to ‘70s rock fashion, break out plenty of high-energy moves harking back to their At The Drive-In tenure, the former regularly launching the mic stand into the air and the latter twitching like an electro-shock recipient. The pounding guitar riffs and vice-tight instrumental interplay channel Led Zeppelin and King Crimson in their arena-slaying prime, but the requisite Hendrix-style noodling is kept to a minimum – in order for everyone to savour.

Back at the Converse Stage, we catch the last five minutes of Ladyhawke – which is enough for us to witness a crowd-igniting rendition of her ever-present hit My Delirium – and wait for the gender-bending diva Peaches, who surfaces in a gigantic pubes costume after her backing band assume their positions.

Playing to a full tent and changing her backline dancers and attire several times throughout, the former school teacher preaches her hedonistic message along to the robotic electro-rock grooves. Annoyingly, her strident vocals periodically get drowned out by the punishingly loud bass and we leave before signature ditty Fuck The Pain Away is aired. Comprehensively worn out by now, we stammer into the main area, sit down on the hill and watch the tail-end of Powderfinger, who tonight sound like your favourite pub rock band, in anticipation of this year’s headliners.

True to their form, Messrs Bellamy, Wolstenholme and Howard – aka neo-stadium rock giants Muse – instantly reignite the mass excitement with a pounding opening treble of Uprising, Supermassive Black Hole and Stockholm Syndrome. The trio’s most unabashedly “pop” number to date, Undisclosed Desires marries Kanye West with Depeche Mode while the overblown United States Of Eurasia allows for a nice stretch & yawn before Wolstenholme signals Hysteria’s crunchy bass riff and the front row re-commences moshing in earnest. The perennial Feeling Good is a treat, as are fan favourites Starlight and Time Is Running Out, yet The Resistance’s somewhat underwhelming title track and New Born rewrite Unnatural Selection fail to take off like the tried-and-tested old barnstormer Plug In Baby. As a grandscale final brush, Muse recite Ennio Morricone’s haunting The Man With The Harmonica before sealing the set and the festival with the humungous Knights Of Cydonia, Bellamy’s operatic vocals summoning Freddie Mercury’s spirit while his sonic-chameleon guitar spouts quasi-spaghetti western twang, ghostly UFO noises and towering Led Zep riffola. “Epic” doesn’t begin to describe it.

Ultimately, all good must end and both energy-depleted yours truly call it a Big Day Out, leaving the garbage-strewn Parklands behind us. No Groove Armada in the simmering-hot Boiler Room for this couple – but decent sleep and fresh memories of great live performances will do for now. Peace out!

TheAuReview]]> http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2010/01/19/3ckuo2_big_day_out_2010_%40_gold_coast_parklands Tue, 19 Jan 2010 04:11:30 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2010/01/19/3ckuo2_big_day_out_2010_%40_gold_coast_parklands Sun 17 Jan – Big Day Out 2010

My contributions to Rave's collective BDO review:

Ironically, the sun is scorching when UK heroes Kasabian unleash Vlad The Impaler upon the masses. The neo-Madchester vibe is high during the lad-rockers’ solid, West Ryder-heavy set – Underdog, Where Did All The Love Go?, Fast Fuse et al. – while older faves Shoot The Runner, Empire, The Doberman and Club Foot go down like bombs.

Playing to a comparatively modest gathering, monochrome-clad Londoners The Horrors steal the day with a thoroughly sublime performance. The quintet’s earlier goth-garage shtick is nowhere to be seen as Primary Colours tracks Mirror’s Image, Three Decades, Who Can Say and the magnificent, goosebump-raising Sea Within A Sea lift us into neo-shoegaze stratosphere.

“I’m sorry down here in the front if you can see my pubes”, giggles Lily Allen, but her enormous crowd doesn’t need an apology. Strutting about in a skimpy, butt-revealing bodysuit, the potty-mouthed pop star delivers a high-calibre performance, with Littlest Things, Smile and the notorious Fuck You drawing the biggest cheers.

From the moment psychedelic Texans The Mars Volta walk onto the Blue Stage, it’s all about signature fractured beats, spasmodic riffing and Cedric Bixler-Zavala and Omar Rodríguez-López’s monumental afros. With an intensity carried over from At The Drive-In days, the neo-progsters make us feel like we’re watching Led Zeppelin jam with The Grateful Dead.

Quintessential arena-rockers, headliners Muse bring out the lasers and Matt Bellamy’s zapping guitar heroics at full force. The Resistance material is okay at best, however, the proverbial old stuff kills: Stockholm Syndrome and Hysteria bludgeon, Supermassive Black Hole is the best song Prince never wrote and Knights Of Cydonia is a suitably epic finish.

All of which makes it a comprehensive BDO 2010 as the exhaustion sets in. This year’s line-up might not have matched previous events, and it’s hard to deny that the festival itself, no matter how iconic, is still a rite-of-passage for alcohol-sozzled schoolies. Thankfully a generous handful of high quality performances make up for the both the programming weaknesses and the obnoxious trashiness of overly hedonistic punters.]]> http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2009/12/07/37zwu6_mono%2C_laura%2C_del_toro_%40_the_hi-fi Mon, 7 Dec 2009 17:33:20 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2009/12/07/37zwu6_mono%2C_laura%2C_del_toro_%40_the_hi-fi Sun 6 Dec – Mono, Laura, Del Toro

Concluding my adventures in Hi-Fi (to paraphrase an R.E.M. album title) for the week – Sia on Thursday, Jarvis Cocker on Saturday – is a Sunday night event with a bill that looks like post-rock lover’s wet dream: Japanese celestial noise giants Mono, sublime Melbournians laura and Brisbane’s own math soundscapists Del Toro. In contrast with the packed earlier shows, there’s room to move and the alcohol-fuelled rowdiness, frequent at “name” gigs, is absent: everyone’s here to listen to MUSIC.

Soon after the venue opens its doors, the first band comes on. A trio back when I first saw them over a year ago, Del Toro impress a lot more as a four-piece this time. The addition of a keyboard player considerably fills out the previously sparser sonic palette and the pounding primal drums, busy 5-string bass and echo-saturated guitar sound juicier than ever. There also appears to be a more prominent No Wave/funk slant to the locals’ sound, made even more distinctive by the sporadic jagged passages, set-to-stun delay and swirling flange outros. The last two numbers played – a thick, sludgy dirge and a clattering racket ending with the guitar approximating air the siren – reaffirm the band as purveyors of refreshing, earthy (compared to what we hear later in the night) math-rock.

Following the none-more-suitable intermission music – tracks from Pivot’s lauded O Soundtrack My Heart – Melbourne post-rock powerhouse laura set their magic upon the now-doubled crowd. The Hi-Fi’s world-class soundsystem ensures it’s the sextet’s best Brisbane show to date, even though their arguably finest moment, the arresting Radio Swan Is Down Pt.2, doesn’t get aired. It’s only a mild setback, though, as Pt.1’s weeping cello line and subsequent emotional mayhem are welcome treats and make up for the absent sequel’s spectral beauty. On top of that, all the familiar laura hallmarks – processed feedback swathes, crashing drums, alternately crystal-clear and heavily distorted guitars – are there along with the members’ sheer performing abandon. Bassist Andrew Yardley is a joy to watch as he relentlessly pummels his vintage instrument, head firmly downwards, while his six-string-wielding brother Ben periodically emits shards of noise that actually fit the mix like a glove and hyperactive second axeman Andrew Chalmers’ soaring vocals – always the band’s secret weapon – send live staples Patterns Not People and I Hope skywards. Is There No Hope For The Widow’s Son is an Aussie post-rock epic if there ever was one and Yes Maybe No’s tour-de-force Cardboard Cutout makes for an intense, resounding finish. laura are still mapping our dreams.

I’ve seen the mighty Texans Explosions In The Sky obliterate the senses of all and sundry at The Zoo early last year and seminal Glasgewians Mogwai cause convulsions at The Tivoli in March, but Tokyo’s imperial Mono leave this experienced giggoer with an impression that no words can adequately describe: “sublime” is too soft and “monumental” is too narrow. Even “impossibly beautiful” doesn’t quite seem to summarise the ninety minutes of aural grandeur created for us by guitarists Taka Goto and Yoda, bassist Tamaki Kunishi and drummer Yasunori Takada. This is not just the sound of the East meeting the West – it’s also the sound of planets exploding, new galaxies forming, the sun going supernova and peace and serenity lost and found, created by four people with instruments made of wood, skin and metal. As with Sigur Rós, people often cry at Mono’s gigs and are not ashamed of it; theirs is the sound of pure, unadulterated love.

But let’s get back to the show. Emerging from backstage and taking their seats (apart from Kunishi, who mainly stays upright), the four musicians start the Hymn To The Immortal Wind with Ashes In The Snow’s tinkling glockenspiel intro. Recorded with a full orchestra, Mono’s fifth album has already been hailed as their best work and would have been impossible to replicate in a live setting by anyone else but Goto and co, who don’t need strings tonight. The Hi-Fi is befallen by reverential silence as the record’s opening track builds to a climax and merges into the solemn Burial At Sea, the heart-wrenching melody grabbing hold of our collective senses. A classical composer in the body of an instrumental rock band leader and a guitarist of exceptional emotional power, Goto’s whirring octave passages and staccato single-string lines seamlessly meld with Yoda’s complex arpeggios and motor-steady rhythm work while Takada’s levitating drumming summons the images of at least ten men hitting enormous timpani and gongs.

Taking a brief break from her bass, Kunishi sits at the piano for the spine-tingling Follow The Map – the best music piece to have never soundtracked a Wong Kar-Wai’s movie – which erupts like a Bach canon from the speakers. We’re still paralysed as the undulating calm of Pure As Snow (Trails Of The Winter Storm) gradually turns into a sonic hurricane of Katrina-like proportions, Goto and Yoda fiercely swinging on their chairs, hair flailing as they concoct a dense six-string halo. A nod to the band’s past follows in the shape of the longing Yearning, serene Halcyon (Beautiful Days) and the ethereal Kidnapper Bell, taken respectively from 2006’s You Are There, 2004’s Walking Cloud And Deep Red Sky… and 2001 debut Under The Pipal Tree. The surging Battle To Heaven sees the bandmembers get up from their stools before the last of tonight’s revelatory experiences, the saintly Everlasting Light retells the triumph of eternity over death and tragedy, its grandiose concluding swells symbolic of the neverending hope. No encore follows as it’s not needed – Taka Goto’s ensemble have powerfully moved and inspired us.

The sky remains the same as ever and the wind is immortal. Shine on, Mono.

LifeMusicMedia]]> http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2009/12/07/37yv35_jarvis_cocker%2C_m._craft_%40_the_hi-fi Mon, 7 Dec 2009 10:13:02 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2009/12/07/37yv35_jarvis_cocker%2C_m._craft_%40_the_hi-fi Sat 5 Dec – Jarvis Cocker

Having hosted the incomparable Sia two nights ago, The Hi-Fi’s unfriendly contours rapidly get filled by Britpop diehards and both young and ageing hipsters of all denominations. As the bar becomes a siege zone, the incongruous support act – M. Craft, a bearded “sensitive singer-songwriter” in the vein of Fergus Brown – and accompanying keyboardist (a shy-looking, bob-sporting indie chick) quietly walk onstage and launch into the first of wistful minor-key ditties.

Augmented by minimal beats and occasional sax and full of what wannabe critics often term “cute harmonies”, the unassuming Sydneysider’s lyrical, melodic fare would have suited a cosier venue like The Troubadour. Tonight it – unfortunately – merely equates to music to socialise to and only draws modest applause. He’s done in a half-hour, thanks us for listening with traceable sarcasm and retreats as the curtains are drawn. Hopefully the troubadour doesn’t judge us Brisbanites too harshly and comes back up for a solo show where he can triumph without punters excitedly blabbering about the headlining act over his music.

The lukewarm response to the warm-up artist aside, everyone in the audience is here with obvious intent: to see ex-Pulp leader, style icon and patron saint of ageing hipsters everywhere Jarvis Cocker sing his oh-so-clever-and-ironic lyrics, do the “hands”, strut about and shake his legendary, trousered skinny derriere, all of which the speccy lothario eventually does and then some. As an intro, the backing band (with fellow Pulp veteran and longtime collaborator Steve Mackey on bass) sustain one fuzz-drenched note for nearly a minute before the designer-scruffy, immaculately-tight-pants & blazer-clad showman emerges to cataclysmic cheers, kicks the air and leads the opening charge with latest single Angela.

Suffice to say, the song is an excellent exercise in retro-hip groove – insistent garage-rock riff, catchy vocal hook in the chorus and a snappy, vintage stomping beat – and serves as a great start to the show as well as an undeniable set highlight. His skinny frame never staying in one spot, the mic-swinging dandy quips “Your sugar level’s low, here you go” before tossing a lolly into the crowd during a brief banter break. From Jarvis ’ latest album Further Complications, the rambunctious title track, sampled howl-drenched Fuckingsong, cynical love ballad Leftovers and the calculatedly gloopy Slush follow. Later on, the lilting Big Julie is the first track from his self-titled solo debut to get aired and Tonight receives a shimmering, 12-string electric-laced treatment, while newie I Never Said I Was Deep charms with its self-ironic lyrics… but do they, along with the author’s delivery, express a genuine sentiment?

The first doubt starting to sink in this Pulp-reared writer’s head, Homewrecker! sees the JC Of Cool emit a series of larynx-shredding shrieks that essentially pertain to eardrums being confronted with non-musical noise. From then on, the concert turns into an ageing hipster worship session, Jarvis feeding the crowd what the crowd wants, doing the robot, readjusting his famed floppy hair, raising a bourbon to “the end of the Prohibition” and failing to summon any mojo with Black Magic.

The encore partially makes up for the distinctive taste of disillusionment in my mouth with an older glory in the shape of Don’t Let Him Waste Your Time, the indie girl sex symbol not resisting a chance to bend over during the “where the sun don’t shine” line. He then delivers another monologue, this time about the virtues of disco music and being “born at a disco”, but whoever hoped to go apeshit to Disco 2000 quickly settle down as the languid-yet-boring Discosong incites the previously dormant wish to leave before the grand finale within me and I exit the venue before the song is over. No extended feedback interval or the still-prescient (The Cunts Are Still) Running The World for this reviewer – while JC remains a fantastic entertainer and a witty raconteur, his old band were still in a different class when they were around. Tonight, we’re merely helping the aged.

Fasterlouder]]> http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2009/12/04/37m5ze_sia%2C_washington%2C_scott_matthew_%40_the_hi-fi Fri, 4 Dec 2009 01:31:00 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2009/12/04/37m5ze_sia%2C_washington%2C_scott_matthew_%40_the_hi-fi Thu 3 Dec – Sia

Completely sold out earlier, tonight’s event is marked by an ever-expanding line around the block. Thus, only those who have gotten in early are lucky to witness the first-ever Australian appearance of New York-based Scott Matthew. Perched on a stool and strumming his ukulele, the tenor-voiced artist is simply unforgettable, soaring away on Little Bird and the closing cover of Nancy Sinatra’s Tonight You Belong To Me before shuffling off.

Next on are Washington, “fucking stoked” to be here according to frontwoman Megan. Jaunty indie-pop ditties like Chelsea and Cement, a couple of torchy piano ballads and Triple J favourite Clementine get aired during the enthusiasm-filled set. Keep rockin’ those specs!

The wait for the ARIA-winning Sia is over when the golden voice herself and her band emerge in kooky fluoro attire and launch into Buttons to wild cheers. The costumes come off, the first pair of undies gets thrown onstage and Little Black Sandals walk us away. With room for three funky newies, the show is top-notch, wise-cracking Ms Furler raising chills with I Go To Sleep, You Have Been Loved and Soon We’ll Be Found and bouncing it up on Sunday and Girl You Lost. From her Zero 7 days, Distractions and Destiny paralyse the crowd, as does the heart-stopping Breathe Me finale. Delectable – like death by chocolate.

Rave magazine]]> http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2009/11/30/378xkx_mullum_music_festival_2009 Mon, 30 Nov 2009 04:15:48 +0000 http://www.last.fm/user/MaxFactor81/journal/2009/11/30/378xkx_mullum_music_festival_2009 Sat 28 Nov – Mullum Music Festival

Friday Nov 27

“Welcome to Mullumbimby – the biggest little town in Australia. Expect respect.” Thus read the entrance signs as we make our way to the annual celebration of musical diversity hosted by northern NSW’s tucked-away gem.
The first act we see is one-man band Juzzie Smith, who works his guitar, harmonica and didgeridoo magic upon the whooping Bowlo patrons. At the nearby Drill Hall, New York-born folkie Susanna Carmen offers more laidback listening with her Joni Mitchell and Gillian Welch-influenced storysongs. We can’t stick around for ages, though, and catch some of The Little Stevies’ happy-clappy live show at the Ex-Services Club before driving down to Byron Bay for The Church.

Saturday Nov 28

… begins in a very ‘80s fashion as Byron’s new wave revivalists Polaroid Fame take us 25 years back, covering David Bowie’s Let’s Dance along the way. Vulgargrad’s Russian folk-ska is an even more danceable proposition, while Fyah Walk’s blazing roots reggae threatens to set off the fire alarm at the Mullum High gym and calls for a quick swim. We’re back in time for today’s biggest draw Tex ‘The Sex’ Perkins, a throng of ladies dancing to The Cruel Sea man’s solo tunes. Closing the night, WA soul diva Mama Kin has the Civic Hall in the palm of her hand with emotion-drenched ballads and prime New Orleans piano-‘fonk’. Respect!


Sunday Nov 29

Beach-storm-back to town. At The Courthouse, Georgia Potter and her crack band cover the scope from ‘70s soul belters to More For Yourself’s attitude-laden folk and Take It Down’s righteous reggae. Worldbeat maestros Afro Dizzi Act and Jali Buba Kuyateh soon kickstart the dancing party at the Mullum High before the impossible-to-classify Djan Djan – Jeff Lang, tabla master Bobby Singh and kora genius Mamadou Diabate – meld their otherworldly skills in a hypnotising display. Closing the Mullum Fest, walking Latin music encyclopedia Nano Stern holds court at the Civic Hall while Sunshine Coast’s electro-tribalists Oka turn the Ex-Services Club into a multi-limbed bush doof. Sweaty and danced-out, we head back to Brisbalon; Mullum, we love you.

Rave magazine]]>