Luke from Fires of Waco
Fires of Waco
Fires of Waco
Cider in the spare lens compartment
Castles Sunk Below The Sea
Castles Sunk Below The Sea
Castles Sunk Below The Sea
Headaches
Headaches
Browning Street Studios
Another weekend, another series of gigs in fun places.
More photos are up on Flickr. Words about the Headaches and Fires of Waco gig are up on Who The Hell.
Ironhide
Ironhide - Lochlan
Running power cords out the window.
Pedal boards for back-to-audience stance
We Lost The Sea - 8/9 band members shown
We Lost The Sea
Sorry for posting so much about The Manor, but I’ve been unable to leave the house for the last few weeks due to The Glange. Today cabin fever won out over glandular fever, so I checked out an all-ages metal/post-metal gig held in 4ZzZFM’s carpark. Both bands I saw were awesome and Ironhide busted out a Mastodon cover! Sickest.
For more photos, check out my Flickr profile.
After the ordeal that was Soundwave ‘08, I needed a year off before giving this festival another chance. I’m glad I did, because this was without a doubt the best festival I’ve ever been to. Yes, the lineup was great and all that, but they also had free water. That’s right folks, FREE WATER. Anyone who whinged about the vendors selling water for $5 a bottle clearly likes complaining more than being hydrated.
Since Closure In Moscow were unceremoniously kicked off the festival for being “ungrateful cunts” (the promoter’s words, not mine), Canadian psychobilly band The Creepshow were the first on the main stages, and I really enjoyed them.
Sunny Day Real Estate are a truly underappreciated band, and their 12:30 slot on the main stage did them no favours. Members of Paramore and Jimmy Eat World were watching and singing along sidestage, which was cute. They played all the songs I wanted to hear from “Diary” way too early in the set and droned their way though almost the entirety of their incredibly boring second album. No wonder bassist Nate Mendel left to join the Foo Fighters.
Food, Dippin’ Dots (best thing about summer festivals) and a bit of ISIS. The metal tent was actually really pleasant, and it was nice to be able to appreciate the atmospherics of ISIS in the shade.
My friends and I decided to get amongst it for Alexisonfire, which involved standing in the crowd for 45 minutes enduring Eagles of Death Metal’s set. I get that being a seedy sex fiend is Jesse Hughes’ schtick but after an entire set’s worth of banter, he was more of a creepy old uncle than a dirty sexy rocker. Next!
Alexis opened with “Drunks, Lovers, Sinners and Saints” and of course, the first person to faint was a ranga girl who hadn’t been keeping her fluid levels up. Once she went down, it was like quicksand - bodies pulled under by the fallen. Here’s a bit of mosh pit etiquette for young players: this is a crowd at a music festival, not a scrum in a game of rugby union! If someone falls down, help them up - don’t step on them!
Anyway, things got a bit hectic, so I crowd surfed my way over the barrier to safety. I lost my hat, copped a fist to the face and almost had the sneakers ripped from my feet, but nothing broke or bled, so I’m calling it a win.
As much as I’d like to pretend that I crowd surf my way to freedom on a regular basis, I was a bit shaken, so I watched the rest of Alexis’ set from the safety of the bar. It’s really not a festival unless you pay $9 for a midstrength can of beer.
Paramore pulled the biggest crowd of the day, and even with a fill-in guitarist were tight as all get-out. Their songs are so catchy and well-written and Hayley Williams is one of, if not the best front-woman our generation has produced. Anyone who can dance around in skin-tight pants and still sing like she does without being out of breath or missing notes gets my respect. They played all the hits you’d expect (Misery Business, Decode, Ignorance, Brick By Boring Brick) and a few surprises (Pressure, Let The Flames Begin).
I’d seen Placebo during their Meds album tour in 2006, and had a sneaking suspicion their set would vary just enough to include shitty new material. I was right. Their new drummer couldn’t keep time with the backing track, sending the whole band out of whack. They weren’t engaged in what they were doing and are probably only still touring so they can pay their mortgages. I snuck off to a secret bar behind the grandstand that had lush grass and shade and just listened to the bulk of their set. Apparently they had videos, but really there’s only so much you can polish a turd.
AFI were just fantastic. Davey Havok has finally realised it’s possible to be masculine and flamboyant (something the frontmen in the bands either side of AFI figured out years ago) and their live show is all the better for it. Their set was made up of material from their most recent three albums and since I’m not one of those fans that has been there since day dot, I was pretty happy with that. They also showed Placebo how to play to a backing track.
Dave Navarro, I wish I still had my virginity so I could offer it to you. Jane’s Addiction were without a doubt the sexiest band on the lineup and when Dave busted out a solo… hoo boy. I got chills during “Three Days” (played far too early in the set in my opinion), and that was even before Perry Farrell bought the geisha girl dancers on stage.
Jimmy Eat World are a bunch of boring-looking white dudes singing ab
out feelings, but gosh, they do it well. Their Bleed American and Clarity albums were a constant soundtrack to my life in the later part of high school and my first love. The songs off the latest album were nothing special, but they made up for it by playing EP track “No Sensitivity” and ballads “Hear You Me” and “23”. I may or may not have shed several nostalgic tears during their set. That’s emo for you.
I wished I’d seen Glassjaw, Meshuggah and Anvil but there just weren’t enough hours in the day.
(Festival photo by Kristina McDonald, band photos by Kylie Keene, dodgy photos by yours truly.)
I was the only girl in the Mastodon mosh pit and I survived their entire two-hour set. Although I did need the help of a man to make sure I wasn’t crushed to death à la Jessica Michalik, this is a clear example that Girls Can Do Anything!!!!
I’m off to ice my bruised body.
The average singer-songwriter is self-obsessed, whiny and boring as bat shit. Consequently, even good ones can have trouble holding the attention of the audience.
This week I saw my friend Matthew play at Valley institution Rics, and saw his solution to this problem. He’d written each song in his set list on one side of a scrap of paper, with a small note about the song written on the reverse. All these little bits of paper were placed inside the Magical Blue Box of Awesomeness and Wonder, and members of the audience volunteered to open the box and randomly pick what the next song would be.
It totally worked. Even though the beer garden outside was full of loud, drunken bogans thanks to triva night at the pub next door, every patron in Rics was silent while Matthew was playing. Inviting the audience to participate in a way fosters a connection with the performer without involving too much effort from either party is the way to go.
Check out Matthew’s music at his MySpace.
“Twelve minutes of pure injury,” is how my best friend describes a set by her boyfriend’s band Downpour, the best (and only) hardcore band in Rockhampton. They’re launching their demo tonight and we’re here with forty others to drink impossibly cheap booze and show our support for “the scene”.
Tonight, “the scene” is located at The Cave Bar, a small room at the back of a dodgy pub in the town’s CBD, proudly advertising itself as a real pub due to its lack of gaming machines. At any rate, it is one of the few places in town with original live music.
In proper D.I.Y. style, the demo was recorded mostly live by a friend, then burnt onto stenciled CD-Rs and housed in paper slip cases, meticulously put together by the band’s guitarist. Half the band work as orderlies at the base hospital, folding linen and cleaning up bodily fluids. The bass player works at Target and the drummer works for the railways.
“You know,” my friend continues, “sometimes I think that fuckheads turn up to these shows just to punch the fuck out of people.”
She’s probably right. Maybe it’s the steamy weather, maybe it’s the town’s obvious class divides, but Rockhampton is an incredibly violent place. The latent anger bubbles to the surface in boozy punch ups, football games and road accidents, yet music seems to be the least socially acceptable outlet for testosterone-fuelled rage.
Downpour start their set and the crowd is a seething mass of swinging punches and pile-ons. Mic leads are broken, glasses are lost and smaller dudes are steamrolled. The less adventurous punters climb onto the bar rail for safety and a clearer view as the seven-foot-tall singer fights his way into the audience, shoving his equally gigantic and mega-drunk mate Big Will away as he gets up in his face.
“Somebody take Big Will down!” he shouts, grinning from ear to ear. “The man is a menace and needs to be stopped!”
They blast into the next song and the crowd clambers up and onto Big Will, forcing him to the ground. This is the sort of violence and aggression where nobody gets hurt, the sort of violence that is fun and constructive. It’s the same stuff that drives career women to the gym, jocks to the playing field and puppies to shred the valuables of their owners.
As soon as the band finishes playing, one of the gig’s organisers grabs the mic.
“OI! Some cunts have snuck in here without paying! It’s only five bucks you stingy fucks, fucking pay up and support the scene or otherwise gigs like this won’t keep happening.”
He turns off the mic and puts an iPod on through the PA, leaving band and punters alike scratching their heads. Money? Nah. Nobody’s in this for the money.
For more Downpour, here’s their MySpace and a video of their song “BWS”.
Live photos by Luke Wonnocott, all others by me.
Some guy and his baby at the all-ages Violent Soho show at The Hive in Brisbane.
I mostly love what I do for a living, but sometimes it’s nice to see music played passionately for a crowd who is there to listen and enjoy - no cover charges, no guarantees, no ABNs, no riders, no drunks, no scene sluzzas or groupies. I spent all of this week glued to a computer and dealing with the business of music, so I was keen for a Saturday full of gigs that fulfilled the above requirements.
First though, I had Starving Kids’ fifth birthday party at X & Y Bar on Friday night. Talented bands played at their best, lots of interesting conversations were had and I got amongst this:
I was not loving life on Saturday morning but after a coffee, some brekky and a Powerade I was back in the game.
First stop was Via Studios in Bowen Hills - a run-down rehearsal studio in an industrial area close to the city. I was there to see my friends play in their bands - Willows (post-rock) and Light Sleeper (melodic punk), with The Here and The Elsewhere (loud noises) opening.
Gigs at Via Studios are a pretty casual affair. 35+ people including the band cram into the biggest rehearsal room and the last person in shuts the door and turns on the airconditioning. Some people were drinking beers, others were drinking coffee but everyone was just there to chill out and have a good time.
After a quick coffee break (I am a slave to my addictions), it was off to Blackstar Coffee in West End to see my friend Matt play solo and check out Spring Skier, the side project of Remy from my favourite Brisbane band The Paper and The Plane and Kane from Hungry Kids of Hungary.
Blackstar began as a simple stall at the weekly markets in West End, selling fair trade coffee. Their popularity grew, so they made a few renovations to their warehouse and turned it into a cafe. Musicians play there every Saturday night and split whatever gets put into the donations tin between them.
I really hate going to big venues to unknown acts - it was nice to see music in venues encouraging music - not making money. It’s a beautiful thing.
