Writing

I'm currently writing up my review of last night's gig and enjoying reliving the night. The dancing floor was heaving to the Perth indie pop, with OAF packed to max capacity.

This cover of Fleetwood Mac was definitely a highlight of the night. A synth-infused dream.

Tomorrow it starts, I suppose

[Tim and Jean]

It was my last day of work today. It may be lame to admit, but I keen (almost anxious) to launder my uniform, just so I can officially ziplock it away for the next year.

I fly out on May 28th and won't be putting my nose back to grindstone until March 2012. That is if I find a job.

But I will be keeping busy with my freelance writing. In fact I'll be reviewing these native Perth boys tomorrow night and I'm pretty damn excited as I feel like dancing. I do, I do.

Cabins, belles, lanes, magnets and cairo

Cabins, Belles Will Ring, Lanie Lane, Magnetic Heads & The Cairos @ OAF, Saturday 19^th March.

Generally brand endorsed music events are just thinly veiled exercises in product pimping. However any apprehension I had of being bombarded by ads was quickly dispelled when I was greeted by OAF’s bare brick walls. Thankfully free of a potential barrage of Jim Beam posters. There wasn’t even an MC to hurry the bands along and enforce a strict timetable of proceedings. The merch was displayed on a bare trestle table, manned by various band members, making the vibe less corporate and more bootleg.

With five bands on the lineup the night started early. Too early it seemed, with only a smattering of punters showing up to watch Brisbane natives The Cairos. The near empty room didn’t deter the band from letting loose with an energetic set. Singer Alistar Richardson led the charge with his stellar vocal range evident in “Shane” and “Listening Party”, jumping from polished 1960s pop to a half strangled scream.

The Magnetic Heads were next up and with six members they crowded the small stage. Jonathan Millar’s wry and nonchalant drawl makes it easy to compare the band to a whole gamut of 1980s predecessors including The Go-betweens, Split Endz, Simple Minds or The Smiths. But it became quickly apparent that the band isn’t one to mooch off of others, each song is incredibly well crafted. Their songs veer away from traditional song structure; long progressive builds are interspersed with unexpected flourishes of tambourine and upbeat jangly keyboard. These rapid tempo changes aren’t jarring to the ear; they sound smooth, polished but most importantly incredibly fresh and exciting.

Lanie Lane sauntered on stage in a leopard print leotard, high waist jeans and an evitable quiff. Lane has the rockabilly look down to a tee. Her music on the other hand doesn’t just stick to the one genre as the set skipped between jazz, blues and poppier numbers. Announcing to the now sizable crowd that she just quit her day job as a florist, its apparent that Lane’s got the goods to back up her decision, with punters twisting in time to “Bang Bang”, “Betty Baby”, “Hoochie Coochie Man”.

Belles Will Ring, didn’t bother introducing themselves, instead they served up a solid set full of new material including ‘Come North With Me Baby, Wow”, “Deepwater” and “The Coldest Heart”, which are less upbeat love songs of old (“Park benches”) and more introspective musings. Lingering lead guitar, solid bass lines, sedate singing and the occasional flute created a darker ambience to match the lyrics. Even though the songs are moody and evoke feelings distance and space, the band played with enthusiasm and vigor.

The crowd tapered off during the interlude, but Cabins shook any sense of music fatigue from the reminding punters with hammering kick-drum beats. The consistent heavy beats in “Hounds” and “Mary” are trance like and the brooding vocals swim through the layers of off kilter guitar, causing the listener to feel in equal parts hypnotic and manic. “Foes & Thieves” and “Oceanic Blues” are more pared back and are driven by Leroy Bressington’s softly yearning vocals. Making it a more sedate, but nonetheless pleasing way to finish off the evening.

The bootleg tour succeeded in not succumbing to corporate shenanigans but showcased five cracking bands, which deserve to be hyped.

Nanna naps and late nights

I’m getting my grandma groove on tonight – early to bed and early to rise. Unfortunately the early start isn’t for something fun like jog or coffee; rather it’s for inoculation. I’m rolling my sleeves up and getting jabbed. Multiple times. Ouch.

Hopefully the mix of inert bugs won’t send me off my chops, as I’m covering a gig review at the OAF. Which sounds like it’s shaping up to be a cracker of a night, with a saucy selection of up and coming indie bands.

Belles Will Ring

Ps. I think that this post is all sounding a bit ocker, as I saw a news item about Prince William’s bemusement over the Kiwi’s choice vernacular.

Eargasm

I'm frothing at the mouth in anticipation of the week ahead.

Monday: Born Ruffians at OAF

Wednesday + Thursday: Sunset Sounds

[bubbles and palms]

Friday: State Library of Queensland + Queensland Art Gallery

[Céleste Boursier-Mougenot's guitar playing finches]

Saturday: Sydney Festival First Night

Sunday: Sleep.

"Say It" (in a letter)

Dear Future Self,

I've just bought you a very lovely present. A sure fired recipe for sore soles and a raspy voice - yup, you're going to shake a screw loose when you see the Born Ruffians on the 3rd January.

xo

Fi

ps. sorry Future Self but i really did need that piece of cake at lunch today and i promise to try harder to cut down on buying books, as i know i'll regret spending all those pennies when you're hiking in Nepal without any moola for lunch ...but how could i leave behind a double whammy of Bill Bryson?

Lights Out Wonderland

DBC Pierre was a literary sensation when he took out the Man Booker with his debut novel - Vernon God Little.

It's been a few years since i've read it, yet i can still vividly remember the descriptions of the oppressive heat of suspicion fired upon Vernon from the citizens of a small backwash town in Texas.

He's releasing his third book next month

Taking in London, Tokyo, Berlin and the Galapagos Islands, Lights Out In Wonderland documents Gabriel Brockwell's remarkable global odyssey. Committed to the pursuit of pleasure and in search of the Bacchanal to obliterate all previous parties, Gabriel's adventure takes in a spell in rehab, a near-death experience with fugu ovaries, a sexual encounter with an octopus, and finally an orgiastic feast in the bowels of Berlin's majestic Tempelhof Airport. Along the way we see a character disintegrate and re-shape before our eyes.

If you can't catch him doing a reading at OAF tomorrow night, you can hear [and see] a snippet of the book here. Or if you're like me and have an aversion to audio books you can get ahead of the posse and read the opening pages of the book here. Sweet.

OAF! OAF! It's music time

Below the flashing fluorescent lights and hustling high heeled feet of Oxford Street is the dandily delicious Oxford Art Factory [OAF]. A space free of shitty R&B "DJ's" and instead it's a sizzling hotbed of artistic endeavour, living up to it's namesake - Warhol's swinging 60's factory.

Live music bounces off the exposed brick walls and polished concrete floors almost every night of the week. I've broken the soles of many shoes in manic dancing to the likes of Matt & Kim, New Young Pony Club, Dappled Cities, El Guincho and WhoMadeWho.

Luckily for me i've just bought some boots, as there's a string of must see bands gracing the stage in the next few weeks - who says Sydney sleeps through the winter?

Deep Sea Arcade

Seabellies

Boy and Bear