Future Music Festival
Flemington Racecourse
March 7, 2010

The cry from the poncho-clad crowd was unanimous: they were not happy, shouting down the call to “please remain calm”.

Moments earlier, Scottish boys Franz Ferdinand had them churning up the ground in front of main Future Music stage, where the wet grass was rapidly giving way to proper gumboot-painting mud. And then, suddenly, the artfully built excitement was shut down, like a light bulb dying with a pop and a curl of smoke.

The downpour, and whispered news of “100-kilometre winds,” had proved too much, and the stage at Melbourne’s Future Music Festival was “temporarily shut down”.

We had been warned.

But the messages of “adverse weather conditions ahead,” that had flashed up on the stage’s screens during Franz Ferdinand’s jumping set had somehow only added to the excitement. To the crowd, the rain had simply turned Melbourne’s Flemington Racecourse into an enormous muddy shower. All those years of singing behind the fogged-up screen were practice for this day; when the city flaunted her famous bi-polar weather to full effect.

The morning of the festival had dawned more promisingly, with only a light drizzle sent down from heavy grey skies. But the sticky heat had people in t-shirts and shorts, and the line-up (The prodigy, Empire of the Sun, David Guetta, Franz Ferdinand, Booka Shade, the always-catchy Operator Please, Bag Raiders, Boys Noize, Does it offend you, yeah? Dub Fire, and Eric Morillo to name a few) was more than enough to outweigh concerns about the weather forecast, which predicted storms at around 3pm.

The crowds flooded in later than the expected 12pm start, watched on by some rather excited muzzled dogs and their handlers, eyeing the loiterers along Epsom road.

Warming up the afternoon, Queensland’s Operator Please had the crowd sweating as the sun broke through the cloud at the Pink Flamingo stage. Lead singer Amandah Wilkinson proved her unique voice was made for a live mic, throwing in a Beyonce cover along with radio darlings ‘Yes Yes Vindictive’, ‘Get What You Want’, and ‘Leave it alone’.

Those caught unaware by the sun were quickly sporting a raw pink glow.

As the day wore on, the anticipation for the headlining acts grew, but so too did the nerves, as the storm clouds bore down upon the city and the sky grew dark. And so it was that at around 5.30pm the First Class viewing area (two-storey and decadently undercover) by the Future Music stage was receiving some dirty looks from the increasingly sodden crowd.

Most danced on regardless, the water washing away inhibitions as a succession of half-naked men scrambled up a large pole in front of the stage to be met with a volley of water bottles upon reaching the top.

Franz Ferdinand had the crowd singing, their energy easily matching Columbian-American DJ Eric Morillo, who had owned the stage moments before. I’m not sure which member of the crew was hoisted up to sweep the water off the roof as Franz Ferdinand chanted out “Take me out” below, but I can bet they had a memorable time braving the wind and rain while doing it.

The stage was shut down after the set ended. However, the crowd bit back their anger, and after what felt like 20 minutes of relative quiet, we were told that yes, the show would go on. Those who walked away from the main stage came running back as David Guetta fired up. It was like a muddy mediaeval battle charge, “waaarghoooooh yeah”.

Nobody blinked an eye as a group of men emerged marching towards the right-hand side of the stage, a marquee defiantly plucked from the grass and hoisted above their shoulders.

Over on the Pink Flamingo stage, which had also been shut down earlier, Empire of the Sun’s Luke Steele sat tight, waiting for the rain to let up for his performance – which lacked AWOL band mate Nick Littlemore. This ultimately took one-hour and meant German DJ Boys Noize was forced to cancel his set.

Fortunately headliners the Prodigy were able to perform, exploding onto the Future Music stage with their trademark frenetic energy and a succession of well-know hits.

Afterwards, for those who hadn’t spent the day sheltering in the Solid Gold Roller Disco or the tented Above & Beyond and Silent Disco areas, it was a cold and wet journey home.

Dinosaur Jr.
Corner Hotel
March 4, 2010

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.

The Memory Progressive
Phantom Limbs
fortyfivedownstairs
February 24 – 27, 2010

Organically beautiful. That was the phrase that eventually morphed out of my brain as I attempted to grapple with the right collection of adjectives in the English language to describe The Memory Progressive.

I was slightly apprehensive as I settled into the piece, by emerging dance company Phantom Limbs. More familiar with theatre than with dance performance, I was uncertain about devoting myself to watching an art form I didn’t feel I could really appreciate for a whole hour. I was wrong.

I came away feeling I had witnessed a live portrayal of a sort of kaleidoscope of black-clad limbs and bodies that moved together, at times in staccato, and at other times in fluid motion. The performers seemed to form a sort of mechanical machine with cogs and moving parts that circled around each other, weaving in and out, sometimes copying, sometimes mirroring, nearly always moving in two pairs coming toward a central focus point, perhaps orbiting around each other, and then scaling back out again.

The piece wasn’t entirely focused on dance and the body itself. Central to the work were themes of memory loss, the role of technology in mental reconstruction, and the phenomenon of telepathy. Although, in a very ‘posty’ performance – post-apocoloyptic and post-dramatic – the audience could add any number of meanings.

Pivotal points of the narrative occurred in a sequence at the start that was repeated later in the piece. Here the four performers shouted and pouted. It appeared that there was a death, although no one knew who was killed or why or how or by who, and none could remember what had happened, despite the attempts to provoke memory through sensory images.

Music and lighting (James P Brown) were crucial to the piece, adding to the tone of the moving limbs; at times fluid and gentle, at other times mechanic and jarring. They revoked the narrative by aiding sensory layers of meaning to the search for memory and identity, forming a nice juxtaposition to the slow erasure of sensors that the performers faced. Blankly vacant polaroid portraits, eye masks, earphones and balaclavas wiped out their identity and rendered them monotonous, faceless bodies.

The piece could have been slightly shorter – I did on occasion tune out to the monotony of music and movement. Although on later reflection my reaction was probably telling and added to the overall sense that the repetition of mechanics, and even of life, can leave the watcher or the participant numb and unable to engage or maintain concentration.

The highlight of the performance occurred between the two male performers (James Welsby and Rennie McDougall), their bodies like swan’s necks circling around each other as they both tried to break out of a web while simultaneously being drawn back into it by the other and by their own desire to remain together.

All together it was beautiful to watch, at times stylised and precise, at other times organic and liquid. As mentioned, my lack of knowledge of choreographic styles makes me a bit of a novice when it comes to describing these works, but my performance-art savvy friends tell me the ‘chory’ was fabulous — all thanks to the talented work of Amy MacPherson and James Welsby.

The Memory Progressive was performed by Phantom Limbs founders Amy Macpherson and James Welsby and new members Lily Paskas, and Rennie McDougall. Composed and animated by James P Brown and choreographed by Amy MacPherson and James Welsby.

The xx
Corner Hotel
February 3, 2010

Listening to The xx’s debut album, xx, is kind of like getting a new crush, or falling asleep wrapped in a cashmere blanket after a long day swimming in the sea… Listening to The xx live, however, is even better than that.

The Corner Band room was steamy by show time but the crowd didn’t seem fazed as they sipped cold beers and chattered under the blasting fans. I had no idea what to expect, buzz on the band live had been pretty meagre, but between the sold out Corner gig and their coveted spot on the Laneway touring circuit signs indicated that these youngsters had a bit of x factor (pardon the pun). Having been somewhat obsessed with their album since its launch in August last year, I’ve been eagerly waiting to see how their sound translates live. Given it was a very minimalist album, produced by band member Jamie Smith (beats & keys), I anticipated quite a low-fi set, and while some might say they played a safe set, with only one album and a couple of covers under their belts, I reckon The xx put out a very solid show.

At 10:15, as promised, the band took to their instruments and dove straight into ‘Intro’. It was a suitable warm up and the crowd swiftly hushed and started to sway with the twangy guitar and gentle synth. Before twenty minutes were up they had churned through radio favourites ‘Crystalised’ and ‘VCR’. Madley Croft’s seductive voice was given perfect attention during ‘Shelter’, which was charged with all the sexuality of a young indie girl who hasn’t yet culminated her desires. Where Sim’s voice sometimes seems dismissive and slightly bored on their album, live and especially in ‘Islands’, he penetrates a lot deeper and makes a much stronger presence, despite his looking scarily like a chav-esque Eminem.

The band rarely looked at each other on stage; the few times they did, they cracked up and you can tell they were old friends making music they love. But for the bulk of the gig they stared into the crowd intensely as if they were telling you something deeply private. The whispered duets between Madley-Croft & Sim are so personal that they can make you feel like you’re eavesdropping on lovers. When they sang ‘Heart Skips a Beat’ I felt like their tale of fresh heartache could almost be my own memory singing to me, it was that intimate, and while I pondered this I looked around the room and the hypnotic nodding from the crowd assured me I wasn’t alone.

Only a couple of times did the band give a taste of what is yet to come in their budding careers. Throbbing bass which vibrated in your spine and at times threatened to tear the ceiling fans down during the otherwise incredibly minimal ‘Fantasy’ really shook the room awake. This new shade to the trio’s sound was an excellent look at where these ingénues might be heading.

Their cover of Womack and Womack’s ‘Teardrops’ was the most composed of their arrangements. Much thicker drums, stronger guitar chords backed up Madley-Croft as she belted the song from her heart, even if her version of belting is more like a very loud whisper.

They finished as suddenly as they started, a swift forty-five minutes had past, leaving one favourite song yet played, which happily for me was their encore. ‘Stars’, a sweet song about a first date was an apt end to the night. Sim sang sincerely to the audience, “But if stars don’t shine for the very first time, then dear it’s fine by me, so fine by me, ‘cos we can give it time. So much time…” I don’t know if this was some kind of modest apology to the crowd for not playing longer, but from where I stood, stars were definitely shining.

Passion Pit
Corner Hotel
January 25

It’s not often in adult life that you get to let loose completely; I’m talking hands-in-the-air, euphoric-grin-plastered-on, screaming-wildly, hope-a-workmate-isn’t-watching, loose. But that’s exactly the response sugar-popsters Passion Pit won from an elated Corner Hotel crowd this Aus day eve.

It was a short but fairy-floss sweet performance by the super-hyped US quintet, which still seemed to be coming to terms with worldwide stardom. The group appeared genuinely surprised that a capacity crowd had forked out $70 each to see the show, and that the audience knew all the words to songs written not so long ago on the other side of the world. After all – global buzz aside – two years in, this is a band in its infancy.

This showed a little onstage, where Passion Pit was still finding its live feet. The band stuck closely to a pre-planned, 70-odd minute set and there was minimum chatter between songs. But this didn’t dull the feel-good power of an album and EP’s worth of lovie tunes – and yes, front-man Michael Angelakos’s voice really is that good live.

From the moment the curtain was raised to the opening electro-bops of ‘I’ve Got Your Number’, the Corner Hotel was theirs. Tempo wise, it was a relatively subdued start, but the band picked up the pace with ‘Better Things’, from the Chunk of Change EP, then falsettoed through most of the Manners album, including ‘The Reeling’ and the unbelievably well-received ‘Moth’s Wings’ and ‘Let Your Love Grow Tall’. The crowd danced harder and harder as the show went on.

And so by the time ‘Little Secrets’ dropped punters were wild with excitement – but happily wild, with jumping and singing and clapping and giant smiles. The audience managed to drown out the PA with its rowdy chorus sing-along, “higher and higher and higher and higher!”

So much fun.

With that, the band left stage, conveniently denying the Corner a couple of crowd faves. Cue encore.

Passion Pit was welcomed back with just as much affection as the band burst into ‘Eyes as Candles’ – “nah nah nah nah nah nah!” – before a curveball cover of the Canberries’ ‘Dreams’ – the most delicious Passion and Cranberry cocktail you’re ever likely to taste. But it was ‘Sleepyhead’ everyone was waiting for, and when it finally came the audience erupted. Again. And somehow even harder. Not a single foot remained on the ground longer than a second at a time. To be honest, I can’t really remember how the song sounded live – that moment was all about the blissfully happy, energetic, adoring response en masse. The perfect end to a very fun show.

Wow.

And if you missed out this time, don’t despair – Angelakos said he hopes to back in a couple of months. More love will await, I’m sure.

Groove Armada
Palace Theatre
January 27, 2010

I look up at the flecks of gold slowly spiralling down and settling on the crowd below. The Palace is taking a battering from the musical barrage unleashed by Groove Armada during its stellar Big Day Out sideshow performance, and the crowd is loving every minute of it.

Groove Armada perform at the Palace Theatre

Groove Armada played to an ecstatic crowd of Wednesday night partiers at the iconic Palace club on January 27th as part of a run of Big Day Out sideshow gigs. This tour comes ahead of the March release of their new album Black Light, which promises to show yet another side to this already chameleon-esque band.

The crowd was warmed up in the hours before by the dirty bass line mixes and trance drive sounds of Simian Mobile Disco DJs, who set the scene for the night to come with a vibrating wall of sound which would have found itself at home in any time slot between midnight and dawn.

Nothing could prepare, however, for the entrance of Groove Armada. Sporting a fresh look and headed up by new lead singer SaintSaviour (Becky Jones), they drove the crowd through 90 minutes of unstoppable dancing to their huge selection of songs. They ramped up the energy on the old tracks and merged them into a seamless mix of classic and sparkling new, while their enormous lighting rig hailed down laser lines and disco light upon the seething crowd. From their teaser two-minute sample of their best songs at the start of the set, all the way through to the roof raising spectacular of ‘Superstylin’, Groove Armada played an incredible and literally dazzling set to the enthusiastic masses below.

The star of the show, SaintSaviour looks set to become a rock queen in her own right following this tour, with uncopyable dance moves, a triple-shouldered reflective outfit fit for a quarterback in drag and a powerful vocal range to boot. Her stage presence blew the crowd away as they gazed up in awe at each and every extravagant move and pose.

In balance to this, MC M.A.D., Groove Armada’s original live front man, kept the crowd bopping with his steady stream of grooving lyrics and his ultimate chill attitude on stage, as he and SaintSaviour passed the mic between each other to perform their numbers with implacable ease.

It appears that Groove Armada is determined to once again defy categorisation with many of the songs from the upcoming album, having a strong 80s electro pop feel to it. The two advance singles already released, ‘I Won’t Kneel’ and ‘Warsaw’, were received with rapturous applause, however I feel the yet-to-be-released ‘Paper Romance’ will soon be the real show stopper. The live version has a sassy mix of electro pop, driving bass and an infectious, instantly learnable chorus. Or maybe I was just won over by the luminous red banding that lit up SaintSaviour’s outfit during the song…

The absolute show stealer, though, was an oldie; as Andy Cato stood up on stage with his trombone and played the unmistakable opening tune to ‘Superstylin’, the crowd went absolutely frenetic. This extended live version went for double the time of the original as MC M.A.D. teased the crowd along into a six-chorus finale.

Amazing show. Absolutely no regrets from this tired reviewer who’s been punished all day for being out so late on a school night.

This year’s Big Day Out – always a good teaser for individual performance – was an okay affair, with fashion seemingly as important as music and plenty of sunburn and Aussie flags to go around.

Mobile phones were ubiquitous, but the coverage was poor, saving us from those ever-exciting conversations along the lines of, “We’re near the big tree …. no, the tree …. you know, sorta near the stage ….” And there was security aplenty, which is a good thing given the drunk sweaty dudes, including the charming lad who enjoyed the heat of the Boiler Room so much he had to insult the “dykes” around him. Happy Australia Day to you too.

The Boiler Room, home to last year’s cracker of a performance by Lupe Fiasco, was again the place to be, with Itchee & Scratchee pleasing with ‘Sweetness & Light’ and the Midnight Juggernauts – whose singer seemed to be wearing a crown of thorns – undertaking the unenviable task of following Girltalk, one of the most hyped performances of the day. Surely Girltalk is the only performer around able to get sweet Gen Y gents to scream Kelly Clarkson at the top of their lungs. Throughout the energetic and patchy set, which featured Missy Elliott, Bruce Springstein, Lady GaGa, Daft Punk and Michael Jackson, Girltalk had a host of people dancing on stage (and, inexplicably, one woman releasing toilet paper through a dispenser onto the crowd). It was enormously fun, even if you’re sceptical about his contribution to the world of music, and ended with John Lennon’s ‘Imagine’, prompting one fan to explain to her friend that it was “The Beatles”.

Across to the expletive-laden set of UK’s Dizzee Rascal. Full of energy and machismo, Dizzee led a familiar chant at the main stage: “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, oi,oi, oi”. Now a biggish name, the performance seemed to be held back by the venue (likely better in the Boiler Room, or an individual arena), but the pop-ish songs, ‘Holiday’ and ‘Bonkers’, were indeed fun.

But hey, the ladies in particular were waiting for another Brit darling to make an appearance, particularly one punter who was seen sporting a “I’m here to have sex with Lily Allen” T-shirt. The diminutive star came out emblazoned in the Australian flag, a cig in her mouth, and a strut that would make Mick Jagger proud. Great haircut too, although things got a little dishelleved in the afternoon sun. Lily’s strengths, in my view, are her funny lyrics and down-to-earth charm; her notoriously patchy voice held up surprisingly well, particularly in a decent cover of the vintage ‘Just Be Good to Me’. The country music lament,’Not fair’, was a crowd-pleaser.

Straylove
Independent

Psychedelic rock isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but the brand promoted by Melbourne’s Straylove is well worth a listen to over a cold beer on a summer afternoon.

Straylove

Comprised of brothers Delaney and Harley Stewart (originally from De Ja Groove) and Mitch Yeo, Straylove formed towards the end of 2008 and has been doing the rounds of the Melbourne pub circuit, kicking off the New Year with a weekly gig at The Evelyn.

Most psychedelic rock I’ve heard is typified by long, freeform jam sessions by self-indulgent performers more concerned about getting lost in their own experience than keeping the crowd happy – I’ve never been a huge fan of the genre. So it came as a nice surprise to hear Straylove break out of this stereotype, a few of the songs having an edgier feel with a lot more emotion packed into the vocals. Check out ‘Crawl Over Me’ and ‘Need You Tonight’ to get an idea. This is certainly a good thing for a genre that often lulls punters into a head nodding stupor, when what they really need is a shake and some loud vocals every now and then to remind them that they’re still alive.

The band’s influences are clear to see through a number of tracks, with ‘Sunday Glory’ having definite tones of The Kinks running through it, to the extent that parts of it sound like a karaoke version of ‘You Really Got Me’, while other tracks have a lot more of a rock/groove feel to them.

Straylove could definitely do a bit more work across the range of their vocals though, with a couple of tracks sounding as though echo effects have been applied in a rush across the entire song rather than taking the time to apply the effect more selectively for a better result. That said, for newly formed outfit the sound does come off pretty decent.

While I’m not about to rush off to every pysch-rock performance on offer in this wide city, it certainly wouldn’t be a bad thing to have more bands like this playing in the background while you relax over an afternoon beer this summer. So I’d recommend seeing Straylove before autumn sinks its cold claws back into this city and you find yourself watching these guys in a dingy pub nodding your head along with all the other depressed punters.

You can check out Straylove online at both Facebook and Myspace or catch them live every Wednesday during January at The Evelyn, 351 Brunswick Street, Fitzroy, from 8pm.

Midsumma Carnival
Alexandra Gardens
January 17, 2010

The Midsumma Carnival was held on Sunday January 17th and was a vibrant start to three weeks of Midsumma festivities.

The Carnival is for everybody, but caters for the gay, lesbian, bi-sexual and transgender (GLBT) community.

Alexandra Gardens was the perfect location. It was in the grounds closest to Flinders Street which made it vey central and accessible (providing that you utilised public transport!) It was magnificent to have the backdrop of the city whilst enjoying the parklands.

The carnival contained stalls offering culturally-specific Gay and Lesbian support groups, health information and affiliation with particular aspects of GLBT lifestyle.

Wet weather threatened the carnival a few times throughout the seven-hour event, but the crowd remained full and relished the sunshine.

One of the highlights was the performance by three drag queens from the Commercial Hotel in Yarraville. They really drew a crowd and it was beautiful to see such a diverse group of people, ranging from families to gay youth, enjoying the show. That is what Midsumma is all about; the whole community supporting each other and having fun.

The food stalls had long lines, but you were welcome to bring your own. The over-18 drinking area was nestled amongst the tall palm trees of Alexandra gardens and the skate ramps divided the two areas of the carnival, effortlessly providing its own entertainment.

There was an excited yet peaceful vibe to the whole event and it was empowering to feel comfortable enough to hold my boyfriend’s hand and seeing others do the same.

For information about what’s on as part of the Midsumma Festival visit midsumma.org.au.

Burlesque Bar
42 Johnston Street, Fitzroy
Thur – Sun, 5pm till late

Betty Bump and Pippy Squeak of Burlesque Bar

“Is it true what they say? Is it all fun and games? Or is there more behind the makeup and the faces full of paint?” - Christina Aguilera, Enter the Circus
. . . . . . .

“Have you fellas been to a burlesque bar before?” laughs the doorman, exchanging fifteens for tickets at the entrance. “It’s very, very naughty…”

Welcome to a world where fun is the number one venture. Welcome to a night filled with whooping crowds, swooping girls, laughter, dancing and adventure. Welcome to the Burlesque Bar, Fitzroy – a slimline cigarette holder of a venue filled with Parisian features and the swinging hips of elegant, deviant sweethearts.

The Burlesque Bar is almost a well known hidden little secret – a Chinese whisper amongst the ether. Within the curtained windows and lamp filled façades, the pretty little wild things of the Burlseque Bar own the night…and they love it.

Firecracker quick, shooting star soon, the lanterns begin to dim and flicker. In a ripped millisecond the tiny one foot high stage whip-crackles and burns, poised to cum with human electricity. The host for the evening, Natalia, erupts strident and eager out of the kitchen and onto the stage wearing black lace underwear and corset singing ‘Bring on the men’ – a song about feasting and munching on men for breakfast, lunch and dinner each day. The crowd roars in aroused approval – this is their kind of kink.

A few moments later Natalia is haranguing and shanghaiing members of the audience, daintily and cheekily mocking them, asking them their names and deviously commenting on “beautiful, voluptuous breasts,” and men named Margaret.

“Anyway, enough of this joking,” snaps Natalia, dominant, curtly and abruptly. “Put your hands together for Betty Bump and Pippy Squeak…also known as Slap ‘n’ Tickle!”

The audience erupts, flares into beauty. Whooping rebel yells fill the arena. Big band music quickly follows to the sounds of liquor inducement as Betty Bump – an enchanting Bettie Page esque wonder – bounds onstage filled with feisty vivacious beauty. She quickly slinks into cabaret, slivering and snaking to the sound of ‘Mein Herr’ by Liza Minelli.

Pretty soon she trades places with Pippy Squeak – a sultry and cutesy Gatsby style blonde – who shimmies and strips to silk knickers and garters…a hit of champagne from a heel to blow out her show.

As the night moves through many movements, licks and manoeuvres, the room becomes louder, electric, blasting with liberation and dynamite. The mood heightens as each girl bounds into the darkened heart of the tiny but tightly wound crowd. Javier, the bar man, dances around – fetishistic, fiendish – slamming his hands on the bar in excitement, feverishly yelling with pure, uncut, walla-walla.

The speed and sound reaches a syncopation of climax and chaos – the devil is dancing, the snake charmer is lancing. Boom! Amplifier interior gunfire, pop-pops of small detonations bounce around the theatre. Snarling radios, echoes, weirdness.

“Frickin’ technical difficulties,” quips Natalia. “Now I sound like I’m talking out of a fish bowl. That’ll teach me to fuck up my lines. Ahem. Anyhow, darlings, it’s time for a little interaction…”

Natalia entices Margaret and his girlfriend onto the stage, dragging Javier along for the ride. A flick and a lick later she’s adding pink feather boas and having them pole dance and play for the room around Javier – much to the whooping crowd’s delight.

“You see, Margaret,” says Natalia. “When you use a woman’s name you get to snuggle with men. But anyhow, here’s the last part of the show for the night…Slap ‘n’ Tickle!”

Pippy Squeak and Betty Bump wander out of the kitchen, Pippy crawling on all fours seamed up like a cat, Betty Bump walking her on a soft, satin leash.

“There’s something appealing about a woman licking up milk,” says Natalia, buzzing with a mischievous grin.

A couple of milk soaked minutes later and the fun is flipped in the opposite direction – Betty Bump is tied to the leash and it’s her turn to walk on all fours through the crowd.

“Ah,” says Natalia. “There’s nothing like a woman in bondage…you should try it sometime…”

Paris, Berlin, 50s L.A. and a little dabble in grindhouse – these girls take you around the world in a whiplash. $15 a hit for a series of blitzkrieg-quick humour-filled striptreats would usually make people feel cheated. But this is burlesque and this is an amyl-nitrate esque funky ride. Fast, kooky, goofy and lusty. A cartoon manoeuvre with a foot and a toe in wild love and darkness, and a foot and a toe in the art of awe and performance.

As the crowd drifts into the murky neon cast-offs of Johnston street, Natalia sits high on the window balancing herself between glass ledge and thin air. Sipping from a beer, she says in leering to the crowd “It’s not the worst thing I’ve had between my legs, darling!”