The
Adelaide music scene: to many of you it may be little more
than a touring speed bump between Melbourne and Perth but
to us it's a way of life. Feast within on all its dysfunctioning
splendour as we bring you the highly satirical, laughingly
fictional and intellectually imbecile tales from our rock
& roll wasteland...
THE FINISHING SCHOOL + THE BAKER SUITE "THE HOPEFUL CHORUS LINE" LAUNCH @ JIVE / Saturday May 29th 2010
Brrrr FUCKING HELL is it freezing cold out here tonight! Yeah I know it's a bit lame to talk about the weather like this but it's hard to miss it when it's nipping at your heels. Sheeiiit! I'm like Marcel Marceau impersonating a tree here, I'm like a dead cockroach, like a decrepit old man hobbling my way inch by inch towards Jive. It's been raining all day too, did you know that? oh of course you do! you heard it all day now didn't you, that soothing pitter patter? I think I stepped in a puddle at some point and now my foot's gone numb.. that was half an hour ago on my way to the bus stop. I hope they don't have to amputate it, it keeps dragging behind me like a ball and chain! I'm reaching for my phone now, must be set on vibrate.. nope just me shivvering my arse off again. Damnit, that's the third time that's happened too! Oh I bet you're laughing now HA HA HA because ONLY A CRAZY PERSON would ever leave the house on a night like this, riiight? Oh you've got it all sussed out haven't you, you resourceful little squirrel you! Crackling wood fire, or maybe it's a gas heater, or an electric blanket, or you've got your head stuck in the oven, or maybe it's just your significant other farting in your general direction with a tricked out lighter? And you're buried under a thousand blankets, a doona and maybe even a snuggie too? huddled with all your pets like it's a BBC documentary: you're the communal carcass, they're the pride of lions nuzzling? 2/3rds of your way through a bottle of wine, or a bag of goon? watching Man Vs Wild, he's stuck in the Sahara and you can feel that scorching sun like a lizard basking on a flat rock!? Oh you must be sooo snug in your home theatre huh? in your bomb shelter, your climate controlled cocoon.. but I don't envy you! OOOH HELL NO, not even for a minute! My testes may have shrunk like tic tacs up into my abdomen, I may be stumbling down the street like I'm kung fu fighting an invisible enemy, but I KNOW I'm onto a good thing here! Because tonight I get to tell YOU what you missed out on! YEAAAS!! Because tonight at Jive we've got our own thing cooking.. JUST YOU WAIT AND SEE!!
THE BAKER SUITE (***1/2) myspace :: Yup that was one epic journey and a half lemme tell you! I mean suuure I might've just been exaggerating a teeny tiny bit in the teaser for "dramatic effect" (pfft NOOOO!!) but it was nuts out there maaan! I lost three of the four Sherpas I was teamed with (and then I had to eat the last one for fuel.. aaaah you know how it is) but now that I've finally made it? oh it was SO worth the effort! it's so toasty warm in here tonight I wish I brought marshmallows and a pair of welding goggles, it's freaking awesome! And then there's the crowd, welcoming in their presence. They're weirdly "weather appropriate" for one: decked out in a muted colour palette of woollen scarves, beanies, gloves, jumpers and cardigans. Secondly they're more comfortably suburbanite (perhaps they live out in the hills?) more sedate, less fashionably flighty: the sort you see at a country wine tastings, exhibition openings, book signings or amateur theatre productions politely applauding at the back. Obviously they're an older demographic, especially in how they're chatting away just now: "wow I haven't felt carpet floors THIS sticky since the Arkaba!", in how they cradle their drinks like they're a finite resource (and less like they're putting out a raging fire). Clearly I don't recognise any of them personally, as obviously I'm a borderline "brain malfunction" prone to howling at the moon and pissing up trees (if that aint bleedingly apparent from the freaks I like to hang with), but the fact we're both here for the same reason is a wondrous thing. The Baker Suite, formerly The John Baker Duo are a weather beaten duo but endearingly so. Featuring John Baker on guitar and Gayle Buckby on accordian they're like a lighthouse in a storm beckoning us to safe harbour. Or a little like Simon & Garfunkle, Iron & Wine, Leonard Cohen, Paul Kelly, John Taylor and Beirut. Or in other words simply picture the general warm "fuzzy" feeling you get from The Garden State soundtrack and that's pretty much the ballpark we're talking here. Songs are world weary in weight, bittersweet, slightly sea shanty in delivery and they have all the time in the world to paint their picture in slow sweeping brushstrokes. A lot of them seem to be about escaping the "mad hustle and bustle" of the rat race and the city centre for simpler times, they even have one dedicated to "escaping from The Exeter" like it's a horror story to spend a night in there (yup had to laugh at that one). John's voice has a measured husky feel to it, rich like honeycomb, or like a fine malt whiskey. Gayle channels a slightly French provincial feel in the slow ebb and flow of her accordian. All in all it'd be great music to host a dinner party to, crack open a bottle of wine to, or sit on a porch and watch the sun set.. and obviously it's really not the thing I'd usually be into, but on a night like this where it's whistling hollow outside it does wonders to warm up a crowd; so much so you could mime rubbing your hands and hold them towards the stage like it's an open fire and STILL feel the colour return. Yup that's the Baker Suite. Quite like the name suggests they're like freshly baked bread: all you need is the pumpkin soup to go with it and duuude you're all set!
THE FINISHING SCHOOL (****1/2) myspace :: Which brings us to our headlining act and the main reason I've dragged myself out of the house tonight short of the fact I'm a raging alcoholic for this shit (well pfft obviously, it's an album launch duuude! where the fuck else would I be!?) but not without its fair share of tough "negotiation" behind the scenes to make it all happen. You see originally they were scheduled to play on Friday night: the same Friday night Fire! Santa Rosa, Fire! were scheduled to launch THEIR album at Rocket Bar, the same Friday night Wolf & Cub were set to play at The Ed Castle, and the same Friday night countless other shows were happening next to everywhere else that I would've totally gone to if they WEREN'T up against Fire! Santa Rosa, Fire! and Wolf & Cub. Or in other words? HA HA HA good luck with THAT you idiots! But being the raging suckers for punishment that The Finishing School are, they STILL did their utmost to convince me otherwise. I mean it's as if they've never read an episode of this blog.. "DON'T YOU KNOW I BREAK UP BANDS, I'M PURE FREAKING EVIL DAMNIT!!". But nope, their lead singer Emily Combe simply kept asking me again and again (till it almost got to be annoying in how freaking nice she was being about it.. GUH!!) till I almost entertained (then dismissed) the notion of sprinting between Rocket Bar, Jive and The Ed Castle to make it all happen. But then after much fierce to and froing, being the badass "uber blogger" that I am (I know I can't take that shit seriously either) we finally came to an agreement and they shifted their whole production to Saturday night instead.. YEAAAS!! (as clearly it had nothing to do with the guy who produced their album: Matt Hills also being unavailable on the night *ahem*) AND SO HERE WE ARE!! And I tell you what, I'm so glad that they did it too because The Finishing School truly know how to warm up a venue in style on a cold winter's night. Firstly they've fronted up in their formal finest, which helps their namesake to no end. Secondly they've brought in some extra members to fill out the stage: Kym Worley on cello, Beth Christian and Alice Combe (Emily's sister) on backup vocals (and they're no slouches either). Thirdly they lead into the show with a screening of their new film clip for "Childhood Witch". And then they launch into their set proper, and what a slinky smooth sound it is too! In description think of the following: Jeff Buckley's "Grace" album, U2's "One", Radiohead's "The Bends", Angus & Julia Stone, maybe even a bit of Norah Jones. Which makes them far from cutting edge "indie" in approach (at least by the scenster elitist Pitchfork recommendations we're usually familiar with) but more "adult contemporary": more jazzy in style, or something you'd expect to play at a wine & cheese festival but never in a bad way. I mean what strikes me the most about this band is that they all seem to be classically trained. From Emily Combe on violin and vocals: holding her own like a fiesty flamenco dancer in miniature; to her brother Thom on guitar and vocals, eerily ethereal in the shadows: with a serene singing voice you could damn near solve a Middle East peace crisis with (even if most of the songs they both sing are extensively about failed relationships.. HA!); to Lyndon Gray and Andrew Gaborit on bass and drums, capably filling out the rhythm section like they're "slumming it" in between shows at a 1920's speakeasy; they're consummate professionals. Most of their setlist is mirrored from the album in order of appearances, short of a few classics: the most memorable of which a seven minute rendition of "Good Luck" that just about floors everyone in the room (short of one hilarious drunk who attempts to "slow breakdance" to it). They play two subsequent encores, but we could easily have wanted more. I mean what can I say duuude, The Finishing School are a quality act through and through. Just like smoking a fine cigar, savouring a fine wine or a premium blend coffee and living the high life rarely seen outside of a James Bond movie? Yup, surely too much of it would be deadly but in the right doses like this, they're just the cure for anyone's ills!
12:12AM - Yup it's been a classy night here at Jive tonight, probably the classiest damn night I've had all year. No shit! I infinitely feel that much more cultured, sophisticated and postgraduate educated and not the least bit intoxicated by any of the beers that I may have been drinking in the experience of it: every epitome the Frank Sinatra stuffed in the ill fitting belching body of an orangutan.. OOOOH YEAH!! But I'm also well aware that this might be an isolated incident. As despite it being ridiculously cold tonight, despite all the rain falling throughout the day, this city is alive and thriving with feral freaks of every illbient persuasion and I know this fact because one of them has been posting me updates all night. Yup we're talking gratuitous binge drinking, friends I know (who I dare not name) being mysteriously dragged off by 3-4 police officers, getting refused entry into The Casino, etc etc.. all of it disseminated through text messaging. And yes I couldn't help but piss myself laughing at it too, if it weren't for the fact that we'd likely cross paths at some point in the future. Either way with Jive slowly filling up with people for yet another installment of "Gosh", predictably twice as many as for the show before, I figured it'd be best if I moved on. And so after downing a few more "beers for the road" (anti-freeze I tells ya!) it's out the door again.
2:20AM - Now I don't know about YOU but I'm a mad fan for the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, pretty much ever since "Fever To Tell": one who ironically enough has never seen a single live show of theirs but still has all the albums, EPs and even sourced down a shit load of rare b-sides and remixes as well (seriously that song of theirs "Art Star" off the first EP is the maddest shit ever). But when it comes to their drummer doing a DJ set? yeaaah you didn't really miss much. It was pretty much him hunched over the bar side of the DJ booth, back to the crowd with an ipod, playing obscure as fuck underground hiphop; he even cleared the room a few times it was THAT wildly "exciting" to be around. And yes I would've loved to get photos of it regardless, except: (a) he'd probably think I'm some kind of fuck off paparazzi if I was blasting him in the face with the flash, (b) it's only a DJ set for fuck sake, (c) I was perhaps a teeny bit intimidated by the whole prospect. I did however "accidently" steal his cupcake. And no that's NOT a euphemism for "something else": it was an actual bona fide dark chocolate cupcake with a soft serve swirl of cream icing AND IT WAS THE BEST SHIT EVER!! And yes I kinda wish I got a photo of THAT too, except I was mostly paranoid I'd get caught out with it (it was pretty spur of the moment decision on my part). So instead here's Matt Minucci and Dave Mazzarelli from Lyla playing their DJ set a whole half hour later. Yup, not only was Brian Chase DJing a total non event, it was an all too BRIEF non event too. Awesome huh?
2:22AM - And as for Lyla's? I mean shit duuude what WASN'T to like about it!? Anyone who spins Eagles Of Death Metal, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club AND The Chemical Brothers in the same set easily gets my vote. And I'm not just saying that because we're getting hilariously and hideously shitfaced at the time.. isn't that right Sammy Bruno skolling from a jug of beer? YOU BETCHA!!
3:20AM - Which is clearly unrelated to THIS "award winning" photo we took an hour later, pissing ourselves laughing in the beer garden: because not only did we find all those shitcrazy bracelets Stefan "Blobby" Krcmarov had on his wrist to be five kinds of fuck off hilarious, but we were also dumbfounded and amazed by his kung fu ability to block Mathias Northway's face with them from every conceivable angle we tried to shoot it from. Brian Chase? pfft what Brian Chase!? I bet half the peeps in this beer garden didn't even know he was here! Aaaah FUCK I love The Ed Castle!
3:28AM - Yup, it's probably obvious to everyone by now that we've drunk nearly enough alcohol to be utterly "impervious" to any extremes in temperature but hopefully nowhere near enough to lose our grip on gravity (it's a thin line, believe me!). And so to celebrate that "fact" we figured we'd hit Supermild and KEEP on drinking, in the hopes none of us would make it at all ironic by falling down a flight of stairs along the way (HA HA HA HA but how funny would it be if we did!?).
4:12AM - Upon arrival, at first I was a little surprised that there was actually anyone left in here on a freezing night like this. But more so that the bouncer upstairs had actually let half of them in considering just how blitheringly shitfaced they were; completely unrelated to Kyle here of course who's nothing less than a sober and "upstanding individual" (no really he could totally babysit your kids and everything!) but more so "all the usual suspects" that I'd been receiving updates on since I was back at Jive (cheers Simone!) who are now blissfully passed out cold both out in the beer garden and by the dancefloor (I mean really how the fuck!?). And as much as I could've taken photos of either of them for.. you know, blackmail purposes? I seriously couldn't be arsed tonight. But if you're really feeling like your missing out here, don't worry I practically have a gallery devoted to it on facebook now. Heeey maybe I could host my own exhibition sometime? YES!?
And so here we are at the end of the night living it up to the fullest, while you were home curled up in foetal position under all your clothes, blankets, pillows, pets and pink bat insulation STILL shivering your arse off after setting fire to all of your furniture and electrical equipment. Yeaaah who's the envious one now huh? Don't you wish you could've been HERE at Supermild with us? I mean just look at Kyle and Simone here, don't they look ever so cozy huddling for warmth.. in a way that DOESN'T imply Simone would rather squirm the fuck away at the nearest instance and beat Kyle to death with the nearest bar stool screaming hysterically lest he get any closer? Awww I know, you could almost make it a Christmas card couldn't you? SEASON'S GREETINGS EVERYONE!!
Yup, it may've been waaay too murderously cold tonight, or maybe it wasn't and I'm simply taking the piss (because clearly I've never done THAT before and I'm nothing but dead serious in everything that I write.. HA!!) either way with a scene THIS hilariously dysfunctional often I simply have no choice but to seek it no matter what; there's simply way too much to see and do! You may need to find some shoes, find an outfit, find some friends, scrounge enough cash for piss, catch a bus.. maybe two to get here (only to realise it's going to cost you another $50 in taxi fare to get home again because our urban sprawl is fucking ridiculous and we don't have enough late night public transport to support it) but once you DO? it's well worth it duuude (and fuck it you can always split a cab). Excuses are just excuses, warmth is only a state of mind, easily fooled into being after 5-6 drinks. It's barely even winter yet, it's only gonna get colder from here on in but that don't matter where WE'RE going: for going out is just another night "indoors" you haven't tried yet!
FIRE! SANTA ROSA, FIRE! + DEEP SEA PARADE + WOLF & CUB ALBUM LAUNCH PARTY @ ROCKET BAR + THE ED CASTLE / Friday May 28th 2010
Sooo.. good things I can say about Rocket Bar? think brain THINK!! Well for starters they've hosted their fair share of fuck off awesome touring acts, easily the envy of any live venue: with everyone from Ladyhawke, Midnight Juggernauts, My Disco, Mountains In The Sky, Dungen, Damo Suzuki, Wolf & Cub, Young & Restless, Lost Valentinos, Teenagersintokyo, Children Collide to Cut Off Your Hands.. aaand what about in the past year or so? yeaaah *cough* maybe not so much. But hey, they still have plenty of legendary launch parties here riiight!? (don't mention Jupiter Lead, DON'T MENTION JUPITER LEAD!!). Errr okaaay, well what about their shit hot "state of the art" sound system and lighting then!? ooops I'm SO sorry I brought that up too (wait and is that crying I can hear? duuude!). Or what about "Kassandra" their adorably batshit insane bartender? I mean c'mon who DIDN'T love her to bits!? except she quit a whole YEAAAR AGO? awww maaan! Well what about all those free doughnuts they used to have by the bar? not since 2007? Or their pool table out back? ditto? or all their reading lamps rich in radiance and romanticism!? GUH!! But hey they've still got Mark Mitchell and Curtis Leaver spinning dopearse tunes on the decks riiight? tell me at least they have THAT going for them? not since 2008!? AWWW SHIT YOU ARSEHOLES!! What happened Rocket Bar? You used to be cool, you used to be our home away from home, our sweet Shangri-La amongst the stars, oh how we used to WEEP FOR JOY to be in your presence! AND YOU PISSED IT ALL AWAY!? Fuuuck, I can't even look you in the eye anymore! I gave up trying nine months ago, our relationship's failed me on every fundamental level, EVERY FUNDAMENTAL LEVEL!! You're what I half imagine HELL to be like, not figuratively but ACTUALLY IN SOUL SUCKING DESPAIR! You're a nightmare, a cautionary tale! To think of all the grief I've given The Ed Castle fearing YOUR evil influence might spread to it like a virus!? FUUUCK OFF!! And yet, against all my better judgement I'm back again tonight? WHY!? well shit duuude, why else? FIRE! SANTA ROSA FUCKING, FIRE! Yup, they thought it'd be "wistfully sentimental" (read: downright suicidal) to throw a launch party here for their debut album "Sea Priest", and me being the "sucker for punishment" that I am? I happily accepted!? "DAMN YOU!! DAAAMN YOU ALL TO HELL!!".. oh wait, we're already here and it's called "Rocket Bar"? Yup, abandon all hope ye who enter here, this is going to be one fucked up night!
9:21PM - Aaaah but silly me, before I can even THINK to enter Rocket Bar tonight I have to lineup outside for another half hour!? Oh maaan how I don't miss THIS! They really are into "cruel and unusual" aren't they? I mean for any OTHER live venue in Adelaide "doors at 9PM" actually means just that. You'll get to walk in at 9PM, load up on beers and the first band will appear at say 9:30PM to 9:45PM. With Rocket Bar however this means arriving at 9PM, only to discover it's not even open yet, only to wait anywhere from half an hour to an hour IN THE RAIN with little or no hint that anything will actually happen. And if you then figure "okaaay, next time I'll simply arrive at 10PM"? suuure that'll work most of the time, until they randomly throw in first band at 9:15PM, when it's usually more like 10:30PM. ARSEHOLES!! And yes granted I CAN appreciate the "infallible logic" here. Having a long lineup outside DOES make your shit look infinitely more "exclusive" than it really is. While keeping you in a constant state of doubt also means you'll get here early every time to guarentee there's always a lineup. But it doesn't make it any less annoying. Worse still? between 9PM and 10PM is also when they like to have their happy hour!? AWWW FUCKING HELL!!
9:37PM - Still eventually I do manage to get past the door.. thank fuck! and for the record the doorstaff here are wonderfully patient and courteous in facilitating this transfer and I rarely have a bad thing to say about them (remember employees only work at a "MacDonalds", they don't necessarily represent its image) only to ascend three flights of stairs to discover THIS? "WHOAAA FUCK, THEY DID WHAT NOW!?". Yup turns out they've been redecorating in my absence (and might I add for the first time in FOUR YEARS!? duuude!). And as much as I was expecting the worst here, because YES I'd heard rumours (or as someone who shall remain nameless described it: "it looks like a fucking strip joint") I dare say I'm impressed! All their overhead air vents have been painted bright white, they've added wood panelling to all the pillars, thrown in some vertical slat detailing around the corners and those wood carved radial fan patterns over the bar are truly something else! It also appears they've replaced most of the furniture with bleachers: most notably behind the mixing desk which they're raised into three steps (which is a nice touch), they've partitioned off the front bar to create a sweet "secluded area" for the second bar and added lots of teeny tiny candles everywhere. Everything has a nice clean "minimal" feel to it, it's all so bright, shiny and new. I mean WOW! I can't help but be a little "excited". Maybe everything I said in the opener is totally uncalled for? maybe.. just maybe they've turned a new leaf!? YAY ROCKET BAR IS BACK!!
9:45PM - But then it hits me.. "hangon, THEY'VE REMOVED ALL THE FUCKING FURNITURE!?" (and we're talking all the couches and sofas too!? DAMNIT!!) not to mention all the landscape paintings and modern art sculptures that used to hang on the walls. Gone too are most of the little booths and hidden alcoves everyone used to love "cosying up in", especially behind the merch desk. They've also removed the last reading lamp they had by the bar (yeaaah you know the one? I was often fond of photographing it as an establishing shot!?) only to replace it with teeny tiny candles!? which I admit makes for a nice "secluded" feel, but it also makes the venue that much darker than it already was; so much so in fact (with the continuing GLARING lack of stage lighting) that the brightest illumination source in this entire venue save for behind the bar, the toilets and the ATM out back is from THE FUCKING CRAZYHORSE SIGN ACROSS THE ROAD!? WHAT THE FUCK!! I mean is anyone else detecting a disturbing "pattern" developing here? It's almost like, over the years, Rocket Bar has methodically and pathologically removed EVERYTHING we could ever identify with on any base human, emotional or tactile connection: from removing all the pot plants, lighting, furniture, fuckit ANY kind of reassuring sensory imput.. only to replace it with arse raping electro and drug abuse!? I mean Rocket Bar is not so much a strip joint now as the Big Brother house crossed with a crack den. And now? yup I'm all the more disturbed to be here than ever before!
HAWKS OF ALBA (****) myspace :: Still all (or some) of these thoughts are soon swept aside (including that niggling suspicion that they simply removed all the furniture to permanently increase their liquor license capacity.. you heartless bastards!) by the welcome appearance of our opening act. Oh maaan and am I SO glad to see these guys too.. well ok maybe not "see" necessarily but at least I can sense a few blurring shapes out there that match their vague description: as it appears impenetrable gloom scaling up to "red embers flickering in a blackout" is still the norm when it comes to Rocket Bar's laughable approximation of "stage lighting" (cue profuse swearing from the band photographer here trying to get ANYTHING in focus) one that if at all possible actually looks WORSE if you shoot it with a flash (cue even MORE profuse swearing) and wait where was I again? oh yeaaah in my very own personal idea of HELL! Still being the irrepressibly cheerful band that they are, it appears Hawks Of Alba have dressed for the "occassion". Their lead singer and bass player Sarah Masters has gone the Darth Vader outfit (not a t-shirt, it actually comes with its own cape!) that she apparently bought at an op shop for a mere $1.50.. SCORE!! Hannah Fairlamb on guitar has gone for an 80's fingerless glove, halloween skeleton, Karate Kid villain motif. While Aidan Moyse on drums has clearly "dropped the ball" by simply rocking as one of The Blues Brothers in suit and tie (HA!). And in their ridiculously upbeat way, they damn near upstage the 20th Century Graduates in being the happiest damn band on the planet to EVER to play the darkest, dingiest stage straight out of my worst nightmares (and yes Larissa that IS meant as a challenge!). I mean no shit, I could be hanging from my ankles in Abu Ghraib right now, having all sorts of unmentionable torture visited upon me and I'd still be beaming a thousand watt grin to this band.. they're THAT ridiculously vitamin C potent! Some of it is obviously thanks to Sarah Masters "chipmunk" charm: between songs she's the one giggling in her teeny tiny voice ushering everyone in closer to the stage "or I'll use the force on you!". But first and foremost its in their infectious sound. Think early 90's indie pop at its best, think The Breeders mixed with I Heart Hiroshima and The Grates. It's also perfectly tweaked in both live mix and composition: with Aidan's apocalyptic drumming (quite possibly the best sounding kit in Adelaide in the way he tunes it to an inch) counterbalanced by Sarah's childlike cadence, snappy bass rhythms and bridged by Hannah's fuzz guitar (like a party in your ears and everyone's invited!). Most of the songs are familiar from previous sets and from regular Triple J airplay, from "Over Before It Ended", "Look What You've Become", "Nothing Inside" (watching Aidan pull that tandem drumming / glockenspiel schtick STILL kills me!) to "Invisible" (an old live favourite from their days as Running With Horses) as well as a new song they've cooked up for this show: "Cut You Out" that sounds altogether like something straight out of a Happy Days episode (and yes I mean that in a good way). I mean short of the fact they're playing in a shitdive like Rocket Bar: where all our hopes and dreams go to die, how could you possibly go wrong!? Hawks Of Alba. They're easily one of the shiniest new discoveries I've made this year, word is they're working on an EP, and if they don't go far? duuude there's just no hope left for the human race!
DEEP SEA ARCADE (***1/2) myspace :: Which brings us to our second act. They're from Sydney: a city that I dont doubt gets its fair share of life and colour, possibly the sound of children laughing.. or in other words everything that Rocket Bar is sorely lacking in to the point its bordering on a gross violation of The Geneva Convention. FUUUCK!! I mean how long do you think it'd be possible to survive this place, like some kinda Morgan Spurlock "Supersize Me" mad science experiment BEFORE it would actually kill you from all the sensory deprivation: 6-7 days tops? And after it DOES invariably claim your life and your mortal soul along with it, would you then be cursed to walk the earth like one of those Ringwraiths out of The Lord Of The Rings as surely it's the dark lord Sauron that commands this place!? (shit maybe he's the one who keeps sending me all those facebook event invites? duuude!). And speaking of "hilarious tangents" did you know that Harry Worth, the guitarist from Radio Spectacular!!! actually shattered his wrist from falling off the stage here late last year BECAUSE HE COULDN'T FUCKING SEE ANYTHING!? True story! I mean I wonder if Deep Sea Arcade were thinking all that shit when they walked on stage tonight.. yeaaah you were wondering when I'd get back to them weren't you? aaah yes Deep Sea Arcade, the band I'm meant to be reviewing! (and in the worst possible venue in Adelaide.. weee!). Yup, apparently they'll be touring in support of Fire! Santa Rosa, Fire! for the next week as they launch their album nationwide, and from first impressions here (short of the fact I can barely see my hand in front of my face) there is a lot to like about them if you dig that whole 60's "summer of love" schtick (and hey who wouldn't!?). In closest comparisons think of them as The Beatles at their most blissfully languid and psychedelic, think Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club, think "Strawberry Fields Forever" especially; but hey everyone else says that about them.. so into the mix throw everything from The Kinks, The Beach Boys, Primal Scream and The Stone Roses and you'd be much closer to the mark. Fronted by Nic Mckenzie: it's the rich nasal quality of his voice that initially pulls you in. Not so much in a piercing Billy Corgan/I want to stab myself repetitively in the eyesockets kind of way (I mean c'mon I can't be the only person who ever thinks that!?), but more so in a Liam Gallagher when he isn't being a total obnoxious twat kind of way.. and I swear it's the awesomest thing too! It's a voice that glides through all their songs like a majestic maple syrup, rounding out all the sharp edges (if there were any to begin with), and maybe even clearing out the sinuses of anyone standing in a fifteen metre radius, it's THAT damn smooth in delivery. The band around him are no less the rich blend in the instrumentation either, everything sorta swims in a languid haze of reverb and delay, weaving a dream world of sub tropical guitars, bouncy castle bass rhythms and hypnotic dub swing percussion; you can't help but lose yourself in a trance to it. The ONLY real problem I could see here is that overall all the songs tend to sound a lot alike, but maybe just that's my lack of familiarity more than anything else. For when they DO kick into their Triple J high rotation "Lonely In Your Arms" (conveniently the next song AFTER I took that live video, GUH DAMNIT!!) everyone's swaying about like a forest with glassy eyed grins, they can't get enough of it and I couldn't help but agree. Deep Sea Arcade. If it were at all possible for a live band to cure the common cold through sound alone? you'd be looking at one right now. And sure they may be no cure for Rocket Bar's ills tonight (duuude nothing less than a fucking exorcist would achieve that) but at least they're a damn good start!
FIRE! SANTA ROSA, FIRE! (***1/2) myspace :: Now before I dive into what hopefully WON'T be a live review that their manager Matt Hayward will be compelled to shit down my neckhole for writing, let's just recap on a few things that I think we can ALL agree on here. Firstly that their debut album "Sea Priest" is good, I mean really good, I mean RIDICULOUSLY good.. maybe even brilliant! Now obviously this isn't me writing an album review here. I mean suuure I've already listened to it twenty times over in the past 2-3 months (and no that's NO exaggeration.. I actually have!) and I do have plenty of glowing praise for it, but you needn't require my pissy affirmation to know that! Critics everywhere are going absolutely nuts for it, they even gave it 3.5/5 in RollingStone Magazine! So just go fucking buy it already, you'll love like you have a mental illness for it. It's just like Juanita Stein's kid sister singing to Interpol, it's fucking tops! (yeaaah just don't quote me on that). Secondly their single launch back in March for "Little Cowboys, Bad Hombres" was nothing short of mindblowingly triumphant, A TRIUMPH!! It was the single most head explodingly awesome "homecoming" show ever, people were weeping with joy over how flabbergastingly beautiful it was, it was THAT FUCKING GOOD!! Thirdly only an idiot ever launches an album at Rocket Bar.. there I said it! I mean I understand WHY they did it, I really do! It was the "sentimental" thing to do. They launched their first and second EPs here and they both went off like a fucking a-bomb! (and I should know, I was there.. they were awesome!). But that was Rocket Bar back in 2006-2007, and when we all heard about this idea in 2010? we laughed and laughed and we thought it was a joke but oooh no, they were being dead serious: "ROCKET BAR ALL THE WAY BABY!!". And admittedly we did go in with the best intentions tonight. We were a roaring crowd to cheer them on, we were an overwhelming feeling in awestruck pride for everything that they'd accomplished to get here and the band simply couldn't stop grinning ear to ear and thanking everyone for making this a night to remember. But maybe there was just too much pressure on them to follow through on stage, maybe that was just asking for trouble, but you could tell something was wrong from the get go; and for once I could hardly blame the lighting for it (as Matt Hayward did a masterful job with what is clearly an increasingly redundant setup). Nope pure and simple Fire! Santa Rosa, Fire! are MUCH TOO BIG for Rocket Bar, they're just too damn loud. Firstly you could hear it with Nathaniel Morse's guitar: it was like a fucking chainsaw. People around me were complaining that it was drowning out next to everything else around him. Most notably Caitlin Duff and Dave Williams on vocals who barely got a word in, only for the mics to feedback in their faces when they tried to "rectify the problem" by asking to crank up the foldback (picture Matt Hills at the mixing desk throwing his hands up in despair and you get where this is heading). And so a lot of their songs ended up a screaming dog's breakfast, an exploding mismatch of aggression and timing, I mean you couldn't even hear Artyom Zinoviev on keys: and for the first time ever you actually wondered WHY (awww I know.. the things you miss when they're gone huh!?). Still it's not a total disaster. The feelgood vibes from the crowd, the enthusiasm of the band to deliver, and the spirit of the occassion went a long way to "salvage it". The quieter songs also shone through all the brighter: "Cold Star", "Dogma Don't" and "April/May" especially warmed us up all nice and toasty, instead of punching us repetitively in the face with a littany of abuse. And when they closed with a cover of Fleetwood Mac's "The Chain"? I swear there wasn't a dry eye left in the house! But overall it was a mixed bag, it was mess.. a glorious mess maybe, but I couldn't help feel that in all their yearning for "nostalgia" tonight that they made a big leap backwards and not forwards in playing here (especially after such a triumphant single launch at Jive). Fire! Santa Rosa, Fire! If ever there's a lesson to be learnt in all this: not only "can you never go home again" (especially not to Rocket Bar) but sometimes THAT'S A GOOD THING. Embrace the future duuudes, because we all know it's gonna be a whole lot brighter than this!
12:57AM - Yeaaah I know what you're all thinking.. that wasn't pretty was it? (and here's hoping a certain someone isn't reaching for a "roll of toilet paper" after he reads it.. yiiikes!) but it's all Rocket Bar's fault I swear! We come skipping hand in hand laughing and singing to this place and we leave as broken twisted shells of our former selves spreading misery and pain wherever we go, even into the very words on this page.. and I'm SO sorry you had to see all that! Fire! Santa Rosa, Fire! are my friends maaan, no more than that, they're like my family! (and I'm clearly the crazy uncle their parents warn them about) but this place is evil, PURE FREAKING EVIL!! Zeta even wrote a song about it once called "Put Your Finger In My Arse". Oestensibly it's a love song (obviously) but it's also explains in the simplest terms the vile power this place has to ruin the lives OF ALL THAT IT TOUCHES! I mean just look at these poor souls at each other's throats, throttling the life out of each other because, quite simply put, they've been trapped in this hell for so damn long (at least three hours now) that they've forgotten all their humanity.. the horror! OH THE HORROR!!
Yup, I couldn't tell you what I felt as moments later Lachlan James Wilson's still twitching body slumped to the floor all twisted and mangled in front of me. I didn't dare respond in word, gesture or even expression that would betray the bowel quaking fear within me, worried that I too wouldn't be next (or worse still, that I might have to use my camera for things never specified in the users manual to defend myself.. namely throwing it at Matt Hayward here and running for dear life). No instead, just like Dian Fossey taught us, I passively mirrored Matt's demented smile and his tentative thumbs up, I didn't make eye contact, I feigned interest in his DJ set (not at all disturbed by anything that he might have been playing) and I dare say I "enjoyed" every minute of it too. Before I finished that beer I was drinking to the last drop and shuffled ever so slowly, cautiously, towards that door.. RUN DAMNIT, RUN FER YA LIVES AND NEVER COME BACK AAAUAUAUGGHHH!!
1:05AM - *Phew* I don't know how but I made it: here gasping and wheezing by the stairwell, just like every other night I've ever spent at Rocket Bar as I take a moment to compose myself, burying all the horrors I've witnessed here tonight into the deepest darkest recesses of my soul (if it weren't for the fact I'd be dredging them all up again to write a blog about it). Oh maaan you wouldn't want to know how many times I've seriously entertained the notion of skipping the stairs entirely in my frantic escape, maybe even throwing one of the couches through the window facing Crazyhorse and leaping arse backwards through the breach (so THAT'S why they got rid of all the furniture!?) even to the point of calculating the exact number of seconds I'd need to count in before going completely limp so I wouldn't twist, sprain or break anything on impact with the ground below. But no.. I am human, I have a soul and YOU HAVE NOT DEFEATED ME THIS NIGHT!!
But alas in my victory dance I hestitated for far too long. Following me down the stairs soon after is one Art Zinoviev keyboardist for Fire! Santa Rosa, Fire! Initially I feared he might have aims to feast upon my brain, such is the corrupting force of this place to twist even the most gentle of souls into a murderous rampaging zombie beast of ill intent.. only to watch even more wide eyed in horror as Tom Krieg from The Battery Kids lunged at him from the shadows. I screamed like a little girl, throwing up my camera to protect me (the flash obviously went off purely by accident to capture this photo) and I ran, oh how I ran and I ran and I tripped and I fell down those stairs: a symphony of "snap crackle and pop" tumbling head over heel for Hindley Street. "FREEDOM! SWEET FREEDOM AT LAST, AAAAHAhAhAhaHAhAHAHA!!". Yeah I know, in hindsight I probably could have saved Art here, he IS afterall the most important and vital creative member of that band (no really, I'm dead serious!), I'm not proud of what I did to get out of there.. but I could only think for my own safety. Rocket Bar never EVER again! Not for your funk, your soul and hiphop, not for your endless Jupiter Lead parties, nor for your Shaolin Afronauts or your Transatlantics.. "wait, but I've heard really good things about that last band? maybe I could..?" NO DAMNIT, NEVER AGAIN!!
1:12AM - Putting aside all the eye gouging horrors of the past few hours (in ways that these words or images can barely express) I crawl palm over fist towards The Ed Castle like its nothing less than an oasis in the desert. Aaaah The Ed Castle, how could I ever have doubted you, sweet SWEET Ed Castle of my dreams! Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you, how much I love you, *sniff* damnit.. after all I've been through this night I'd damn near consummate our relationship right here on the spot *ahem* but now is not the time or the place, especially not after I wrote that joke about peeing on the walls last week. THEY'RE JUST JOKES PEOPLE.. sheeesh, I mean who ever takes what I write in this blog seriously? I mean just YOU try writing this shit every week for five years straight and THEN tell me I'm insane.. fuck damnit do I need a beer!
WOLF & CUB (*****) myspace :: After drowning all my sorrows by the bar: perhaps quite literally, head under one of the beer taps gargling before being shooed away by one of the barstaff (or perhaps not) I stumble blindly into the band room "utterly oblivious" to just what I might uncover (as clearly I didn't plan on this shit tonight, not even in the slightest.. OOOOH FUCK NO!!) only to slam smack bang into an hysterical shitstorm of people all shrieking and howling for Wolf & Cub. Yup it might have been impenetrably dark in here, maybe the darkest I'd ever seen in The Ed Castle, perhaps even darker still than the "harrowing hell hole" I just emerged from on Hindley Street (as I dare not speak its name again) but the mood was entirely different maaan.. it was one of joy, pure unadulterated joy! And I'm not even kidding, it lit up in the room in electromagnetic frequencies the eye couldn't even see, but you could feel it all the same.. YEAAAS!! It was plastered on all the faces around me, it was a beautiful thing to behold! Wide eyed grinning, enraptured by the explosion of rhythmical noise before them: Wolf & Cub were back home again, and they were greeted with open arms! Yup, it's been months since they played live, it's been almost a year by my reckoning since they played Adelaide, and as much as they've experienced their volatile ups and downs on a live stage in the past (and perhaps most infamously for the times I've made fun of them for it in this blog) tonight they were nothing less than a full force of nature, they were mad mischief makers to all our minds being blown like microwave popcorn! I mean I can barely hope to describe what it was like in here, I wasn't even planning on writing it up lest I spoil the moment by having to dissect WHY it was so freaking good. Suffice to say was a mad fucking buzz washing over us in waves, putting us all in a giddy trance that we never EVER wanted to leave! Watch as Joel Byrne on guitar and vocals flailed about like a demon possessed, like a kid on Christmas Day. Witness Patrick Saracino, a "surprise last minute" replacement for Thomas Mayhew on bass, caught up in the groove like it's nothing short of a religious experience (as clearly I didn't already know about this nine months in advance and feigned shock in seeing him tonight). While Joel "Thom Yorke Jnr" Carey and Marvin "The Martian" Hammond whipped everything into a frenzy around them with their tandem drumming. Or simply close your eyes and bug out to it like you're being shot with a taser.. there was truly nothing better! Everything came together beautifully, it was a sweet swirling chaos, a washing machine rinse-out catharsis, I barely took note of what the hell they were playing but in the briefest of sketches their setlist included: One To The Other, Seven Sevens, This Mess, Master, What Are They Running, Hearts and Steal Their Gold. Except for the most part they all just bled into each other (at least in the memory of it) a swirling witches brew with all of us getting high off the fumes. I mean what a show.. WHAT A FUCKING EXPERIENCE!! easily the best I've seen from them in three years! THREE YEARS!! Duuude if you missed out on this: your entire life is forfeit, hang your head in shame (and go see them next time). Wolf & Cub. There are no "second album" jokes here, there is no sophomore slump, just a room united as one.. aaaah what more could you want!?
3:47AM - Many hours hence we passed laughing and drinking in the beergarden, having the absolute time of our lives. I mean say what you will about this place: the endless catwalk parades of nazi fashionistas, the all but invisible band room hidden by a sonic wall of banging club DJs, the all too disturbing frequency in which you'll spot Josh Moore from The Touch doing something entirely stupid that will likely require years of extensive therapy to erase.. but it's really an awesome AWESOME place to be! I mean I don't say it often enough amongst all the snark, but it's true! From all those rollergirl posters and framed photos in the hallway, to the oddball "rock & roll hall of fame" in the band room (that inexplicably features three members of Fire! Santa Rosa, Fire!.. go figure?) to their newsletter/restaurant menu (seriously if ever you have dinner here in the next few months you've GOT to try the Bangers & Mash.. duuude mind explosion!), to the massive beergarden out back with ACTUAL greenery in it, fuck even the screaming pink walls! Even if you disagree with any of it on a base "aesthetic" or "philosophical" level, you've got to agree it has character! Which is what truly defines a venue: not street cred, scenster hype, or doing your utmost to attract all the windowlickers from Electric Circus downstairs with a place they can shoot heroin in, IT'S ALL ABOUT THE CHARACTER DAMNIT!! As for what any of this shit has to do with Will Spartalis here, recently deceased, taken out by his friends for one last "Weekend At Bernies" style adventure? pfft nothing at all.. and perhaps EVERYTHING!! (wait.. what was the question again?).
4:01AM - Moments later, after being questioned by the cops as to WHY I was photographing a dead person (what? why are you looking at me like that!? HE'S DEAD, PEOPLE.. sheesh show some respect!) I surfaced here at Supermild, and by no mean effort either. For not only was it already closing, but they'd already stopped serving at the bar too. And yet here I am, bluffing my way past the bouncer, the door charge, with both a stubbie of pale ale AND a long neck of sparkling within reach? FUCK YEAAAH!! And as much as I'd love to explain how I found myself in possession of both these items? yeaaah let's just say there's a damn good reason WHY I keep coming back to this place completely unrelated to the fact it's an undiagnosed mental illness. For the truth of the matter is I'm actually taking piano lessons here.. at 4AM on a Friday night!? yup, best believe!
4:17AM - Of course the truth of the matter is I don't just come here for the piano lessons, or for the long necks of beer, or for Ruby Chew: who I think we can all agree is a tourist attraction all in her own right (in fact she may even be proof that when the US navy conducted their "Philadelphia Experiment" back in the 1940's they not only managed to render the U.S.S. Eldridge invisible, but they also managed to teleport it more than sixty years into the future), no I come here for the people! Most of them (for all the whimsical anecdotes I could share) never end up in the pages of this blog, as most of them I never end up photographing: save for THESE two all too familiar freaks who almost always without fail turn up in this blog, simply because they're one of the chance few who actually run TOWARDS a camera and not away from it. Yup as much as they may make Supermild look like something straight out of a pretensious fashion magazine, they do make it just that little more classy to drink yourself comatose in.. no shit, they're good value in that way.
4:33AM - Speaking of such here's the infamous Griffy Griff. Ok I admit he's a bad example to the previous statement as he's hardly the classiest cat, or even knowledgeable of basic hygiene practices, but he DOES keep the most hilariously awesome collection of t-shirts. Of course he also runs an orbital weapons platform that hovers geostationary over the EDS building on North Terrace and spins some supremely dope oldskool hiphop tunes.. but really who needs to know all that? Oh and I have no freaking clue WHO the girl is, although I'm pretty sure I have a photo of her being giddily "gangraped" outside that trashy pizza joint opposite Jive over a month ago. Hmmm yup, apparently this is how I meet a LOT of people now. And yes it's as disturbing to ME as it is to you.
4:49AM - Of course at this point I foolishly figured I'd keep drinking with these people, even after Supermild finally threw us out on the street well AFTER closing. And so we went down the road, passing the traffic lights to.. well.. you know where (a place that obviously I dare not speak of by name). Better yet, instead of drinking by the front bar where all the pool tables and video screens are (televising some soccer game whatever-the-fuck most likely) we were sent scurrying to the bar around the OTHER SIDE that serves all their pokie patrons instead. It's here that I'd like to point out one of two things: not the little sign that says "WATER IS FREE. Service is $2.00", but to the smaller sign on the right that reads "TOASTED SANDWICHES Ham & Cheese $2.50". SCOOORE!!
4:57AM - And so here I am at a place I dare not mention: feet propped up on a chair, eating a toasted ham and cheese.. wondering out loud how a diabolical pokie shitdive like this one can provide so much MORE "creature comfort" than Rocket Bar. I mean really? that's even a mystery to me!? c'mon! even a fucking cardboard box, an alleyway dumpster, or Mickey D's on Hindley is preferable to that crack den now! And it's hilarious to think it only takes the smallest thing, like maybe here on a plate to make a difference too!? but believe me sometimes that's all you need!
Yup I've seen my fair share of shitdives play host to shows over the years. I've seen fucked up rooftop raves, alleyway gigs and open air festivals out in the sticks, everything from "hit and run" to "fly by night" in operation, I've even been to The Jolly Miller! But if there's one thing that saves all of them from ruin is that they're rich in character! A pub, club or live venue isn't just four walls and a ringing cash register. It isn't just a soul sucking blackhole to shoot drugs in. It's our home away from home maaan! It's a place of entertainment, amusement and wonder. It's a place where we can find people, drink with them, laugh ourselves stupid, and wake up the next day having absolutely no memory of ever meeting, only that we want to do it all again! And as for Rocket Bar? pfft who knows!? maybe it'll be good again, maybe I'll be back? BUT NOT FOR A LOOONG TIME!!
