Tinnitus.

Before you go Googling this affliction, I can tell you it is not a foot fungus commonly found in backpacker showers or footy club change rooms. It is actually a condition in which the ears experience a constant ringing even though there is no such physical sound present. It is commonly caused by an exposure to excessive noise and is thus logically associated with live music.

If Dinosaur Jr front-man J Mascis doesn’t have it then I’ll eat my hat.

Mascis, along with Murph and Lou Barlow (of equal Sebadoh fame) make up one of the loudest bands going around – a title they have held for the best part of 20 years. The original line-up had, up until a few years ago, avoided playing with each other due to what seemed like irreconcilable differences. However, for reasons beyond my sphere of interest, they decided to reform and release a new album, Beyond, in 2007 and followed up with Farm in 2009. Not only did these new releases show there is still life left in the old dog, they also included some of the finest work of the band’s career.

Mascis strolled out onto the Corner stage the complete opposite of any modern-day guitar hero. He couldn’t be more than 5’7″ with a sizable beer gut, jeans and a seemingly moth-eaten t-shirt with runners and long silvery grey hair down to the middle of his back.

You wouldn’t pick it from the description above (for those of us who need visual description, think Station from Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure), but this is a man who has not only defined, but been the benchmark of modern day guitarists. Dinosaur Jr have been a stalwart in the american music scene since Jesus was a boy and with the recent release of their 9th studio album, the band showed they still have something to say and will not be relegated to the status of ageing rockers.

The band lead with ‘Thumb’, from the Green Mind album. Mascis’ raw and shredding style quickly made apparent to any long-time-listener, first-time-watcher that this gig would sonically assault their ears like nothing else they have ever experienced.

The much-underrated Lou Barlow steered the ship on a newer track from Farm, ‘Imagination Blind’, and through the driving bass-line and impassioned voice shone a man who is a genuine talent in his own right. While Mascis’ is undeniably deemed the brains and voice of Dinosaur Jr, the band was always better with Barlow in it. Mascis and co. then launched ‘Get Me’, providing glimpses of one of the truly amazing guitar solo’s of the past 20 years. I say glimpses as you will be massively disappointed if you attend a Dinosaur Jr gig and expect to hear note-perfect solos as they appear on the albums. Mascis’ on-the-fly arrangements are legendary and it is safe to say that no two guitar solos are the same.  This might have disappointmented some, but it was a highlight for me; you genuinely never knew what you would hear next.

‘Out There’, the lead track from the Where You Been album, is vintage Mascis, with the distressed vocals and squealing guitar on show for all to hear. In all honesty, his voice has deteriorated on some of the older tracks to the point where the high-notes aren’t even attempted – a minor disappointment that was quickly forgotten when the band delivered ‘Pieces’, from Farm.

‘Feel The Pain’, from the Without a Sound album, and ‘The Wagon’, from Green Mind, were as close to the originals as you can get from Dinosaur Jr and displayed the craftsmanship that goes into the band’s sound.  Murph deserves a special mention for his drumming during ‘Feel The Pain’ – I swear half the crowd were air-drumming the chorus.  ’The Wagon’, my personal highlight of the evening, combined the vocal talents of both Masics (lead) and Barlow (harmonies) and provided a short, punchy solo that was as clean as they come. The audience’s vocal participation during ‘Freak Scene’ made even the sometimes sombre Mascis smile, despite the mention of significant jet-lag experienced by all band members. Returning for an encore, the band slipped in a cover of The Cure’s ‘Just Like Heaven’ which interestingly enough appeared to go unrecognized by most of the audience.

Partially deaf, I staggered out of the Corner Hotel and into the car constantly checking my rear view mirror for any sign of an ambulance/fire truck/police car so I could get out of its way, as I sure as hell wouldn’t have heard it.

I find myself trying to work out how to dial out from a phone – that has enough buttons and special features to launch a nuclear missile – whilst conducting something resembling an interview.

It’s 5pm. Looking outside of my glass prison I see my co-workers looking tired and stressed, and.it’s only Monday. Enthusiasm is sadly lacking.

It’s with great pleasure that I inject a sense of hope and optimism into this article in the form of Richie from Tumbleweed. You see, over the past four months Richie has been involved in getting one of the seminal Australian rock’n'roll bands of the early-mid nineties back into the consciousness and forefront of the punters mind.

This project of reasonably epic proportions culminated in the original lineup of Tumbleweed’s first gig in about 15 years, occurring last Saturday night in Woolloongong.

So how was it?

“Absolutely awesome – it was incredible. It was sold out before the doors were open – which was a good thing”

Tumbleweed

“It was a huge group of people from the past 20 years of our lives there, so it was a really special time and it sounded great. We played well and everybody enjoyed it – it’ll be something I’ll remember for a long time.”

Delving into Tumbleweed’s past, it’s a minor miracle that the gig on Saturday night ever came to fruition.

“I didn’t think it would happen, I don’t think anybody in the band had given it any thought that we might get back together again.” However, this year marks the 15th Anniversary of the Homebake festival and with Tumbleweed’s long history with the event, it seemed like now was as good an opportunity as any to rekindle the magic.

“We hadn’t talked for a long time and I suppose when Homebake was offered to us earlier in they year they asked if we could do it because we had so much to do with the initial Homebake,” adding, “They thought it would be a good thing to do to come full circle and all that”

Some local press may have also been a contributing factor in the band reforming. “A story in our local newspaper eluded to the fact that we would never get back together again, because of me, and I saw our guitarist by chance out at dinner one night about four months ago and mentioned it wasn’t exactly true what the newspaper article had said.”

“We ended up back at his place, had a few wines and kept talking and he said: ‘if that’s not true, we need to talk about this,’ and you know we had a band meeting and within two weeks we were in the jam room. I think from the moment we played the first song together it felt right, it felt fantastic and we thought it was something that we felt we could do so we decided to embark on this thing.”

Asking my best Richard Wilkens-like questions, I ask them about their new album.

“It is one gig at a time at the moment, like the old footy cliché.”

“You just don’t want to ruin the magic and if you start looking too far ahead you lose what’s happening in the moment and what’s happening in the moment is pure enjoyment – we are absolutely loving playing the songs again and loving sort of getting to know each other again after 15 years”.

He adds, “When we broke up it wasn’t pretty and there has been a lot of water under the bridge. We’ve actually started becoming friends again and its absolutely awesome, not only for the collective of Tumbleweed but individually for all of us its just an amazing period in our lives – so we don’t want to ruin that. Never say never and maybe the opportunity will come to record something or think about continuing it on but at the moment we are giving people a taste of what we thought was an incredibly special moment and that was the original Tumbleweed lineup. We are trying to represent that as true as possible and you know if Saturday is anything to go by it’s just absolutely amazing – I just cant explain how incredible Saturday was.”

“I think the danger is getting trapped or caught up in the game, we are not sort of into doing that, we just want to live outside of Tumbleweed, outside of music” muses Richie when questioned about what they will do differently this time around.

“It’s something we don’t have to do, it’s something we wanted to do. I don’t think in our music lives, post-Tumbleweed, we have experienced anything quite like it. It’s not about the popularity, its about the sound and the effortlessness of having those 5 individuals in the room. There is a magical quality that comes out of it and it something that took a 15 years break to get back, to realise that’s what was so special and that we loved the songs and to let go of the negative aspects of what it became when we were young and not wise enough to appreciate what we had. Now it’s just an absolute revelation to play our songs again. It’s the most magical thing in the world.”

With upcoming Melbourne shows at the Hi-Fi Bar (10/12), Meredith Festival (11/12) and The Espy (NYE) it dawned on me that there will be a sizable chunk of kids who have never experienced a Tumbleweed gig and know them only from their back catalogue of albums.

“I was surprised by the amount of young people who rocked up to the Wollongong show the other day” he notes. “I don’t know whether it’s because we have a name in Wollongong or older brothers have passed on our albums. The sound hasn’t changed, we’ve still got the original amps we used back in the day, original pedals, original guitars – everything is original.”

“There’s been no modification to the sound and I think young people will be surprised with the sound. I know that even after hearing it back myself I was surprised by the sound. I forgot it, I’ve still got our records but they are not a true indication of what our live sound was. It’s honest, it’s true, we deliver it with the same passion we always did. It’s timeless and I think the kids will accept it no differently to anybody else.”

So about the level of commitment required to undertake a tour after such a significant break?

“We have been practicing every week, every Sunday” (We are) doing pretty good, still on schedule, we were pretty conscious of getting up there an not being able to cut it so we have been putting in the hard work, and its pretty much on schedule. So by the time we get down to Melbourne we should be in form. If the other night was anything to go by it’s gonna be great”

I leave my translucent cage with an unnatural sense of enthusiasm for a Monday and the promise of some amazing shows to come.

In this age of bland, corporate, middle-of-the-road rock’n'roll, occasionally circumstance impregnates necessity, giving birth to something the masses crave without ever realising it.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you Tumbleweed. Enjoy.

Paul Dempsey performs at The Corner

Paul Dempsey
The Corner
September 12, 2009

O-Week.

Yep, that first week of Uni designed to introduce people coming from a diversity of social and cultural backgrounds and blending them into one identity: a ‘uni student’. This agent of change requires a few key ingredients. First and foremost it requires booze. Now being uni it will only be beer as that is all the common species of poor uni student can afford on their ‘part-time-job’ income.

To add insult to injury it will normally be the cheapest, nastiest beer available (I kid you not – during one O-Week attended I heard an organizer say to someone on a mobile: ‘who cares what type – get XXXX if they have it!’). So you have the masses inebriated, throw in a cheap BBQ and you will have their stomachs (their hearts and minds will follow). You do however need to keep them entertained – this is where music rears its head.

Pick the right bands, and O-Week will be a success; pick the wrong bands – well, let’s just say your aspiring career path as the next Michael Chugg would appear doubtful.

Many moons ago when this humble writer attended uni as a mock-attempt to determine a career, the would be ‘event managers’ at the university in question put together a lineup that would, in retrospect, be the envy of all promoters today. The benefit of hindsight would suggest that it may have been pure dumb luck but I’m prepared to give somebody the benefit of the doubt.

Front End Loader kicked off the glorious summers’ day with their off-beat ska/rock, followed closely by the very raw Living End in the second support slot. One thing I tend to observe when meeting anyone of note is their height – most people are shorter than you imagine. I had heard Something For Kate’s (S4K) ‘Captain (Million Miles and Hour)’ as it had just started to get airplay on Triple J and had pegged Paul Dempsey as a burley man of short stature – based solely on his voice. So when this giant of a man walked on stage I immediately took an interest as to how “that sound” would come out of “that frame”.

Fast forward umpteen years and Something For Kate’s story of near success is tale told by many. Charting solidly for the best part of a decade but never quite getting the recognition they so deserved, they have served the masses and their adoring fans well. While S4K gigs are few and far between these days, they sellout at a staggering speed and never leave the fans wanting. Recently, Dempsey has has ventured solo and has been touring nationally.

The Corner Hotel crowd erupted as Dempsey walked on stage, his simple demeanor and plain white t-shirt suggest the man enjoys the art of performance as opposed to the limelight that it brings. Relying heavily on his 2009 release, ‘Everything Is True’, Dempsey churned through tracks including ‘Bats’, ‘Out The Airlock’ and ‘The Great Optimist’.

Dempsey’s rendition of his recent single ‘Ramona Was A Waitress’ displayed his ability to improve the songs live and his unquestionable song-writing talent. The set was sprinkled with the odd cover from acclaimed songwriters Bruce Springsteen and Gillian Welch and was punctuated by a mid-show solo acoustic set which included the S4K favorite ‘Stunt Show’.

Supported by the Dallas Crane rhythm section (Shan Vanderwert and Pat Bourke), the songs were delivered with the sense of purpose that no doubt was intended when written.

For those interested, the headlining act of O-Week all those years ago was Magic Dirt. With the recent and tragic passing of Dean Turner I look on that show as a privilege to see one of Australia’s truly great rock’n'roll bands perform with the blistering rawness that made them the iconic band they are today.

All Tomorrow's Parties

All Tomorrow’s Parties
Melbourne International Film Festival
Sat 25 July, Thu 6 August

As a music ‘tragic’, I can say with clear conscience and no regret that I make mix CDs (previously tapes too, before the medium became extinct).  ’So what?’ you ask, ‘anyone can bang 20 tracks on a CD!’

Not true – the track order, track selection, length of songs, and outros rolling to intros are all major factors in the success of a ‘mix’. This is something that the iPod generation and the ‘Shuffle’ option is slowly killing. But, when you get it right – at risk of sounding like an arrogant tosser – it’s pretty damn good. However, for someone who sees live music on a pretty regular basis, there is nothing better than seeing a band perform ‘that song’ live. So what if you could combine the two – in essence, a ‘live mix tape’ of all your favorite bands playing their songs live?

The All Tomorrows Parties Festival is just that. Curated by a selected artist (or of late, artists), it gives the them the chance to select their favorite bands or artist for ultimate music festival. Directed by Jonathan Caouette, All Tomorrows Parties (ATP) takes us on a behind the scenes journey of the festival and its patrons. Shot on Super 8, camcorder and mobile phones, this lo-fi doco traces the origins and captures the spirit of the festival.

The skill of the direction is that this is done without the aid of narration – well, narration of the standard form. Caouette uses the artists, fans and media alike to tell the story of a festival created by Chris Geddes (Belle and Sebastian) called the Bowlie Weekender in 1999, held at the off-season holiday camp in Camber Sands in Sussex. The gig consisted of Belle and Sebastian headlining a festival in which they selected all the acts. Festival producer Barry Hogan was so enamored by the idea that he asked whether he could keep the format and continue the medium. With blessing received we now have ATP as we know it today.

Caouette uses the split-screen effect with creative precision, showing an artist performing live on one side and the festival goers hijinks at the holiday camps on the other. The film captures some amazing acts and some pretty special performances and commentary. Look out for the Warren Ellis/Nick Cave interview and some sublime performances from Battles, Grinderman, Sonic Youth, Daniel Johnston, Mogwai, The Dirty Three, Yeah Yeah Yeah’s, Mogwai, Seasick Steve, Mars Volta, The Stooges and Two Gallants. Special note must go to Lightening Bolt for his amazing drumming sequences, involving him drumming in the crowd (hunt this down on you tube). The use of archival footage of the holiday camps when they were popular in the 50s an 60s is a nice touch as is the footage of the punters at the festival enjoying impromptu performances and copious amounts of booze.

Unfortunately I caught the last screening of the Festival and the docos dont always get picked up for general release. However, I implore you that if you can track down the DVD or find a screening that you see this film. Without any exaggeration this is one of the better music documentaries, capturing the spirit of the live festival and is definitely worth the search.

I NEED THAT RECORD!

I NEED THAT RECORD! THE DEATH (OR POSSIBLE SURVIVAL) OF THE INDEPENDENT RECORD STORE
Melbourne International Film Festival
Thu 30 July, Wed 5 August

I need to preface this review by revealing a terrible and dark secret that has plagued my conscience for years now – I went for a job at Sanity Music. Let me set the scene a little to justify this harrowing revelation. I had returned from a jaunt in South America and had very little interest in acquiring anything as demanding and responsible as a career. I had grand plans of bumming around, listening to tunes, catching up with mates and achieving as little as possible. I was young and naive and thought that a fair knowledge of music would be all that is required. I’d recommend to anyone who was keen for a job at a franchise record store not to snigger and laugh during the interview when the Interviewer states the importance of ‘placing both hands on the bag and making good eye contact with the customer to cement the sale’. From that point on it became apparent that my services would not be required.

Everything changed when I moved out of home and to the inner city. From here I was exposed to the world of the Independent Record Store. With it’s community and local influence, here is somewhere that I could relate, not only to the music, but to the employees and patrons alike.

This sense of community is captured in ‘Technicolor’ by Brendan Tollers documentary I Need That Record.

It would be so easy to have a run of the mill talking-heads doco with a few muso’s waxing lyrical about the good old days, but that would diminish not only the importance of such a documentary, but why this story needs to be told in the first place.

Toller achieves the balance between research and facts versus anecdotes and story with a sense of ease. This Lo-Fi viewing begins with Toller interviewing a few record store owners that he has befriended over the years who have been forced to close their stores for a host of reasons including expiring leases, poor sales and general economic decay. The film’s strength is weaving the footage of these stores closing (a staggering 3,000 in the last 10 years) with the interviews of such industry luminaries as Legs McNeil, Ian Mackaye (Fugazi), Thurston Moore (Sonic Youth), Pat Carney (The Black Keys), Glenn Branca and Lenny Kaye, just to name a few. Mike Watt (Minuteman) is a standout in his own rambling and random way as is Noam Chomsky’s contribution, providing the basic laws of supply and demand on the music industry.

Toller’s research is meticulous and covers off a range of topics including the major record labels (their inability to function in the modern economic models), the cost of production, the launch and death of MTV and the internet as a distribution tool. The archival footage (take particular note of George W Bush’s iPod discussion and the Chuck D vs Lars Ullrich file-sharing debate) mixed with Matt Newman’s incredible animation really add depth and range to the film while keeping that independent and raw feel throughout the screening.

So dont be expecting the employee hijinks and Hollywood endings of High Fidelity, but, if you spend a tonne of time immersed in the Greville St or Polyester communities then this is one documentary worth seeing.

More info: http://www.ineedthatrecord.com

Deathbowl to Downtown

Deathbowl to Downtown
Melbourne International Film Festival
Screening Friday August 7th

Pop-Culture documentaries are always a risky proposition at a film festival. The last thing you want is 80-minutes of ‘talking-heads’, droning on about how good they were or what it was like at that time – or, even worse, an exercise in name-dropping.

So when I heard about Deathbowl to Downtown I was initially skeptical. The essence of any good doco is to keep the story moving; make it succinct, and; importantly, dont bite of more than you can chew.  The ‘blurb’ on Downtown was the evolution of New York skateboarding – not exactly succeeding in the biting off more than you can chew aspect. For the record your honor, I dont skate – in fact the closest thing I’ve gotten to riding a board was watching Gleaming The Cube (a Christian Slater classic – although it hasn’t aged that well – but I digress).

I have always had an interest in the history of various pop-cultures and tend to be drawn to them without much resistance. My interest in Downtown, however, lies in New York herself. The grand old lady of the east coast is a massive contradiction to the sun, surf and beaches of skateboarding’s west coast origin. Essentially, I wanted to see how this tale would be told.

Co-Directors Coan Nicholls and Rick Charnoski have managed to locate an array of interesting local skating identities and enough footage (some from private skate videos and handy-cams) to keep a casual observer interested for the 86 minute journey. The real strength of Downtown is its peripheral links to the surrounding culture, politics, fashions, fads – and even technology – that have all contributed to the sport’s success.

The DIY ethos of the filmmakers resonates throughout the story, much as it did to those who were around in the sports fledgling days. The interview grabs are short and sweet. The majority of the footage is breathtaking (see Mark Gonzales skating through NYC traffic) and the soundtrack adds a sense of realism to the visuals. While perhaps not to the same degree as the iconic Style Wars, Downtown still provides an accurate portrayal of the socio-economic times of New York from the 70s to present day. The only real drawback is Chloe Sevigny’s narration. Her monotone ramblings and obviously teleprompter-read lines detract from the initial story and her involvement fades out in the second half.

This aside, I would recommend Downtown to any pop-culture junkie seeking a fix.

More info:

http://www.deathbowltodowntown.com/

I’ve never been to the Rock’n'Roll Hall of Fame. Judging by caliber of some of the inductees I don’t think I’m missing out on anything either. Besides, unless you a huuuge fan of Charlie Sheen in Major League and follow the Tribe during the baseball season, I don’t even see the attraction to Cleveland. Now don’t get me wrong, there are some worthy names in the Hall, but from ballot to induction the whole process is so clichéd that it’s almost like the Fox FM of the rock world – tightly scripted and play-listed.

I have however had the benefit of visiting the States a couple of times and seeing some of the landmark icons in music. Graceland, Stax Records, Gibson Guitar Factory, Sun Studios – I’ve even had dinner in the studio that The Doors recorded LA Woman in (it’s now an Italian restaurant – I recommend the veal). I also had the pleasure of being to the Experience Music Project in Seattle. This is a little different from your standard museum as it’s more of a hands on display. A Science Works for music, if you will. One of the great aspects of the Project is the diversity of the displays with a heavy influence on the artwork of posters, record sleeves, CDs – even cassettes.

Now, you’re probably reading this and asking yourself: What the hell does this have to do with Dan Auerbach? – hang on there, kids, I’m getting there.

One of the exhibitions at the Project when I was there, circa 2002, was a history of the Seattle music scene through poster artwork. The other day I was flipping through a few photos I took while I was there and noticed the quality of the bands on the bill. Yes, Nirvana, Pearl Jam (inc Mookie Blaylock and Green River) and Alice in Chains were there. Cult favorites The Melvins and Mother Love Bone also got a mention. But it was the triple bill poster of Soundgarden, Mudhoney and The Screaming Trees that really caught my eye. All at one gig, all headlining. Let me digress (again) and pose this hypothetical – imagine being in the same room and hearing the likes of Chris Cornell, Mark Arm and Mark Lanegan bellow out their soon-to-be classics.

All this nostalgia got me thinking. In this day of the massive festival, the triple bill gig has all but disappeared. Promoters probably feel if they’re going to get three overseas quality acts, they might as well add another eight local acts, jack up the price and call it a festival. But Thursday night at the Corner I witnessed a revival – a legitimate triple billing featuring Hacienda, Tony Joe White and Dan Auerbach.

Hacienda are a tough band to pigeonhole – if the Beatles went a little bluegrass and you threw in a Hispanic undertone then you might have something close. Playing tracks from the recently-released Loud is the Night album, including ‘She’s Got a Hold On Me’, ‘Hear Me Crying’ and ‘Shake Ya’, the packed room was lapping it up as quickly and eagerly as it was being created. All this before 9pm.

Tony Joe White shuffled on stage and assumed his seated position, greeting the audience in a booming baritone, and proceeding to engulf the room with his unique guitar and vocal techniques. Now I’ve got to be honest, I’m not familiar with much of White’s extensive catalogue. I did, however, recognise his classic ‘Polk Salad Annie’ – as did everyone else at the Corner that night – when White shared his gravelly, bourbon-soaked rendition with us. Truly an amazing voice.

It’s no surprise that, after producing Hacienda’s album, Dan Auerbach uses Texan four-piece as his backing band to perform his recent solo effort, Keep it Hid. It’s also obvious to note the influence that Auerbach has on the group, not just musically, but also in the facial hair department. Both Auerbach and Dante Schwebel are sporting beards that would make Billy Gibbons proud. In fact, from the rear of the room and with similar builds, it’s actually tricky to tell the two apart – even more so as they keep changing places throughout the show.

Auerbach’s solo offerings sound a little gentler and more sympathetic than the grittier Black Keys back catalogue – this is not a criticism, merely an observation. So when it comes to tracks such as ‘Trouble Weighs a Ton’, a raw Appalachian-esque ballad, and ‘When The Night Comes’, a Van Morrison inspired tune, the true depth of Auerbach’s song writing talent is displayed.

‘Whispered Words’ (a song written by Auerbach’s father) and ‘Mean Monsoon’ increased the tenacity of the sound and raised the crowd from its respectful drowse. Auerbach then delved into the coarser parts of the release, including ‘Street Walkin’ and ‘The Prowl’. As the album was written, produced and nearly all instrumentation played by Auerbach, I was very interested to see how it would translate live – unsurprisingly, it was a seamless transition.

So while there are slim odds that Auerbach, White and Hacienda will be packing there bags and heading to Cleveland over the course of their careers are slim – short of any pre-arranged gigs in the city – I feel comforted in the knowledge that it wont take a cheesy ceremony and hideous trophy for these three to be inducted in to the Hall of Musical Respect.

Evan Dando

A conversation with a mate on the outskirts of musical taste went a little something like this, ahead of Evan Dando’s performance in Melbourne:

Mate: “What you doing tonight – keen for a beer?”

Me: “Got tickets to see Evan Dando at the Corner”

Mate: “He’s the guy from The Lemonheads, yeah?”

Me: “Yep”

Lengthy pause.

Mate: “I thought that bloke was dead – who knew?”

In the interests of keeping this review in the realms of a PG rating I may have paraphrased my mate’s last response – but you get the sentiment.

A warrior from the early 90s grunge heyday, Dando has survived with, for the most part, musical reputation intact. He’s been through a lot in his time – surviving everything the music industry had to throw at him, albeit minus a fair chunk of royalties. But none of this would appear on his obituary for the simple fact that no one then or since has been able to better capture the essence of the three-minute love song. This isn’t a throwaway line or a segue to my next paragraph – it’s a statement of fact.

At risk of sounding like the tagline of a cliched Jerry Bruckheimer film, Dando’s performance at the Corner was simply a man and his guitar. Stripped back to his purest, acoustic form, Dando shuffled onto the stage and began what would be an hour-long medley.

Shambolic is probably the best way to describe it. One song after the other, no intermission, no banter with the crowd – no interaction with the crowd whatsoever, for that matter (save for a grabbing a patron’s camera and taking a self portrait – some lucky soul’s new Facebook profile pic no doubt). His voice cracked and bum notes were strummed.

You’d be forgiven for thinking my interest in the gig was waning, and for a moment you’d be correct – if it wasn’t for those damn fine songs. It was a best of set including such gems as ‘Rudderless’, ‘It’s a shame about Ray’, ‘Hospital’ and ‘If I could talk I’d tell you’. Dando then launched into the hauntingly beautiful ‘Ride with me’, a genuine showstopper that had everyone in the room reliving their youth, summers spent with friends and the joys of a life less stressful, where the major concern was where the next beer was coming from and who you could scab a lift from to get down to the coast.

From here Dando ventured into ‘My drug buddy’, a well-crafted ditty that includes lyrics such as, “We have to laugh, to look at each other, we have to laugh coz where not alone” — lines that really capture the simplicity and ease with which Dando so simply depicts relationships. He then delved into a raw version of ‘Into my arms’, packing more sentiment into this striking 90-second verson than most writers could craft into a full LP.

So contrary to popular belief (well, my mates anyway), Evan Dando is not dead and those that still appreciate the splendour of the pop song can rejoice that one of the pioneers of the modern genre lives on.

They say “the suit don’t maketh the man” – well, at least I think they do – something along those lines anyway. And while we are on the topic, who are ‘they’? Ponder that one while you read on. Anyway, I digress. I’m trying to allude to the fact that a man of little (or no) substance will always be found out – irrespective of his threads.

The same goes for venues in Melbourne. Some venues make crap bands sound worse; some make great bands sound very ordinary; and some just work, irrespective of genre, style, equipment or ego. I put The Forum into that latter category. There is no better venue in Melbourne. Period. This is not up for discussion or debate – it is what it is. I’ve even seen perennial strugglers Jet at The Forum (free ticket, kids) and walked out thinking they were … um, well less crappy I guess.

So imagine this. Are you ready? What if you combine the best venue in Melbourne with one of the great live acts of our time. No, I’m not on payroll of either the band or the venue – the Forum is amazing and yes, Mogwai really are that good live.

Walking past the scalpers and security (a harmonious relationship this evening – good to see!), through the double doors, down the side aisle and on to the floor (via the bar), you want to know what the first thing that gets me every time about The Forum? It’s not the layout, it’s not the Michaelangeloesque mannequins with leaves strategically placed over their nether-regions, it’s not even the sizable stage. It’s the blue roof. Yep, the blue lit roof with imitation star-lights is pretty special. These lights stay on all gig and serve as a reminder of where you are and what you are experiencing.

I had a few mates in tow this evening. One, a massive Mogwai fan, another had travelled all the way from Perth to see them. Well, strictly speaking he was here for the Golden Plains festival but lets not let truth ruin a good tale, eh.

I knew very little of support act Beaches, apart from that they were an all girl group and the couple of tracks I had heard on Triple R. After watching their rather short set (only about 30 minutes) I still cant tell you much about them, except that they are good. Very good. An excellent choice of support for Mogwai. Their dual vocals and three-pronged guitar attack release a richer sound that you might expect. Interestingly enough they had cast a spell over the die-hard Mogwai fans there earlier enough to clammer for the front row. Worth a second look.

The first thing that you notice about Mogwai is that there are no microphones on the stage, save the one on the right hand side used solely for the purpose of guitarist Stuart Braithwaite to greet and thank the crowd. Without much fuss they launch into ‘I’m Jim Morrison, ‘I’m Dead’, the lead track of their latest release, The Hawk Is Howling. They lean heavily on this album throughout the evening, playing tracks including ‘I Love You I’m Going To Blow Up Your School’, ‘Thankyou Space Expert’ and ‘Batcat’. They also delve into ‘Scotland’s Shame’ which, while hard to explore or interpret a song with no lyrics, seems to be a powerful and very personal lament about the band’s heritage and homeland. Mogwai then moves to the Come On Die Young album for the full throttle of ‘Christmas Steps’. Mogwai’s great strength is not just that they are brilliant musically, it’s also the skillful method with which they craft their set – ebbing and flowing between the haunting piano and dream-like aura of ‘Friend Of The Night’, to the grind, noise and destruction of such tracks as ‘Like Herod’ (delivered with particular eardrum destroying abandon this evening). This is how they earned their reputation as a great performers.

After rapturous applause Mogwai returns for an encore, delivering ‘The Precipice’ and the deliciously Scottish-titled ‘We No Here’. With the crowd dispersing and the onset of tinnitus inevitable, I relive the the gig from the comfort of my tram seat and smile, knowing that I have witnessed a tour-de-force in modern music. Oh yeah, and that ‘they’ would approve.

Eddy Current Suppression Ring

Roar Sounds
Melbourne Zoo
February 19, 2009

It’s always good to see that despite the global financial crisis, despite the threat of terrorism and nuclear destruction, through change of government and change of climate, that one class of people, one community, will rise above the heartache and heartbreak and conquer all. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: The Punter.

Their focus, dedication and loyalty to the cause separates them from the rest of humanity and on Thursday night, at the Melbourne Zoo, they were out in full force to bask in a balmy evening of booze, food and rock’n'roll.

First cab of the rank was Tame Impala. I had been spruiking these guys to friends all week, telling them to make sure they get there early etc etc. So staggering in near the end of their set was a major disappointment, but consistent with my overall tardiness. I’d been lucky enough to catch these guys a couple of times and with the big sound they deliver, it’s hard not to stop what you are doing and award them your undivided attention. Their 60s-influenced psychedelic sound is a refreshing change to the bland electro-pop that seems to be flooding the music stores at the moment. Interestingly enough, a few recent reviews have painted them with the ‘Hendrix’ brush – as if it’s a negative thing to sound like Jimi! Crazy times we live in, kids. I still get a kick out of their version of Blue Boy’s ‘Remember Me’ and more so the crowd’s reaction when they cotton on to what they are hearing. Smiles all round.

By the time Eddy Current Suppression Ring came on (and with the obligatory Wally Meanie sighting checked off the ‘You Know Your At a Melbourne Gig’ list) we, The Punters, were ready to be sonically assaulted.

Now I ask you, is there a better live band going around at the moment than Eddy Current Suppression Ring?

Take your time…

… Right, then we agree on that! They always bring it, always play strong and always seem genuinely happy to be there. I don’t think you’ll see Eddy Current ‘mail in’ a gig anytime soon.

Leading with ‘Memory Lane’, Eddy Current’s raw guitar hits you like a slap to the face, with the rhythm section of Rob Solid (Bass) and Danny Current (Drums) hot in pursuit.

The heavy bass intro to ‘Sunday’s Coming’ saw Brendan Suppression relax a little, and as the band rolled into  ‘You Let Me Be Honest With You’, we had the beginnings of a great night. A lesser writer would be throwing in Zoo puns left, right and centre here about how the crowd were ‘going ape’ and were a ‘pack of animals’ but not I – especially as strong performances of crowd favorites like ‘Which Way To Go’ distracted my crew and I from the horrendously lame discussion of puns that we had begun. Leaving sophmore album Primary Colours, the boys delved into their earlier self-titled release, including ‘Insufficient Funds’ and building to ‘Precious Rose’. Arriving late, I was far enough back not to be in amongst the crowd for these two songs. Reports of a high body-count and casualty rate are yet to be confirmed, but are assumed.

‘Colour Television’ (a personal favorite) and ‘I Admit My Faults’ came in quick succession, before loyal fan base classics ‘Get Up Morning’ and ‘Cool Ice Cream’ arrived at the pinnacle of the evening, with the night closing on ‘Turn Your Page’.

And with that, The Punters dissolved into the warm evening to find their next drink knowing that they had done their bit to help right some of the wrongs of the world.