One of those planes that lands on water… Yeah! You know what I’m talking about…

After an absence of around fifteen years, Custard arrived for an album launch gig in Melbourne a couple of years ago, and I wondered aloud, at the launch show for their new album last night, whether this might become a bi-yearly tradition.

‘That’s not a bad idea!’ said Glenn Thompson, overhearing me, and continuing, like a boy, asking his parents’ permission, ‘I’ll ask Dave if we can!’

Custard, with The Stress Of Leisure,
Northcote Social Club, Melbourne, October 14, 2017…

The Stress Of Leisure (who coincidentally supported ##Shonen Knife## a few weeks ago) had also come from Brisbane for the show. I generally like bands who wear uniforms, and found myself being drawn to the foot of the stage to watch The Streets Of Leisure play in their red scarves and t-shirts emblazoned with the word ‘product.’ Their songs made me think of how a Joy Division concept album about the internet would sound if they featured guest spots from the B-52s and Spod. The support slot was serving as an album lanch for this band too, though the lack of a merchandise table meant that I didn’t get to pick up their record. I would have based on the strength of the set.

It was right on 11pm when members of Custard carried their instruments onto the stage. David McCormack grabbed the microphone in what is now clearly his faux-awkward manner, and announced that it is very late to be starting a show. The predominantly older audience seem to laugh in agreement.

The last Custard show in Melbourne was heavy in new material, which, while I appreciated the preview of the new album, didn’t seem to excite a lot of the audience. This show proved to be much more of a ‘greatest hits’ set, opening with Hit Song, to an excited full house. But the highlights were hearing some of the songs from 2015’s Come Back, All Is Forgiven now that we’ve had a chance to get to know the songs. We Are The Parents and especially 1990’s were fun to revisit and hear again, though it would have been cool to have slotted in a quick If You Would Like To.

New songs like In The Grand Scheme Of Things and You Always Knew take cues from the alt-country flavour of Dave McCormack’s solo albums, though without the creepiness of The Truth About Love. Those people who used the new song 2000 Woman as their break to visit the bar might have regretted it, as they missed one of the rockier and catchier new songs of the set.

It was initially disappointing when Dave and Glenn swapped places for the Glenn Thompson-led section of the evening to hear him announce to the band ‘We won’t play Warren Road. No one will want to hear that.’ The substitute song, Contemporary Art, made up for the disappointment, with Glenn playful as he exhibited one of the highlights from the previous album. Pascal, from Stress Of Leisure was reintroduced to the stage to provide the retro-pop key backing to have us shaking it up to the catchy ‘I want my Communism back!’ chant of the new Police Cars.

After leaving the stage a few times – apparently to fix guitar issues – Matthew Strong was explained as ‘quitting the band… again…’ whilst Dave experimented with ‘all the vocal effects.’ A crowd-pleasing final part of the set covered hits, with an encore ending with Ringo, a surprisingly effective closer which had the floor moving.

Hopefully after the impressive set, the hint to the band will become a fact, and we’ll continue to get a new album and tour every couple of years.

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A propensity for verbosity…

With Opera Oblivia, Hellions released one of the finest albums of 2016. Full of orchestral as well as vocal flourishes, the album tackles complex musical territory. Similarly, if one pays attention to the lyrics, some heavy themes can be discerned: the challenges of maintaining artistic integrity against the expectations of commercialism, overcoming self-doubt, scandals within the Catholic church.

A brilliant album, incorrectly nominated for an Aria award for ‘Best Heavy Album,’ when it would have been more worthy of the overall ‘Best Album’ category, but how would it translate to the live stage?

Hellions, with Endless Heights and The Brave,
Corner Hotel, Melbourne, May 20, 2017…

I’d very much hoped to pick up a CD or perhaps a record from the merch stand after the show, but browsing before the support band, decided against buying anything auditory on the grounds that Hellions had taken the unconventional, if novel, step of selling their album in my least favourite music format – cassette. Luckily, my disappointment in not purchasing music was allayed by The Brave taking the stage.

An admirable audience moved from bar to stage to listen to the pleasantly mid-2000s punk club vibe that The Brave had brought. Combining that kind of jerky everyone-hit-now sound made famous by Slipknot with skillfully placed melodies, The Brave have enough talent to set themselves apart from the raft of similar bands. Their set demonstrated a broad aural range that put their album on my ‘to do’ list.

Whilst the venue wasn’t full yet, a lot of the audience appeared to have arrived early specifically to see Endless Heights. It was perhaps surprising, since they took a more straight-forward approach to rock music. The band performed with a playfulness and enthusiasm often lacking when seeing this type of music played live, where hardened stares usually prevail. With layers of driving guitar, these were songs for swaying, and though not well-matched to the sound of the headliner, still earned a much deserved warm reception from the crowd, though no louder than when Sam from Ocean Grove was invited to help for a song.

‘Are you going to be okay?’ asked a guy who moved next to me after the Corner curtains were closed for the headliners to set up. ‘It’s going to get pretty intense down here!’

Once the curtains were opened, any doubt about Opera Oblivia being unsuitable for the stage melted away through the gradual build – in both sound and stage lighting, which brightened with the music – to the final sing-along chorus of album, and set, opener 24.

Through the applause for the opener, the guy from earlier leaned in to shout in my ear. ‘Are you sure you want to stay here?’ he asked me. I asked what he meant. ‘It might get rough from here on in. I thought, at your age, you might not be able to take it.’

That was a first for me, but, I suppose, something I will have to deal with more frequently. Luckily, I’m experienced at this sort of thing, so moved closer to the stage, as a predictably heavier song followed. Nightliner Rhapsody exhibited Hellions’ incredible range, driving the audience from thrashing wildly, to swaying in unison, to a melodic mosh, all within the one song. It was a theme set to continue through the set, with the band clearly enjoying themselves as much as the audience, and particularly lead singer Dre Faivre, who never stopped bounding smiling around the stage.

Daring moments followed, with the instrumental and sample-laden outro of the heavy He Without Sin being a surprisingly effective inclusion, a feat that even the likes of Fightstar might struggle with in a live environment. The main set ended with Thresher, with the band thankfully returning for an encore which nicely bookended the album tour theme with Quality of Life and 25.

It isn’t often that a metal show sees the audience shouting words like ‘axiom’ and ‘cognitive dissonance’ at the stage, but Hellions made their complex and beautifully produced works brilliant in a live setting. The best album of last year could become one of the highlight shows of this year.

Trainspotting Live…

An addendum to the conditions of booking my tickets arrived via email on the day of the performance.  Like a film screening late at night on SBS in the 1990s, it boldly warned of nudity, coarse language, violence, sex, drug use and smoking contained within, as well as haze and strobe effects.

Less usually, it continued to warn ‘Please don’t wear your best clothing!’  It made me recall the scene with the bedsheets, and hope I wouldn’t be too close to what had been billed as an ‘immersive production’ of Trainspotting.

Trainspotting Live,
Fortyfive Downstairs, Melbourne, March 30, 2017…

When the live production of Trainspotting was first announced, a large pool of colleagues had expressed interest in attending, but the final group who made it to Fortyfive Downstairs was much smaller, with most citing concerns about high expectations when comparing the play to the novel or film version.  As a fan of both, I was excited to see another interpretation of the story.  In the lead up, I was surprised to learn that it was actually the play, originally performed shortly after the release of the novel, which inspired the film.

The production began in the lobby: once passing through the box office, tickets were exchanged for glow sticks, the lobby converted to a graffiti-laden laneway where bass beats pounded through the ‘warehouse’ we shuffled towards.  Each time the mix sank into the next banger, cheers rang out from both inside the warehouse and within the ranks of the patrons outside.  Rather than entering to take seats, we fell into a smokey, darkened room – a 1990s rave in full swing.  Immediately, cast members with thick Scottish accents accosted us, dancing clumps of patrons towards different sections of the space.  Certain traits of the characters began to become evident:  It must have been Begbie, sneering at the rave hits playing and snatching cans of beer from patron’s hands.  Was that Sick Boy, giggling with a pair of young female patrons he had effortlessly slotted himself between?  It was an impressive opening to the show, which built upon the immersion advertised which was to carry through the show – to varying degrees of success.

After playing the immersive nature of the production for laughs – and perhaps to get the audience used to the experience – familiar scenes started to unfold.  The infamous bedsheets scene was close to the opening, and just as unfortunate as I’d expected for those patrons in the midst of it, but just as tragically hilarious as one familiar with the novel or film might expect for everyone else.  On the other hand, scenes of domestic violence and drug-use took on a harrowing quality when viewed from within the scene as the audience were.

It was a peculiar choice, then, after drawing the audience into a feeling of powerless intimacy with the characters and their tragedies to include surreal, dream-like scenes and lengthy monologues which tended to break that rapport.  After the first act, it became difficult to switch between the two ‘modes’ of the production, and hearing characters give voice to what we could already see acted out on stage only tended to lessen the impact.

Still, it was a production that had moments that worked perfectly, and were literally worth writing home about.  As much as I tried to detach myself from my love of the film and book, I couldn’t help but await moments from each – some which I loved the interpretation of, some which I thought could have benefited from being played differently, and some which I was surprised were absent.  But, as in my discussion in the lead up, it was most interesting to see what playwright Harry Gibson took from Irvine Welsh’s text, even those choices which were surprising.  Although Trainspotting Live was at times uncomfortable, and not for the reasons intended, when it gets its tone right it excels and should be experienced for those moments.

Trainspotting Live is playing at Fortyfive Downstairs in Melbourne until April 13, and at Brisbane Powerhouse from April 19 to 22.

Armored Dawn sampler…

Armored Dawn – Power Of Warrior Sampler

It was a pleasant surprise to feel something preventing this week’s Beat magazine from folding down the centre.  I shook the paper lightly and caught the CD which slipped out.  How novel.  It has been a while since a promo record has made it’s way into an issue.  From its cardboard sleeve, the CD looked distinctively heavy metal, thought I didn’t recognise the artist, Armored Dawn.

Although previously a common occurence, it has been a long time since a promo CD fell from the pages of a streetpress in this town.  Years ago, we would find Off The Record’s Jack, Jill and Coke compilations, amongst others, every few months, and Vice would offer their choice of music at least annually.  Now, I wonder, will children wonder at the free CD?  Will they take it as a look at something old-timey?

A post-listen glimpse at the website printed on the CD showed an elaborate page printed in Portuguese.  Further research reveals that Armored Dawn is the new moniker of a long-running musical project formerly known as ‘Mad Old Lady.’  The standard pub-metal-made-it cover photo belied the contents of the sampler – quality orchestral prog.

Opening with what feels like a harpsichord cover of the opening to Irene Cara’s Flashdance… What A Feeling, we are soon hit with a slow choral rock the likes of which Styx would be proud.  The song is called King and introduces a Tom Waits-meets-Frank Zappa lead vocal cut with harmonius breaks.  The effect is cinematic, and easy to imagine pouring over a crowd swaying in time.

The record – a sample, of what I can tell, from an album called Power Of Warrior – fades to a classic-horror interlude leading to Viking Soul, a quicker, power guitar sing along which peaks to a catchy chorus.  William Fly reveals duelling guitars and a more traditional sing along that will feel familiar to Iron Maiden fans.  Closer Far Away mixes that formula with piano breaks to add some variety.

Following familiar icons from the band’s website to various social media channels showed these to be songs from the full Power Of Warrior album, and having heard the sample, it went instantly to my ‘To buy’ list.  Not only was finding these songs a pleasant surprise with the usual Wednesday streetpress, but I applaud Armored Dawn for giving readers a tangible sample.  I hope it pays off well for them, because the sample suggests they deserve it.

I’ve really been on a bender, and it shows…

My Chemical Romance’s The Black Parade was one of the albums I named as a Five Star Album, and as it celebrates its tenth anniversary, many are reflecting upon it as a highlight of the decade.  I would go one further and name it as a highlight of all time.  The accompanying tour was also reported to be a theatrical masterpiece, with the band posing as their own fictitious support act/frenemy ‘The Black Parade,’ before playing an extended greatest hits encore.  It was sadly a tour that never came to Australia (despite being advertised, a streetpress interview in the lead up saw Gerard Way asked about bringing ‘the whole Black Parade shebang to town with the disappointing reply, ‘We’re bringing a whole new shebang…’) but a tribute act decided to do it themself.

Teenagers,
Bang at Royal Melbourne Hotel, Melbourne, October 22, 2016…

As the band set up on stage, the audience discussed where they were when the album was released. ‘I was in grade 4!’ hollered a woman, as I realised, I had been at almost the same place for the album’s release as I was tonight.  Thursday night patrons were debating their preference between Next at Brown Alley or Goo at the Metro when the album was released, and songs from Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge were still popular at each.  A launch party with a ‘secret city location’ had been announced, and ended up being at Next – found by either word-of-mouth, educated guess, or the distinctive black blimp hovering above the club.

On stage tonight, members of Gossamer Pride, Hideaway, and other bands switched from setting up their equipment to standing with their backs to the audience.  They pulled on matching Black Parade uniform jackets to become Teenagers and started, in keeping with the album, the old-rock opening duo of The End and Dead!  The tribute band sounded good, and looked it too, in their uniforms and make up.  Rather than continuing with The Black Parade the group wove various hits from other records – mainly Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge – amongst the songs from the album of the day.  It was unexpected, and initially questionable – I’d hoped for the Black Parade tour we never had – but the extra songs mixed up the set from the predictable.

After the frontman explained that ‘It really hurts to sing this one,’ Cancer proved a set highlight, thought they were noticably skipping songs from the album.  The frantic sing-along of Mama was also popular.  Surprisingly, the tribute act’s namesake song, Teenagers worked very well as a live tune, despite being the weird low-point of the original album.

I’m not used to seeing tribute bands, but Teenagers, led by Bang regular Matt McKinnon, put on a true tribute and really respected their source material.  It would have been nice to have had a little of the group’s own flavour in, but perhaps that isn’t the point.  Maybe it was just wishful thinking based on the pedigree of the members, but this was nevertheless a fun night and a worthy anniversary party to one of the finest albums around.

 

That band with the comic books…

Coheed and Cambria’s gigs have always proven interesting.  On the one hand, the band have historically always sounded amazing.  On the other, their audiences have sometimes proven to be their undoing, insisting on inappropriately out-hardcoring each other as they slam out of time to the music.  How would tonight’s show at an apparently revamped HiFi Bar compare?

Coheed and Cambria, with Closure In Moscow,
Max Watt’s, Melbourne, May 6, 2016…

After a weird twelve months, including a seemingly-sudden change of ownership, weird name change, and flooding, it was my first look at an apparently renovated HiFi Bar.  First impressions were not promising, with a queue snaking along Swanston Street, surely for the first time since Prince’s first in, best dressed appearance.  Once inside, the alleged renovations were also not apparent, but that was unimportant – it appeared that Max Watt’s was keeping things business as usual for the HiFi Bar.  Familiar faces kept matters moving efficiently behind the bar so, despite the inexplicable entry queue, there was time for drinks before the opener took to the stage.

It was strange to think that I’ve never seen Closure In Moscow play before.  I am certain they have appeared on plenty of bills that I have been to, but never actually witnessed their performance.  They sounded like a cross between The Darkness and The Mars Volta, and the flamboyant frontman drew attention from the back of the room to the front immediately.  Vocally, he reminded me of Robert Harvey from the music, and visually he kept attention as he made use of the stage dressed in costume jewellery and a Grandma Yetta-style jacket. The group moved flawlessly between sprawling funk epics, hard rock and even spoken word interludes. After witnessing a bubbly closing number blending gospel, country and psych-rock tones that Rocket Science would be proud of, it seems more than worthwhile to see Closure In Moscow could do in one of their headline shows.

Rather than being introduced by a DJ, or opening boldly like they have in previous outings, Claudio Sanchez and Travis Stever entered the stage without ceremony, carrying acoustic guitars with them to the microphones front and centre to pose as their own support act with a demure rendition of Ghost.  It shifted the tone from the party-rock of Closure In Moscow’s set, but it was to only be temporary, as the ending strains lead into the opening of In Keeping Secrets Of Silent Earth: 3.  The rest of Coheed and Cambria appeared behind the singer and guitarist in time for the anticipatory build that would set the scene for the rest of the show.

The aforementioned super-mosh crew tried to slam their way to infamy at this early stage, but quickly fell out of the crowd as the majority kept up with the rhapsodic shifts fans can follow well.  (Surprisingly, it was the newest songs from the band’s current, poppy release Colour Before The Sun that brought them back to try their luck at inappropriately frantic moshing a couple of times later, rather than the heavy songs.)  The rest of us were left to join in for backing vocals in the dramatic return from the song’s false ending, and revel in swaying, jumping, and thrashing in perfect sync for the rest of the set.

The current release is a brilliant, yet different venture for the band, but more straight-forward highlights from Colour Before The Sun like Island, Eraser and especially Here To Mars fit perfectly within the progressive staples like No World For Tomorrow and Sentry The Defiant.  Throughout the set, it seemed like the band were enjoying themselves immensely on stage, not afraid to dance along and behave in other decidedly non-metal ways.  Likewise, the sold out crowd showed their appreciate for the duration, with no lulls in the movement and singing from the moment the group took to the stage to the end.

Once the applause died down at the end of the main set, the usual Australian audience chant of ‘One more song!’ was pleasantly absent, replaced tonight by a spontaneous rendition of the choral refrain from In Keeping Secrets…  When Claudio lead his band back to the stage for an encore, he seemed thrilled with the show of support, and after replying with his cry, requested the audience share the experience via social media to make it a trend.

‘What?’ he asked the pockets of laughter in the audience at the request.  ‘Should I be worried about being too corny?  We’re already that band with the comic books.’

As though to prove his statement, Claudio took up a double-necked guitar to pluck the opening chords of Welcome Home, before striking every rock cliché pose through the course of the powerful closer.  It was the Coheed and Cambria gig we’ve been waiting for.

Spiderbait’s 25th Anniversary Show…

The last time I saw Spiderbait play live, at the Corner Hotel in 2014, the gig had sounded worryingly like a goodbye.  It had been a typically excellent show, though a much different one to the usual slam through classic songs, with sentimental intermissions between favourites detailing stories of the songs’ histories and significance to the town.  So it was reassuring to see Spiderbait returning for a 25th anniversary string of shows.

Spiderbait,
160 Russell, February 26, 2016…

Oddly, I made my own support act almost 30 kilometres away from the gig, where a group called Midnight Collective were performing a set outside the Park Hotel in Werribee.  I enjoyed their low-slung guitars and Good Charlotte-style sound, if Good Charlotte performed film themes.  It was well suited to the still-daylight summer evening setting, though I’m sure the band would have enjoyed more movement in the crowd than that of the small children boogying whilst parents sat in the background enjoying an opportunity to drink wine in public.  That said, the group would be likely to garner a similar dance floor patronage from a pub’s worth of grown-ups.  I didn’t think there was any need for them to put themselves down between songs, since they sounded good.

A train ride later at Billboard, I thought the same thing when I walked in to first support IV League also apologising for their performance.  Although I arrived late to their set, what I heard lived up to the praise I’ve heard for the band.  It took me a moment to realise that when the next band came out, it wasn’t the singer from IV League fronting Tired Lion.  Lit only by the kind of alternating flashes commonly seen in 90s grunge videos to match their sound, it was hard to tell them apart at first.  It was interesting to hear samples leading from one song to another, keeping those who arrived early involved – it also seemed to keep applause rolling through the set.  This is a group who use the stage and get the most out of their instruments, weaving modern sentiment into a Splendora-flavoured set.

Billboard’s sunken lounge room was crowded by the time the house lights were replaced with the glow of the screen backing the stage.  Cheers welcomed vintage footage of Spiderbait and the opening buzz of last album’s It’s Beautiful.  I detected the work of bass-weilding Janet in the Japanese-themed highlight reel celebrating the band’s quarter-century.

The drum exhibition of another recent song, Straight Through The Sun, opened the set to appreciation, if not familiarity.  The appreciation continued, and was joined by enthusiastic singing from the front row, when Janet took to the microphone for the first time for the first time for an Outta My Head bounce-along.  This was shaping up to what would be a decidedly rock show.  Though this meant we didn’t get to hear many of the electronic highlights from Spiderbait’s catalogue, the song selection was still a lot of fun and came with some surprises.  Relics from the past that were exhibited included Scenester and Jesus, which made me wonder what kind of shows I’d missed during the band’s early touring days when I was too young to get into the pubs advertised in the streetpress.  Long time fans were truly rewarded by the setlist.

Spiderbait’s signature hits were as popular as ever, with songs like Ol’ Man Sam and an extended Calypso proving that the band have plenty of material to please a party crowd.  With the response these songs received, I’m always surprised to hear the band continuing to end on their cover of Black Betty.  Original material was much more memorable, and could have left a more lasting impression.

That said, this was a gig that did leave an impression.  Like their last tour, this one featured the band spending time talking with the audience again, this time not shy with their gratitude having reached the 25 year milestone, and telling stories of songs and their long career.  This isn’t usually my thing, but some of the anecdotes were nice insights, and it was especially delightful to see the band’s devoted hidden member recognised and brought on stage for hugs and applause – manager and kindly recipient of my brother’s fanboy desperate communiqués, Fiona Duncan.

Unlike their last tour, this didn’t feel like goodbye.  This was a band enjoying their history but proving they still have a lot of life left.

All Is Forgiven…

Before Sunday night, everything had been so obvious. The plot my immediate future would follow felt certain: Triple J would announce their Hottest 100 poll, and I would make a shortlist of my favourite songs of the year.  As always, it would be an extensive list that I’d whittle down to the regulation ten for my vote, and, for once, I had already decided upon which song I would highlight as my particular favourite, should the need arise for a tie-breaker.  I have had a place allocated for that honour for A$AP Rocky’s Holy Ghost almost since the first time I heard it.

Then Custard released a new album, and they launched it for Melbourne on Sunday.  And they changed everything.

Custard, with The Zebras,
The Toff In Town, Melbourne, December 6, 2015…

Powerful, rock drumming is all good and well, and certainly has its place and appeal, but from early on, this was going to be a night for the smooth, chilled out drummer.  Hitting with such power, as Darren Hanlon once mused, that it makes other drummers cower is not the order of this evening.  This is a night for the humble rhythm-keeper making it look easy at the back of the stage.

The Zebras’ drummer set the scene, making keeping the beat look easy for the band’s sway-along pop.  It was an enjoyable collection of songs, well suited to a Sunday evening, but perhaps better suited to a Sunday evening on a roof-top bar in the summer air than as warm up for another band.

Some of the high-profile fans moved to the back of the Toff as the front of the stage filled.  Before long, Dave McCormack appeared on the same stage where years before he had played one of the best $10 gigs, clad in a cowboy’s fanciest shirt, and introduced the band in which he became famous.  The show started slowly, with Orchids In Water, from the band’s new album.  It may have been a surprising choice for the band’s first club gig in over a decade, but this was to very much be a set that showcased new songs, rather than reminiscing on old.  This may be something which proved a disappointment for many in the room hoping to relive highlights from album past, but for at least myself – and, apparently, the bald man frantically moshing at the front of stage from before the band even arrived – the new songs would prove inspiration enough to rush to the merch table to snap up a copy the second the encore finished.

This impulse was cemented when the band went a little more upbeat and really started their show for the second song, We Are The Parents.  Despite having heard the song only a couple of times before during its feature stint on Double J, live it was one I could enjoy, and at least hum along to by the end.

Subsequent classics like Pack Yr Suitcases and Pinball Lez were crowd pleasers, but it was further new tracks that really impressed me.  The aforementioned super-fan went into crazy mode the second Dave’s brief lecture on the risks of utilising Melbourne’s parking garages for late-night purposes evolved into what I would later recognise as the spoken-word introduction to If You Would Like To.  It was the perfect song to very briefly tear up the floor to, and the fan certainly did just that.

The highlight of the gig was a three-song stint where Dave and Glenn Thompson traded places, with Glenn showcasing his new song Contemporary Art, and ending with Music Is Crap, which, while never a particular favourite of mine, wound up being fantastic live in the intimate setting.  Girls Like That, while eagerly anticipated, played a little too close to the recorded version for my liking, but was great to dance to again.  The sing-along Anatomically Correct made up for it, with Apartment leaving the packed house suitably reeling for more in the encore.  Upon returning to Pluto, Dave made clear to the appreciative floor that they would be closing on Caboolture Speed Lab.  Rather than retreating back-stage, the band stepped forward to spend some time mingling with the room.  As mentioned previously, I headed straight over to buy my copy of the new album.

Custard – Come Back, All Is Forgiven

Rather than picking up exactly where Custard left off all those years ago with Loverama, Come Back, All Is Forgiven seems to meet at the half-way point between old Custard records and the country flavours of some of the solo work undertaken by David McCormack during the 16 years between the two Custard records.  Just like a good Custard album, though, this one charts various different styles and themes during its course.

That country flavour melts into the bold and rhapsodic single We Are The Parents (Our Parents Warned Us About), and really sets the tone of the album.  It is when the band try to tackle almost arena-style heights that this album is at its finest.  The trend continues into album highlight and basis for the record’s title 1990’s.  Opening like a chilled out Blondie collaborating with Duran Duran, the road-trip sing-along feels like, rather than fading out after 4 and a half minutes, it could have comfortably continued for at least a few more verses.

The guitar tracks are out to prove Custard can still do straight-forward guitar rock with the finest, with clever songs like Contemporary Art and Queensland University.  It balances the creepy ballads and pop tracks well, and makes us hope we won’t be waiting so long to see another Custard record make its way to our shelves.

And now, after that late entry, I need to reconsider my Hottest 100 voting…

Released on cassette to streamed online…

I remember once hearing a commercial radio broadcast during which the announcers were putting a listener to air.  The listener had been the night before to the first of many concerts being performed by some pop star and sponsored by the station.  The caller described how fantastic she had found the concert.  ‘She sounded just like the CD!’ the caller reviewed excitedly.

I also remember thinking that describing the singer as sounding just like the CD as a positive thing was backwards, because if one wanted to hear something sounding like a CD, one could stay at home and listen to the stereo.

They Might Be Giants,
The Forum, Melbourne, November 7, 2015…

Looking over a full Forum, John Flansburgh commented ‘Wow, this place is nice,’ to laughter from the dense crowd.  He kept it going by continuing.  ‘I’m not kidding.  We’re used to playing in some dumps.’

The show had started early, and a steady stream of patrons was still filing into the back of the venue several songs into the first set (tonight’s proceedings stylishly divided by an intermission.)  This was justified by what would turn out to be an extensive setlist, of at least 30 songs (and that is considering Fingertips to be a single song!)  Cheers accompanied the revelation of the accordion for Particle Man, and a cover of Destiny’s Child’s Bills, Bills, Bills is well-received.  They made the most of their stage-time to include as many songs as possible from a career described tonight as spanning albums released on cassette to songs streamed online.  They played to a backdrop of a live feed of tonight’s performance projected upside down, with none of the theatrics or Muppets of their previous visit to Melbourne.  The pure rock setup suited the band and the venue, though a solo accordion backing for Istanbul (Not Constantinople) gave the few moshing in the front row a change to breathe before the frantic first set closer of Fingertips.

Themed cocktails were served by the Forum’s bar during intermission, before the band re-emerged on stage, excitingly backed by Akira Ifukube’s score to Godzilla, for no comprehensible reason other than style.  This set had us dancing from the beginning with up-tempo tunes New York City and Ana Ng back-to-back, and followed by the new song Let Me Tell You About My Operation, which could have explained the queues to buy the new record from the merchandise stand after the show.  And there are surely very few bands who can prompt applause by introducing a song as being about historical politics, especially so many miles from their own and that political system’s home, but the build up to James K. Polk did just that, and continued the theme of jumping around.

But it was when the band really mixed up the sound that they outshone even their own live performances.  Songs from pre-concert wishlists appeared, but mixed up on the scene to take on a new life.  Highlights were a pop-punk take of Man, It’s So Loud In Here, and a rhapsodic Robot Parade, complete with scat breakdowns and audience participation.  The set could be presented to establish a case that only should one try to see They Might Be Giants live, but that all music fans should check out live music more often, just for the chance to see favourite songs in a way they never expected.

What we saw from the cheap seats…

There was a photo that one of the music majors took for their cover story on Mark Ronson.  I guess it was after the hype and play of the Version days, around when Record Collection was due for release.  In it, Mark was putting on a scowl, but it was obvious that he was trying to hide the laughter lurking behind it.  He was holding a trumpet which he’d broken, presumably across his knee, with the headline printed along with his name a quote on how he doesn’t want to work with trumpets again.  It is ironic, because during this tour, Ronson was at his best when flanked by his horn section.

Mark Ronson,
Margaret Court Arena, Melbourne, July 29, 2015…

This was my first visit to Margaret Court Arena (as I hadn’t been able to attend the Wombat’s Splendour Sideshow the previous night due to an engagement next door) and it is certainly a venue with pros and cons.  As a smaller concert venue than its older brother Rod Laver, it brings a surprising warmth and illusion of intimacy to the arena setting.  Upon arrival, staff recommended that patrons use the facilities outside the arena in the Melbourne Park precinct to avoid prophesied queues inside, with vague signage seeing me exit the restrooms onto a tennis court.  Sadly, we are not in the midst of the Australian Open, so hilarity did not ensue this time.  Inside the arena, I was greeted immediately by a long queue that did indeed snake its way around the outskirts of the venue that surely, I thought, could not be for the bathrooms?  I followed the queue in the direction of my door to find it ended in what appeared to be the only bar for the evening.  Hopefully this was the result of venue management misjudging the audience’s thirst on this occasion and choosing to open only one bar, and that there are actually other dedicated beverage facilities hidden away somewhere, otherwise this would constitute an unforgivable design flaw.

On the other hand, the hungry were well-catered to, with an assortment of food options to rival even those of the Araneta Coliseum. Event staff paced the expansive bar queue, deceptively recommending patrons order drinks from one of the dining venues. (Deceptive, as many did not serve liquor, and those which did seemed to only stock the house beer.)  Once I’d foolishly conquered the bar queue, I found my way to what could be Melbourne’s best wheelchair concert viewing area.

Pond played as main support, and played it well, producing catchy electro-rock sounds not dissimilar to those of Midnight Juggernauts.  It was an exciting set, which enforced the intimate feeling of the arena, and put the group on my list of bands to see again.

During the intermission after Pond, and elaborate band-stand style prop was revealed on a stage distressingly otherwise bare of instrumentation, and the staff at the main bar advised patrons that the beer had sold out.  The show opened in strange and underwhelming fashion.  The house lights were dimmed, but instead of any action on stage, the PA was turned up to play a Tamsin West’s closing theme to Round The Twist to a darkened venue.  After a moment of awkward silence the fake band-stand lit up with bright white, while a pair of rappers I couldn’t identify bounded onto stage to rap over a video of Mystikal singing Feel Right.  The emergence of Mark Ronson himself, atop the centre pillar of the illuminated band-stand, was peculiarly overshadowed by the bold karaoke lyrics projected behind the animated dancing of Mystikal on screen.

It was when feature singers started emerging to the stage that the show really kicked off, with The Bamboos’ Ella Thompson impressing on vocal duties for Bang Bang Bang, the early sing-along remaining the night’s highlight, though closely followed by The View’s Kyle Falconer shyly reprising his Bike Song vocals.  Business Intl songs stole the show from the current album selection.  The show came to life when Mark took to the stage from behind the props to take up his guitar, and Mark himself looked to be particularly enjoying jamming with Kirin J. Callinan.  It was a shame – though not a surprise, and understandable – to have Valerie played with an empty stage and Amy Winehouse’s piped vocals instead of utilising one of the many guest singers (Daniel Merriweather was, after all, featured only briefly and might have changed up another of the Version covers.)

These DJ shows are always a tricky thing to enliven, but Mark Ronson ended up doing well after a shaky start, though shouldn’t be afraid to feature more live instrumentation, because those moments were when this trip to Melbourne really shone.  After pronouncing his excitement at playing his first arena show tonight, it would seem he can pull it off, though I’ve no doubt he won’t have any problem returning to clubs either.