Yeah, I know, Falls was a billion year ago. But that doesn’t mean you can’t check out our gallery, okay? Props to Olivia Blackburn for the rad pics….

So, Meredith, how does it feel to be 21?  Did you have a good time? Oh…you don’t remember much? I didn’t think so…you were pretty messy. Let me fill you in.

You were up early (really early) on Friday. You said it was worth it to get a great campsite, but in the end you were pretty spoilt for choice. Would it be the brand new Tom Mankey’s – with its awesome stage views – or the ever dependable, yet potentially mud soaked bush camp?

But who cares where you decided to leave your bags, the action was going on at your, ah what do you like to call it? Oh yes, the  ‘Supernatural Amphitheatre’. Supernatural is perhaps a bit rich Meredith, there was nothing paranormal going on just yet – although some mysterious vanishing acts were performed on the contents of my wallet. 7 dollars for a slice of pizza?

King Gizzard and The Lizard Wizard rocked up first, crashing through the door and greeting you with a loud ‘Cheers!’.  Everyone was pleased you invited Kurt Vile along, ‘Jesus Fever’ gave us all a good dance. Someone told me he gave up his job as a forklift driver to play music. That’s pretty cool, Meredith. I’ll tell you what else is cool, those hippies having a piñata party in the bush camp. Do you remember that?

I know you love your costumes, but this year you went all out. Pope Benedict? SCUBA gear? Sumo Wrestler? Hell, I even saw you in an adult diaper at one point. Where the hell did you find that?

You did a little flirting on the first evening. Explosions in the Sky told us that they had ‘heard good things’ about you. That’s pretty flattering Meredith. They kept to themselves after that…didn’t say a word actually. But you had a gift for them, a golden sunset. I think the two of you were meant to be.  Oh, and did you see Ladyhawk? She might be a bit tacky sometimes, but she sure turned some heads when she passed by.

Even though you stayed up late, getting filthy with Harmonic 313, you were up early to greet Oscar + Martin – those strange kids that you can’t quite pin down. Are they cool because they are weird? Or weird because they are cool? Who knows.

Man, did you see Mudhoney covering, ‘Fix Me’ by Black Flag with Keith Morris on vocals?! Surely you couldn’t have been behind that little surprise.

Of course, being your 21st, Saturday night had plenty of time for some of the oldies to get up and say some words. Icehouse prompted a few respectful yawns, but Cut/Copy’s youthful exuberance got everyone up and about. You gave us a quick shower to cool off before Grinderman, which was lucky, because Nick Cave seemed to want to be close enough to smell you – getting right up in your grill and yelling ‘give me all your money’. After a set full of gleeful, crowd-grasping insanity, he gave you the shock of your life by saying ‘that’s it’ for Grinderman. Please say it ain’t so Meredith?

The morning after was a little awkward. No one wanted to admit to dancing to Big Freedia, in fact I heard a lot of people wanted to punch him. Luckily, Eagle and the Worm shook off the hangover and got everyone grooving again.

As usual, you had one final gift for us, although this year ‘the gift’ was a little different. Your new friend Dennis Cometti certainly made us laugh, and yet again all those wangs flapping about in the wind made us cry.

Well that’s about it, I think everyone would agree that you were in pretty good form. They say 21^sts are all about coming of age, and Meredith, you have aged oh so well.

All images courtesy Chip Mooney

Walter and wife, Dorota, have established a rather niche cooking school across the road from what is undoubtedly the gastronomic temple of Melbourne cuisine, the Prahran market. I recently joined a group of avid foodies for four hour snapshot of what Walter does. I’ll be honest – I was a bit hesitant at first as I’ve always ended up going along to cooking classes where they teach you how to make a lasagne or other mundane Wednesday night home meals. That preconception was whipped from my mind as we walked into the enormous kitchen/classroom. A fully kitted out homage to everything that is great about preparing food; Le Creuset as far as the eye could see, pimped out Kitchenaids, copper pots, Electrolux induction and gas cook tops, oversized canisters of ingredients. I didn’t want to leave.

After we sat down around the enormous kitchen bench/table set for dinner it was clear this was no ordinary cooking class. Walter explained his heritage, the amazing restaurants he has worked and his recent appreciation of organic produce. Our first, I would call amuse bouche tied into Walters philosophy of understanding produce and using it appropriately. We were served tomatoes in a number of configurations, simply to illustrate that each part of the fruit delivers a different textural and flavour component (it also helped they were the best quality organic tomatoes and tasted amazing).

This idea flowed through to the appetiser which was the same dish served with Sydney Rock Oysters and then Tasmanian Oysters; garnished with diced cucumber, beetroot jelly and a seafood velouté with a nice hit of fresh horseradish. The subtle differences between the two oysters were intriguing and were matched well with Piper NV Brut.

We went on to enjoy three more courses carefully matched with a range of Shawdowfax wines each more perfect than the last, whilst still learning about how to best use ingredients (even in a home kitchen).

Trupp Cooking School has been open since August and offers a range of classes, with many including a visit to the Prahran market to learn how to pick great produce. This session ran for about four hours and with prices starting at $129 and a huge range of courses available, it’s a great way to spend an evening, enjoying amazing food and learning the tricks of the trade. My tip, this beats an awkward first date at a very good restaurant.

The Menu

Entrée
Amuse Bouche
Textures and flavours of Tomato

Apetiser
Sydney Rock/Tasmanian Oysters w/ diced Cucumber, Beetroot Jelly, Horseradish velouté

Entrée
Salmon Ballotine with Cauliflower, endive salad with blanched school prawns and spelt.

Main
Roasted Beef Fillet w/ a herb crust, sautéed vegetables, pomme fondant, vegetables stuff with crushed peas.

Dessert
Goat milk/yoghurt vanilla panna cotta with seasonal fruits, saffron syrup, saffron jelly and wildflowers.

For more information, head to the Trupp Cooking School website.

Laneway food writer, Charlie Cunningham, is a social media and digital marketing whiz by day and blogger, booze aficionado and Modern Warfare 3 expert by night. Catch him via Twitter, Facebook or his food blog, Lusciousness.

Only in its second year, this year’s lineup is loaded with gigs, events, seminars, workshops and films, so trying to whittle down the 170+ acts to a Top 5 was pretty damn hard…so I took the easy way out and opted for the best-looking-slash-performers-I-like-and-I-don’t-care-if-you-don’t-like-them approach.

Here we go…

KUBIK Melbourne
DJ Krush, Cut Copy DJs, Midnight Juggernauts, Lewie Day, World’s End Press, Gaslamp Killer, Alexkid…anything at Kubik, really…

Have you seen this thing? Constructed by some clever design people in Berlin, the travelling open-air pop-up venue is made from industrial water tanks which light up in sync with the performance. Video mapping and sound design complete this truly immersive musical experience, a visual and aural (and delightful) feast for the senses.

Details and tickets via Kubik and peep the vid below to get a glimpse of Kubik in action.

kubik hamburg 2009 from Balestra Berlin on Vimeo.

Live Music Safari
Joelistics, Spiral Stairs & Wally De Backer, Puta Madre Brothers

So the purpose of MMW’s Live Music Safari is thus: a huge spread of free gigs, DJs and seminars will be splayed across Melbourne for one day only and your mission is to traverse the city and get to as many of these gigs as possible. Kick off at 1000£ Bend for an up-close-and-personal conversation with Spiral Stairs and Wally De Backer and make your way to venues like Revolt in Kensington, Roxanne Parlour, Cherry Bar and The Toff in the CBD and the Town Hall Hotel in North Melbourne until the wee hours of the morning. Put your running shoes (or rocket boots) on!

Giant Theremin – Move’n’Mash-up
Dexter

Oh, this reminds me of that time when I saw Dexter on the 109 tram. In real life, he is every bit as freakin’ cool as you would expect him to be. Dexter will be hosting a workshop for sampling and sound design enthusiasts. Warning: there will also be some hip-hop dancing, krumping and breaking involved so make sure you bring your sickest moves with you, yeah?

Face The Music

This two-day workshop focuses on every single behind-the-scenes facet of the music industry including recording, production management, PR, festivals, touring and record deals and is a must for both bands and anyone wanting to break into the industry. Some of the most influential local and international figures will be holding seminars and workshops and sharing their experiences with the audience with one of the highlights being a keynote speech by Brent Grulke of SXSW.

Ponyfish Island Presents Aesthetics of Sound

Over the course of Melbourne Music Week, bars, cafes, galleries and retails stores around the city will interpret Aesthetics of Sound by way of live music, installations, exhibitions or product offers unique to their venue. Ponyfish Island will host a series of live music gigs by artists including Isaac De Geer, Hiatus Kaiyote and Yeo.

For all the details including dates, venue info and ticket prices, hit up the Melbourne Music Week website

Joelistics image: All Aussie Hip Hop

Gaslamp Killer image: I Heart Comix

When a couple of Scottish pastoralists chose Werribee Park as the site for their glorious Italiante mansion, you have to wonder whether they could have ever imagined that, well over a century later, it would become a backdrop for a Canadian electronica band with the not-so-subtle title of Holy Fuck.

This premise of ‘unfamiliar location = unfamiliar festival’ seems to be the overriding ethos of Harvest, the trendy new kid on the already crowded summer festival block. Described by event organisers as a ‘civilised gathering’, Harvest’s obvious appeal is as a kind of hipster haven, an escape from the pre-teen parade that is Big Day Out and the bogan beat-down of Soundwave. With an IBPSQM (ironic beards per square meter) rating that was simply off the charts, and plenty of 90s nostalgia in the air –Harvest set its sights on the diverse, yet difficult to please crowd of culture vultures and fashionable flaneurs.

Despite the crotch sniffing canines at the gate, the lavish gardens of Werribee Park made for a shady, comfortable and altogether enjoyable setting in which to take in the range of avante guard and alternative entertainment on offer. Although frequent glimpses of bare-arsed patrons relieving themselves in dense shrubbery belied the ‘civilised gathering’ tagline, Harvest managed to achieve its goal of providing an atmospheric environment, that often felt more like a picnic in the park than a typical music festival.

Ignoring the warm Spring weather, Hamilton Leithauser of The Walkmen sweated through his bands energetic set wearing a suit jacket. Elsewhere, TV on the Radio proved to be one of the festival’s more popular acts, drawing an enthusiastic crowd to their late afternoon timeslot. Indie rock staples Bright Eyes started well, but suffered from the inevitable rush to the amenities that tends to occur before the headline acts begin. One festival-goer remarked that most of ‘the gathering’ tended to occur around the food and drink coupon tents, with many of the lines eclipsing the crowd numbers at some of the smaller stages. To say Harvest was under-catered would be a severe understatement – the kegs were dry before the sun was down and the wafts of fried food from the Brazilian BBQ stand were quickly replaced by the scent of manure from the surrounding paddocks.

While Harvest will probably cop its fair whack from bloggers and forum-goers about these issues, the reality is that it did nothing to detract from the quality of some of the headline acts. The wonderfully understated Mogwai unleashed a tsunami of noise that was only broken by guitarist Stuart Braithwaite stopping to thank the ‘wild animals’ at nearby Werribee Zoo. Over on the main stage, The National’s moody anti-theatre gave way to Portishead, whose return after a 13 year absence had the crowd hanging on every one of Beth Gibbon’s soulful words. With the Werribee Mansion now lit up behind the band’s spartan visuals, the stage was well and truly set for a balanced setlist that would satisfy die-hards and newcomers alike. Moving from the peculiar psychedelica of Sour Times to the electo-assualt of Machine Gun (complete with apocalyptic visuals that featured Tony Abbot shooting lasers from his eyes), the band’s no fuss stage presence allowed Gibbon’s delicate (and often complicated) melodies to soar. Then, just as the final, breathless, verse of Roads moved many to tears, The Flaming Lips appeared from a giant vagina.

Yes, a giant technicolor vagina. Playing just over five songs, and firing enough confetti into the air sink an aircraft carrier, The Lips again showed why they are festival pros. Despite a less than spirited crowd (the mood was not helped by frequent transport announcements during the set), the nonsensical She Don’t Use Jelly and The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song brought plenty of smiles – as did the party atmosphere on stage – which was filled with colorful dancers that had been hand picked from the crowd. The spirited set concluded with the anthemic Do you Realize?, which prompted a mass exodus from the Windmill paddock. After the bottleneck to end all bottlenecks at the tiny exit – the ‘stationary, unmoving line’ motif returned again in the carpark. But where many festivals would spiral out of control at this point, Harvest seemed to remain…well…civilised, a festival that, despite its problems, offered something pretty unique.

All images courtesy Jo Stewart

Yep, I’m aware Falls Festival happens over New Year’s Eve. And yes, I also know it’s only October. I do realise the tickets for the Lorne Falls have sold out HOWEVER, as we’re sooooo excited about the lineup, we thought we’d try and convince you to buy a ticket to Falls in Marion Bay. So for those of you playing at home, here are the Top 5 Reasons Why You Must Go To Falls…

#5: It's an overseas trip

Tassie is over the Tasman Sea, is it not? One of my gal pals missed out on Lorne tickets last year and took off to Marion Bay instead AND LOVED IT. Yes, folks, Tasmanians cop a lot of shit for being…Tasmanian…but let’s throw them some props for a change. Also, did I mention Lorne has sold out? So if you wanna go to Falls, you don’t really have any choice BUT to go to Tassie.

#4: Falls Fiesta

It’s a legit excuse for you to wear WHATEVER YOU WANT INCLUDING YOUR BIRTHDAY SUIT*. Is there a better way to bring in the New Year than a spectacular fancy-dress fiesta? I think not. AND there will probably be conga lines. A lot of them. Did I just hear you say “Hellz YEAH!”?

#3: Falls Films

Exclusive to Marion Bay is the Madman equivalent of Movie Night. And because it’s Madman, it will probably involve anime, samurai, zombie ninjas, robot pirates, Robot Chickens, Happy Tree Friends…you get the drift. So bring your deckchair and your esky and settle in for what’s sure to be less awkward than a couple on their first date at Moonlight Cinema.

#2: The Lineup

I’m not really sure what to say here, other than: Aloe Blacc, Kimbra, Alpine, Crystal Castles, The Jezabels, The Kooks, The Naked & Famous…I can’t go on, I think I’m having a minor heart attack from the excitement of even mentioning these names.

#1: Because this dude is playing….

I mean really, REALLY…do I NEED to say anymore?

If the above five reasons don’t cut it, there are plenty more on the website. Or you can just sit at home or whatever.

Buy Marion Bay tickets here.

*I’m just kidding, don’t wear your birthday suit…that’s just gross.

Sure, contemporary dance has the potential to work with popular music and tough politics.  But in Political Mother, it doesn’t.  It fails – big time.

The piece opens with a lone figure on the stage: a soldier, judging by his costume.  The theatre is filled with smoke, the air is silent and expectant.  The soldier draws his sword, and stabs it through his gut.  Pared back, graphic and direct, it should be a pretty affecting moment, right?  But it isn’t.  The dancer’s jerking motions as he pretends to writhe in agony are awkward, almost comic.  And then the crashingly loud score begins mid-crescendo, destroying any subtlety the moment might have had.  A disappointing opening from a company turbo-hyped as the next big thing in contemporary dance.

From here, things kind of get worse.  Other soldiers turn up wearing armour that looks a bit like that plastic chocolate you can get in two dollar shops.  A hard rock band – complete with raspy-voiced grindcore vocalist with big hair and cocked hips – makes regular appearances that make you almost wonder whether this is in fact some kind of a Spinal Tap sequel.  Oddly, a gorilla mask turns up a couple of times, prompting audible giggles from the mid-sized audience.  The score continues to alternate between oh-so-eerie windswept silence to oh-so-edgy full-throttle cock rock.

It’s not as if the show didn’t have promise.  Touted as a rage-fuelled treatise on the dangers of mass ideology, Political Mother could have raised some of the important issues of the day that too many contemporary performances shy away from.  The trouble is, it’s too vague – its anger, while palpable, is too unfocused and hysterical to have any meaningful impact.  Scenes of some kind of military or political leader addressing an imaginary crowd are farcically didactic – they might be intended to ‘make you think’ but in fact they make you cringe…and maybe even bristle at the implication that you aren’t capable of a more nuanced critique.

Similarly, the idea of marrying the bombast of a rock show with the elegance of dance has wonderful potential to invigorate both formats.  Sadly though, Shechter is too enamoured of the thrill of alternating from silent to deafening to find any subtle middle-ground.  The head-banging performance, which might be quite fun at the Arthouse, feels laughably affected at the Arts Centre.

There are moments of beautiful choreography that interweave folkdance with military punishment, as gleeful circle-form whirling dervishes become glum work gangs sapped of life.  Repeated wildly erratic jerky motions play well against ordered formations among the eleven performers, offering a lovely tension between regimented order and desperate resistance.

But these moments of lyrical dance repeatedly degenerate into generalisations and histrionics.  Political Mother, hotly anticipated after a successful world tour, disappoints relentlessly.

I’m not sure what comes to mind when you hear the words “multi-talented” but for me it’s now this: Tom Tom Crew.

The lads and their gasp-inducing act are back in town, debuting at Melbourne Festival, after travelling the world over for the past five years doing what no other does.

Half a decade on the road doesn’t seem to have wearied them though – or, judging by the appreciative squeals from ladies in the audience, their bodies – because the energy and pace circulating The Forum Theatre come 8pm had the old foundations rocking.

Tom Tom Crew is drumming with such speed the eye can’t keep up and acrobatics that defies gravity to elicit how-the-bloomin’-hell type gasps. But they’re also much more.

The beat boxing skill of Tom Thum is quite probably beyond description. Suffice to say, you’ve never heard anything like it. Unless, of course, you’ve happen to stumble across a single gent who can replicate the aura of a twenties jazz club – vocals, sax, trumpet, trombone, bass included – using only his voice, a mic and a sampler.

And while it’s an accepted fact that most shows tends to lull at one point or another, down-time for this energetic mob came from an effortless display of contortionism. During which the audience were so fixated, be they squirming or not, that attentions did not waiver for a second.

Yet the most impressive aspect of Tom Tom Crew is not the beat-boxing, acrobatics, percussions, break-dancing, drumming, contortion or scratching, but rather the guys themselves. They are cool. And they truly love what they do. It’s something you notice not only by watching them, but by feeling the energy they’re putting into each performance.

I guess if the artistic director of Melbourne Festival, Brett Sheehy, had referred to your act as “probably the coolest show of the festival” you’d be buzzing with positive vibes too!

Catch yourself some cool-factor before they sell out.

When asked to contemplate his decision and its impact upon his enjoyment of 2011, the ever-so-thoughtful frontman explains, “I sort of split the year into two as to how I remember it. Embarking on the solo tour was the first big thing. I had to learn how to hold my own without three of my best friends behind me. It was a challenge that I was up for.”

While the deceptively shy song-smith knew he needed to step out of his comfort zone, the move was never motivated by a desire to ditch his close pals, but rather develop a greater understanding of his own onstage persona and to better his already amazing songwriting. He notes, “I think I kind of worked it out by the end of the tour. I worked out how to present my songs on my own, which was really satisfying to be able to play those songs in their most basic form and see how people react to them. It is a privilege that not many band guys get to have. I was so fortunate to have been able to do that. By the end of it, it was guiding me as to how I want to write in the future.”

With Oh Mercy all set to close the year with the release of Gow’s favourite song on the record, the chirpy, Blue Lagoon – and a set of full-band dates – Gow is clearly relishing being back with his buds and focusing his efforts firmly on the future for Oh Mercy.

“I guess the second half of the year has been spent writing new material for a new album. I’m having a lot of fun doing that. It is going to be a marked difference from the last one. I will always try to make one album different from the other. I am not interested in making the same album twice. I also don’t think fans are really interested in hearing the same album twice,” says Gow.

While he is not an artist who criticises the work of others, he has clear aspirations as a songwriter that he feels some of his contemporaries lack. Without any hint of malice, he sighs, “Some bands have had wonderful careers out of making the same album ten times, but it doesn’t suit my interests.” While he is determined to make album three a different kettle of fish to Great Barrier Grief, he is currently not in a position to raise expectations. When asked to define his intended differences, he is only able to point to the fact that “the last album was quite romantic, so this will be a little less romantic.”

With the taste buds wet but wanting more, we switch our focus from his writing spree to the year that was. When asked about his highlight of that year that was (and still is), the sincere songwriter pauses. Not wishing to offer a flighty misrepresentation of his year, he takes his time and seriously thinks about what really has meant the most. He finally arrives at his answer. “I suppose my highlight of the year is being asked to join my favourite Australian band on stage at the Queenscliff Festival in November,” he offers.

“I am getting to play a selection of early The Triffids singles. I also get to be one of the guest vocalists with the band themselves. I guess my appreciation and admiration for that band make it such an incredible honour. I am just so excited.”

Like a child in a sweet shop, Gow, despite his own incredible success, is all beady-eyed at the prospect of joining his own heroes. Completely void of any ego or expectation, the musician has already started his prep to ensure he does not let his own idols, or himself, down.

“I have a had a bit of a fiddle around on my own. It has been pretty liberal about which tracks we can choose. There are a couple which I am really dying to do. One is called Revelry and another called Spanish Blues. I started looking at ways we can do it that are different to the original, so they suit my voice and the band.”

Though he concedes that the final decisions about who does what are yet to be made, the humble soul is happy to have been selected and is not about to push to the front of the queue with a list of demands. With a real innocence, he states “there are lots of vocalists who have already worked with The Triffids and I so I am quite happy to wait my turn at the end of the queue. I don’t necessarily have a favourite track. I am yet to find out which song I am going to do as a guest vocalist. But I guess the early stuff is my favourite, so I hope I get to do one of those.”

Oh Mercy will play the Queenscliff Music Festival, 25-27 November 2011. Their album, Great Barrier Grief is out now through EMI Australia.

ohmercy.com.au

All Images Copyright Jeremy Williams

An unlikely combination of dancers and singers, movement and sound, ancient and modern, the simple and the stunning: Assembly is a triumph of mix ‘n’ match.

Over 60 performers gather on a stark plywood staircase on the otherwise empty stage: eight Chunky Move dancers, seven solo singers, and over 50 Victorian Opera choral singers.  There is no music, there are no movements – it’s just 60 people standing there staring.  As the lights come up, you’d be forgiven for secretly sighing to yourself, dreading the oh-so-po-mo ‘the performers are the audience’ snorefest to come.  But over the next hour, this crowd of people hum and click with voices and feet, tumble and teeter up and down the stairs, and trill and croon a cappella compositions ranging from 1600s early-music Plainchant through to ‘60s Motown.  It turns out that this is a performance that’s every bit as entertaining as it is intelligent.  (Incidentally, much of the Plainchant early-music was composed by a guy called Carlo Gesualdo, who is famous for brutally stabbing his wife – who was also his first cousin – when he caught her in bed with her lover in his locked-up castle.)

Assembly was conceived by Chunky Move founding Artistic Director Gideon Obarzanek and will be his final work with the company.  The piece has all the familiar hallmarks of a Chunky Move production: a mischievous sense of humour, a blending of virtuosic (largely floor-based) dance and deliberately amateurish movements, and a refreshingly fast pace for we of the YouTube generation.  The choreography focuses on poetic patterns in and rhythmic repetitions in anonymous everyday activities – there are no lifts or aerial acrobatics, but the magic of 60 people moving as one is in its way every bit as impressive.

The collaboration with Victorian Opera is seamless.  The dancers hum and hiss along with the singers, and the choir surge and sway in near-perfect time with the dancers.  While there are a few beautiful solos (both sung and danced), Assembly is really about the crowd: the individuals lost to the collective, their motions and murmurs blending together, surging and subsiding in overlapping unison.  The pitter-patter of soles slapping against steps becomes the percussion and the subtle rhythms of colour in the deceptively simple costume changes becomes the set.  Assembly succeeds in finding a subtle yet striking sense of wonder in the everyday.

‘I thought this show was going to be about crowds, but it seems to be more about a need to experience something greater than one’s individual self,’ Obarzanek writes in the comprehensive (and free) program.  That might sound worryingly new-age and spiritual…but Assembly is about the magic down here in the streets and the subway, not up there in the sky.  It’s life-affirming stuff.