Harvest: A Civilized Gathering, Brisbane Botanical Gardens, Saturday 19th of November, 2011

WARNING. This is a long'un.

Last Saturday's Harvest festival- sorry, gathering, was a hotly anticipated one for me. This was not just due to the fact it had been advertised as a gathering, (implying a mature group of people interacting jollily and respectfully (to me)) rather than a typical flustered festival at the botanic gardens, (implying energy drinks, bare skin and sweaty metro males rubbing up against you... well, boganfest). But it was also as if the organisers pressed shuffle on my iTunes and created the lineup based on what came up. And what an eclectic selection: Flaming Lips, Mercury Rev, Portishead, TV On the Radio, Hypnotic Brass Ensemble, The Family Stone, Bright Eyes, The National, and the list went on. There was plenty more, and I didn't even get to see half of those I just mentioned. But here was my experience nonetheless.

After pre-festival drinks, I trundled into the festival just in time for US indie scenesters The Walkmen (missing the Holidays and H.B.E. doh.). The Walkmen are one of those bands that have a distinct, enjoyable style, but despite a few listenings, I have only found a couple of songs that really stand out for me. But they are a pretty attractive band...

Come onnn camera... well, believe me, they are. Anyway they opened with one of said standout tunes from latest album 'Lisbon', "Blue As Your Blood", which frames frontman Hamilton Leithauser's uniquely heartwrenching voice with a simple drum and bass riff. There was much off 'Lisbon', and not a lot else, obviously constrained by time, but each song had something to pay attention to, even if it was just their exceptional musicianship.

Trust me, you'd go there. Anyway, they played what everyone expected, second to last, being their big debut hit, "The Rat". The familiar opening guitar jangles were presented with all the energy this song expresses, and it simply rocked. Hamilton's voice erupted with everything he had, screeching "CAN'T YOU HEAR ME" when it was just too hard not to listen. I saw these guys at the first Laneway back in 08 or whenever that was, and I don't remember it being as powerful as this. Already pre-empting that these guys would not be the biggest highlight, it was a fantastic start to my day.

After the Walkmen men walked, I had some time to wander around the festival grounds before grabbing some food (ahh gozleeeeme.) At this point, the distinct LACK of bogans and complete totality of hipsters was totally apparent. And while stupid fashions were rife, it was damn amazing. Little touches of the festival's decore, such as umbrellas in trees, an animal discoball (may have been a pig?) and park benches made it a little kitschy but also just quite lovely. The best part is where I spent most of my day, at the Windmill stage, was just small enough to have prime access not only to the toilets, but the drink tent, AND the gozlemes. The drink tent sold STRAWBERRY PEAR CIDER (which sold out by 5pm of course), and was nicely stocked with wine, and I don't think I waited more than about a minute in any of the lines. Just so well organised and idiot free. Well. Mostly idiot free (you'll see).

Anyway, I had just grabbed said gozleme when Mercury Rev started their guitars. I should mention at this point that the timing of everything was almost too good (hey, let me get started on this gozleme fellas).

This is the first time I'd had the chance to see Mercury Rev live, and I was so excited. On the scene since the late 80's (I believe), they're like a more subdued Flaming Lips, with Jonathon Donahue's hauntingly sweet vocals and poetic lyrics their calling card. In fact, during the set you could see Wayne Coyne checking them out on the side, obviously a fan and most probably a friend of the band.

Jonnfen

They opened with "Snowflake In a Hot World", off 2008's 'Snowflake Midnight', a beautiful intro that I hadn't heard before. Swirling, magical percussion, synth and lyrics, the smoke-machine assisted eerie atmosphere, the warm sun on my face (alright a bit hot), my delicious gozleme (the last time I use that word, promise), and Jonathon's eager face, made this a perfect moment. Only to be topped by "Holes" off 'Deserters Songs' which came next.

Oh god. The beauty. It was magnificent. They recreated every sound with such delicate precision and the entire band looked like they were being indulged by each sound they created. Jonathon sang as if he had been holding back a precious gift and he was finally unleashing it upon us, and the audience lapped it up. Apart from "Butterfly's Wing" from their latest, there was more from 'Deserter's Songs', including "Endlessly" and a heartbreaking replication of "Opus 40". The emotions flooding the song were beautifully conveyed by Jonathon and crew, and I have to admit, if I'd let myself go, a little tear could have peeped out my eye a wee bit.

Alas, timetable updates meant that one of my favourite bands ever, TV On the Radio, were on halfway through Mercury Rev's set. And I was not missing a second of them if I could help it. So, while most of the bones in my body told me not to, I left to catch them. As I did the Rev had begun a cover of Peter Gabriel's "Solsbury Hill". Daaaaaamn. I later heard that they ended on "Goddess On a Highway" and "The Dark Is Rising", at which point someone did burst into tears. I probably would have been there with her. Damn you timetable clash!

I pretty much ran to get to the Riverstage (the longest distance away from the Windmill stage dammit), going faster when I heard what I thought was "Wolf Like Me", but turned out to be "Halfway Home". Noooo! I got there in time for them to start a sped up, even-more-brass-filled version of "The Wrong Way", the opener from their debut. It was a bit erratic and I lost momentum while trying to keep up with it, and so obscure that my brother didn't even realise they had played it.

I felt better about leaving Mercury Rev when I noticed that Wayne Coyne had also dashed away and was at the right of the stage watching, unless he has doubles or stand ins like Santa Claus. Considering my brother also reported having walked behind him on his way to the venue earlier that day, perhaps this is the case. It wouldn't surprise me.

It got a bit more normal with a few from their latest 'Nine Types of Light', the upbeat "Caffeinated Consciousness", which got the crowd moving in recognition. While the band, particularly frontman Tunde, had amazing energy and prowess, the sound was just a little too off for it to be the amazing experience I expected it to be. The combination of individual elements that make TV On the Radio so good was kinda missing as they ran together in a blur of distortion, and I feel that was just to do with logistics and the stage set up rather than their own doing. I can imagine a solo show would be a different (and fantastic) story.

Then came the two killing tracks, grooveful "Golden Age" and crowd sing along "Will Do", and then a surprising "Young Liars" from the same-titled EP. While I would have liked to hear more favourites, it was nice that they had a broad selection and some older fare. "Staring At the Sun", their first big thing, was great, but would have been more amazing without that said distortion, but the set closing "Wolf Like Me" excelled despite it, probably thanks to the energy of the crowd due to it's classic indie status. While it ended the set in a brilliant way, the sound did not give the experience the same punch that I expected. I'm sure I'll be satisfied at a later date in a non-festival atmosphere somewhere else in Brisbane... (Are you listening TVOTR?)

Death In Vegas was the next on my list to see, and I slowly made my way over. Flashy lights onstage when it's still daylight is not my thang...

There wasn't a lot I recognised... I only have the classic 'Scorpio Rising' and I didn't hear any songs from that, but it was all very chilled, very ambient, and distinctively Death In Vegas-y. They were obviously very good, and the atmospheric combination of synth and breathy vocals did you carry you along with it... but it felt like the wrong kind of time and place for this sort of music. While a bit alternative, the electronica in amongst the indie rock changed up the feel a bit, so I gave up and decided for my friend and I that we would catch the last of Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, a band notorious for not doing so well live.

We got there and not long after, they finished "Upon This Tidal Wave of Young Blood", from their self titled, and walked off, 10 minutes before their scheduled end time. Good one Steph. Another friend praised their show today, but I was skeptical, as the few minutes I caught sounded a bit off kilter. But maybe it was amazing! I'll give them the benefit of the doubt.

Some much needed grass time later, instrumental post-rockers Mogwai came onstage, one of the few bands on the bill not from New York. While they kinda do look like they do come from New York....

...they're actually Glaswegians, and I will remember them fondly for their Splendour show in 2006 (OH MY GOD THAT WAS FIVE YEARS AGO???), so was keen to see their thing again. I could have caught bits of Bright Eyes and the National at this point, but I wasn't feeling the vibe of either band at that moment, and I have tried and failed at becoming a proper National fan. So while the rest of the audience rushed off to catch them, I was happy at Mogwai, which was also a chance to get a good spot for the Flaming Lips.

This set was another case of "don't really recognise anything much" as they have done a couple more albums since my Splendour experience, of which they took a lot of their current set list from. Still, they created some amazing moods, which was further enhanced by their anticipation of wildlife ("We've been told we're going to see some bats soon", said one of the guys). And, after some amazing swells of intensity, during a down-tempo, mellow interlude, sure enough the bats came gracefully flying across the sky behind the audience, one by one. The band looked on in fascination as they played solemnly, and the crowd looked up and swayed, supported by the music. It was a very special, awe-inspiring moment. Another highlight was the addition of Luke Sutherland to sing on the deliciously beat driven "Mexican Grand Prix". It was at this point I spotted my first solo drunk idiot, who clapped his hands loudly yelling "YEAH I LOVE MOGWAI" at the crowd's dismay. Luckily he was out of sight by the time the band finished, and I could inch up to one person behind the front in preparation for Wayne and co. of Flaming Lips fame. Even though he was festival old hat by now.

As he did at their show in Splendour last year, as we waited and watched the band set up, Wayne fiddled around the stage looking restless as the roadies put all the little bits and pieces in action. Every now and then he'd greet the stage, which did not give the same reception as Splendour (where there was probably 50 times as many people), and this seemed to disturb him later as he tossed his hands up in the air at random intervals urging us to cheer him more. At the front, we were doing our best to cheer, and it came pretty naturally, so I guess they weren't as receptive further down. But it was a smaller venue, and Wayne's urging the crowd on won some crowd frustration more than anything, particularly as it took away from more music.

Anyway, after much ado, the Flaming Lips set began, in the same way as it probably has for the past 5 or so years, but then again, why fix what's not broken?

If you're not aware, to start a Flaming Lips show, a dome screen displays a dancing glowing naked lady, who then leans down and shows us her lady bits. Except her lady bits are super mega glowing with rays of light, and as you are sucked into her... chasm...

Oh hai, vag

...out comes the band, one by one, and Wayne pops into his bubble, ready for a crowd surf as the band plays on.

Being so close to the front meant I was half excited, half petrified that I'd be squashed by Wayne's bubble body, but luckily, lots of taller people around me meant I really didn't even cop much of a feel. I copped more at last year's Splendour in which I got to push his buttock over within the bubble as it travelled through the crowd. This time I think I got a knee.

Hooray, I had survived the bubble, and the proper music had commenced. Double joy!

Note: I have about 10 photos of the band with the baldy in front, a security guard who insisted on standing smack bam in the middle of everything. I wanted to punch him in the face but instead he's like that guy in the photobooth in Amelie.

They continued on with "Worm Mountain" from latest full length 'Embryonic', and then to my thrill, played "She Don't Use Jelly", and the front crowd sang along with all their might as the Lips recreated their old time signature tune. It was a rather marvellous moment. Unfortunately, the girl on my right had decided that standing was overrated and from this moment until about halfway through the gig (when I had managed to shake her), decided to lean her body, arms, butt, even her thick brick of a head, on my body, continuously. Even though she had a boyfriend in front of her to lean on and plenty of room behind her. She continued to elbow and headbutt me into oblivion, including stomping on my foot a few times, no matter how much I shoved, elbowed, and pushed her off me, trying to inch away from her. At one point she turned to me and said "HOW GOOD ARE THE FLAMING LIPS" and it took me a few seconds of dumbfoundedness to respond with "Yep, pretty good.". Drugs? Lips induced stupor? Just an idiot? Who the hell knows.

Along with bubbles and LED's, there was a crew of dancing people lined up on each side of the stage dressed as Wizard of Oz characters (I entered the competition to be one of them, but apparently writing to them that my dancing style is akin to David Brent wasn't favoured?), an extreme mass of balloons, a wind machine, and Wayne's hand held streamer machine, set free whenever he felt it necessary. Basically, a party onstage, in every sense of the word. This all culminated in a peak moment during the next song, "The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song", which was an absolute orgasmic joy. Idiot girl was totally forgot as I was just taken away into ecstatic stupor, chanting "WITH ALL YOUR POWER" with the rest of the crowd. Wayne coupled the explosiveness with theatrics by popping confetti filled balloons with his guitar as they came near him, resulting in confetti blasts in time with the musical peaks. It was satisfyingly fun to watch.

Things got weirder with the Neon Indian collaborated "Is David Bowie Dying?" (No, guys! Noooo!) and 'Embryonic''s "See The Leaves". Around this time Wayne brought out the giant hands with lasers on them and played with them on the mirror ball, creating an abso-fucking-lutely magnificent effect. It was like, another world...man.

just to reiterate: the lasers are coming from his HANDS

I was surprised to not hear "Fight Test" but very happy to hear an extremely slowed down acoustic version of "Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots (part 1)", the title track off their critically loved album. The final moments also consisted of the uplifting "Pompeii Am Götterdämmerung", in which a giant gong lit up with every smash of Wayne's streamer-wrapped baton. And then, as expected by all, but still an amazing delight, came "Do You Realize". I did feel tears in my eyes at that point. Already a gorgeous and heartwarming song, it filled the auditorium with hysterical bliss as the crowd sang along with Wayne and the music built around us, and I honestly could not think of a more amazingly felt moment in my life at the time. I said it on facebook and I'll say it again. If you can condense a Flaming Lips concert into some kind of pill or remedy, there would be nothing but joy and everyone would be happy and bake a pie full of rainbows and smiles together.

LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL!

While the rest of the band looks on quite vaguely, it doesn't matter (and perhaps they know it), as all eyes are on Wayne and the theatrics. Wayne is either the most mentally insane person in the world, or he has discovered the truth to happiness, and either way, I'm very grateful for it.

So, I did say that there cannot be a comedown after a Flaming Lips Pil, but if there was one, it would be in the form of Portishead.

life is tragic.

Exhausted and exhilarated, I sat up on the hill with the others to listen, late to get to the headlining show. The sound at the Riverstage was again, a bit distorted, but the sound was still quite good and the beats compelling. Beth Gibbon's voice sounded slightly weak, probably for the same technical reason, but was beautiful and haunting and without a single hitch, not ageing a day. I was delighted to hear "Sour Times", the hammond organ penetrating and mournful, and the jarring "Machine Gun" from their 3rd album a few years back. "Over" and "Roads" were hauntingly magnificent. I found myself singing along to "Glory Box", trying to imitate the delicate emotion in Beth's voice which was all there as it is on the record. There was no faulting their live show despite the sound-carrying limitations of the stage set up, just pure, gorgeous melancholy. For their first Australian tour in almost 15 years, I could understand why they headlined and were so anticipated... tenderly intricate, their live interpretations were pretty much to perfection.

Wow though. After such a high, it was an odd way to end a festival. Instead of bubbling and giggling off to post-festival pancakes, we trudged back a bit neutral, despite the amazing day we'd had. It's the way music affects you I guess, that's the power and beauty of it; it can change a mood in a heartbeat.

Looking back, I really could NOT fault Harvest. Yeah there was a timetable clash I didn't need, and yeah the biggest idiot at the festival ended up next to me, but it really lived up to it's promise as a civilized gathering, and every band I saw was really, really good. There was not a negative thing about it, really. Really. I have extreme hopes for Harvest to return next year and make itself a staple, but I worry that with added advertising and interest, its return may gradually turn it into the monster that once-small festivals are now becoming (Splendour, Laneway without the lane). Perhaps it can't be avoided... or perhaps together we can make this our special musical gathering, lovers of good sounds. Yes we can!

As peppered within this day were moments I will look back on as the best of 2011 and perhaps the twenty-teens, I give Harvest TEN out of ten confetti filled giant balloons.

Steely Dan with Steve Winwood, Sirommet Winery (Mt Cotton), Sunday 23rd of October, 2011

So I've really dropped the ball on reviewing the last gig I went to (see title), which was a trillion years ago now. I thought I was doing better, but I think half the reason why I slacked off this time around is because I wonder if anyone really wants to read a Steely Dan review? Because; does anyone really care about Steely Dan anymore? Until Seth Rogan publicly told Paul Rudd that Steely Dan gargles his balls, in the movie Knocked Up, I feel people had kind of forgotten they even existed. And that was more of a cynical reminder, not triggered by a camp dance scene in an indie movie (see Hall and Oates in 500 Days of Summer).

But people did remember once, before they forgot, and there is a reason for it. The same reason I shelled out well over a hundred to see them at Sirromet, one hungover Sunday in October. They were actually a pretty good band.

Hailed as the "anti-heroes of the seventies" by Rolling Stone magazine, Walter Becker and Donald Fagan were definitely not the hippest of the bunch but they knew how to craft a song, very well, and are well known for being a top notch studio band. Apart from production value, their lyrics also standout as complex, cerebral and at times cheeky, and I have a soft spot for their harmonic style. There is a lot of cheese, but there is some amazing musical moments amongst the cheese that make me crank out the 'Pretzel Logic' or 'Can't Buy A Thrill' every now and then.

Sirromet reminds me of the Riverstage set up in the Botanic Gardens, with a nice big and slightly lopsided tent, and a large seating area with a few food stations (and queues galore), but an easy to access drinks tent (not that I was taking advantage of this). We missed Oh Mercy but arrived about half an hour before Steve Winwoods set (or as dad called him, Stevie). I knew Steve's famous groups (Spencer Davis Group and Traffic ) but hadn't realised how much I really knew until his set began. He opened with "I'm A Man", an excellently groovin' and powerful start to the set, his voice strong and expressive . Amidst some jamming, he also played the classic "Bring Me a Pile of Money"... I mean "Higher Love", and others I knew but didn't know I knew, such as "Can't Find My Way Home."

tiny people!

The only issue I really had was that it was so goddamn long. It was an hour and a half of music, which is nice for such a classic artist, but a huge chunk of that time was spent on extremely elongated solos and jammin' jams. There was the guitar solo (played by a magnificent guitarist, to be fair, who played it with the constant look of ecstasy on his face), then the bongo solo (yes the bongo player was also great, but what can you do with bongos to make it go so long AND keep it interesting?), then the drum solo. Great musicians, but how many times can you hear the same riff over and over again. It was just unnecessary, or as my dear godmother would say "WANKY SHIT!" or something to that effect. I know this is what people want to see at gigs sometimes, but I've never been a long solo fan, which is why I enjoy but don't love Pink Floyd, and skip the middle bit in "Light My Fire" by the Doors. (musical hell for me?)

this is actually the best photo. Courtesy of father (my camera failed at this event)

Anyway Stevie finished on a pretty high note with the song that has been in every film, "Gimme Some Lovin' " which had all the oldies in ecstasy, and finally made his way off the stage. Or he did a few dozen encores, I'm not quite sure. In between sets, we were treated to the house DJ dressed as a bogan version of Evel Knieval, strutting the stage while spinning old classics amongst recent radio fare (just to remind the crowd that Adele exists, thankyou), which the ageing crowd just absolutely lapped up. As we stood for some food we couldn't help watch and chuckle, particularly as this old fellow looking about 70 danced right next to us blind to the world like he had OD'd on his arthritis meds. I had reassure my dear godmother that she and my parents were not as old looking and odd-behaving as he was.

Steely Dan rolled onstage. They appeared to figure that they were supposed to follow Steve's act, and opened with a drawn out instrumental song I didn't recognise as theirs, but was certainly in their style. For good measure, it also went on for a bit as well. As you might see from the first photo, as far as appearances go, nature, or maybe drugs have not been too kind. Walter is a tubby balding bearded fellow with small eyes and a ridiculous lisp (hence not ever really hip), and talked like he was still stuck in California in the 70's. He addressed the crowd in a way that brought my cringe on, talking about how cool getting high is and what great weed they got from somewhere, and that this was going to be the greatest fucking show ever and we were going to party like it's nineteen seventy something, and other things that just didn't need to be said. Get back to your guitar old man. Don looked like he was only there to do one thing, and that was to sing the songs, and play the piano, that was all he wanted thankyou very much, and that was all he did. His voice was not the greatest I have to say, but had it's pleasant moments, and behind the cracking there was still the heart and emotion from the original recordings. And, despite Walter's blabberings, Don did portray the image of being the major player of the band, bringing the melodies and warblings to life onstage as on record. All I could really see Walter doing was having a bit of a fiddle around on his guitar and doing a bit of a boppy dance thing (maybe he was quite high). Even the really great guitar solos, riffs and drum fills were done by the backing band members, so I wasn't sure and really couldn't pick how Walter was contributing at all. But hey, after decades of living an inoffensive musical legacy with your partner, why not just muck around and have a jolly good time with it? Good for Wally.

Don. the camera was just tricking, it's actually quite good

Anyway, they played a lovely heap of hits, including "Bodhisattva", "Peg", "Hey Nineteen", "My Old School", and the big one, "Ricky Don't Lose that Number". The music and the backing vocals were outstanding as par the course for for travelling studio rock classic acts, and my parents and their friends looked like they were enjoying even the songs they weren't fans of (e.g. "Dirty Work", in which the backing ladies carried the whole song minus Don beautifully).

The couple beside us (one of whom had been asleep when we arrived), were so blissfully drunk, that they provided extra added amusement to the event, particularly thanks to their dancing. As the concert appeared to be on it's last legs, we all chanted "DO IT AGAIN!" at various moments before the end: as we hadn't heard this (total fave) yet, and where the heck was it? The couple chanted with us merrily, until the last song played and the house music came on, at which point they realised we were asking for a song, not just generally wanting some more music. Cue chuckles.

And that was the biggest suck of the night- we could NOT believe they would skip such an excellent song, arguably their best, which some might think of as their biggest hit. What! The hell! People!

Sitting in a car for a good half hour while the traffic dissipated, we had no steely in the car to rectify this great desire to hear this song, so HERE IT IS FOR YOU in youtube glory. But you know what, if you don't have it, download it or iTunes it, and put it on the surround stereo system. Grab a glass of wine, comb your fringe over, put on some wayfarers, cross your legs on the couch, and turn it up. It will make you feel so lame yet SO COOL at the same time. ENJOY.

Non music related rant 1: Religion, Altruism, and I get all philosophical and mess up my own brain a bit.

****DISCLAIMER**** I may offend some people in this post, particularly those with very strong feelings towards religion or spirituality. Please know I do not mean to offend anyone and this is merely my own brain thoughts, which you are free to challenge and contradict any time. ****END DISCLAIMER!!****

Hi everyone

We interrupt our regular programming with a word from our blogger with regard to a different topic. It seems fitting right now, as this blogger does not deserve to call herself a live music blogger, because of two reasons. No. 1. she failed to go see Clouds, The Wonderstuff and Jesus Jones in September. Whattaloser. No 2. she failed to blog about a gig she saw in the same month, being Charlie Mayfair at the Zoo. Being too distracted by alcoholic beverages and good company is no excuse not to be able to say at least something about the band, other than enjoying it. She has failed herself.

And that concludes THIRD PERSON.

I've noticed something about the place that I work, which I sort of noticed a little bit throughout the years but it has become increasingly obvious the more I meet people in it. It's an observation more than anything, but something I initially found quite astounding. First I should explain what I do. I am a public servant working with disability services. At the moment I am working with families and children between 0-6 yrs old, after a much longer stint working with adults in the same department. Basically, i provide behaviour support services to people with disabilities, their carers and family members.

Anyway, a bit more about me and my views on stuff. I was brought up in a pretty normal family (or dysfunctionally normal, no family is normal), with pretty good values, ideals, and mostly learnt how to treat people in life and good and bad. My dad was brought up roman catholic by a very god fearing woman (Nonnie, may she rest in peace) and my mum was brought up in a christian household. Throughout the years, from what I know, Dad increasingly found reasons not to keep his faith, and has undertaken what I see as a lot of soul searching and researching, to find himself more atheist than catholic. I get the sense he is still searching but finds much skepticism in religion as a whole. He never put those values on to me in any way, and we have only discussed the ideas he's found in my later years when I've been mature enough to understand them.

Mum has always considered herself a christian, and far as I know, will sometimes pray, but doesn't go to church or do any of those christianly things christians do. She is the one who encouraged us to pray at night, but never made us go to church (thank ... deity). From what she's told me, she still believes something is out there and there is something to believe in, but as for the christian church, way of life and more specific beliefs, she does not really ascribe to it, at least anymore. I kinda get the sense she is uncovering those things Dad did when he began to doubt what had been instilled in him so long ago.

So that's my parents, and now me. I went to Sunday school, mass with Nonnie, school sundays, and lutheran schools for my whole education. This was all driven by my parents, but one thing they did not do, was baptize me or my brother... that I had to actually request for myself when I was about 7 years old. I felt so proud deciding I wanted to be christened, but I can say now that it was driven by 2 things: 1. The repeatedly told idea that those who weren't christened would not go to heaven and would be driven into the fiery blazes of hell, and 2. Presents.

My parents tell me they did not want to christen us until we were old enough to make our own decisions. I'd so love that to be true but I get the sense it was probably just laziness on their part. My sister got carted off to the water basin before she was a 1 year old and could decide for herself, in the middle of an aged care village's usual Sunday service.

Anyway, it wasn't until highschool that I began to question the whole thing. I began to wonder what the hell this book was talking about and where it came from and why it says you are supposed to do all these weird (to me) rituals and marrying lots of people was okay in one chapter but laying by another person of the same sex was not in another. And that the world was really quite young but here I was learning about billion year old dinosaurs. It just didn't make sense. And people's ideas that well, a day in god's world was like millions of years in our world! But that didn't make chronological sense! Anyway enough about evolution and all that stuff. I just questioned the whole idea. And while I have some fond highschool memories, some of the teachers did not help. There was the teacher who went on a giant rant about homosexuality being wrong and evil and even pretending that you are homosexual is a sin. I didn't really know anyone who was gay, I was pretty sure I wasn't gay, but something made me get up and walk out of that classroom. Then there was the one who made up a parable about someone having a friend who wasn't christian, who lead the protagonist down a dark path, concluding his speech with "So just be careful who your friends are". Around a similar time when I wasn't sure if this whole thing was for me, some motivational wanker came to school to tell his born again story, and wanted us all to write private questions on a piece of paper and send them to the front of the hall. I wrote down something like "Is it wrong to question some of the ideas and stories in the Bible, but still want to be a christian?". Lo and behold he pulled it out and answered it. His answer was rubbish, and basically consisted of "you shouldn't question God. You should trust God wholly and know him..." and all this talk about knowing god and not questioning anything because that is bad. Thanks, dude.

The best part was the teacher who gave us a logical standpoint for christianity. It was basically, if you believe, and you're right, yay heaven. If you believe, and you're wrong, well you go to wherever you actually go when you die. If you don't believe, and you're right, you go to wherever you go when you die. But if you don't believe, and you're wrong, you go to hell. So logically, you might as well believe, as chances are higher for you to not go to hell. What!? Oh well, I better just believe. Might as well.

But even THAT did not sit with me. You can't MAKE YOURSELF just cast all of what you've decided you know to be true, aside, to throw yourself into a gamble on life. Okay, maybe you do it if you like the values a religion epouses, the peace and sense of mind, and the ability to trust something higher than yourself. But you know, I really WISH I could do that. But there are values of christians that I know still hold today, that I cannot agree with. Homophobia of course is a big one, and just general discrimination. The idea of the beginning of life is another big one. The idea of praying instead of talking to someone, pinning your hopes and dreams on an abstract being instead of making change through actions and self will, thanking god for a medical miracle instead of a doctor.

At the end of the day, I can't trust and know someone I have no evidence even exists. I can however, trust and know myself. I don't need a carrot of 'heaven' dangling above my head to strive to be good. I would like to be good and do good things just because, not because I have a deal with an invisible magician.

I do think that something has created this world and us to have feelings and will and amazing mindpower. But whatever created it, to me could not be a person or being- some have the view that God is an energy force, like Star Wars always said. That makes more sense to me. But in that sense, however people have interpreted this energy force, created all these different religions, and psychology tells me that people created religion to satisfy that need to have spirituality and a sense of purpose. By that nature, I can't ascribe to a religion. I have no drive to.

Ok. Got that out. Phew.

So the point is. Apart from one student doing placement, I am fairly certain I am the only person on my team at work that isn't a christian. And by christian I mean, go to church, help run youth groups, do church study groups; active, participating christians. At lunchroom conversations and meetings etc. it would invariably come up; people's weekends are generally filled with christianly things. And it was a similar story in my previous role. Including fellow psychologists who had the same lesson taught to them about religion being a self created facet. (NOT A FACT! BLOOPER REEL!)

It came up in conversation with one of my colleagues who asked me if I went to church. When I said no, and they asked why, I said I didn't consider myself a christian. I started to explain away myself, but later realised that was just as bad as pretending I was a christian. I made that decision myself for good reason and I should not change my values or reasons to make someone else like me better.

The thing is, I do have christian values in a sense. I am in this job because I have always wanted to do something to help others, apart from my long repressed wish to be a rich and famous actress. I wanted to help people with disabilities for a long time too. I have pretty firm beliefs in equality and humane treatment for all living creatures, which ties into my recent foray into vegetarianism, and I can be fairly easily incited into rants when prompted about poor handling of issues of disability, mental health, homophobia, child abuse, animal rights/welfare, capital punishment poverty, etc. As I'm sure most of you reading will do as well depending on what you're passionate about.

But when I see that most people in my job are active christians, I wonder why this is the case. The 2006 census listed 63.9% of Australians identifying themselves as christian, and I get the feeling that number is probably decreasing more than increasing (I could be wrong, I'm just speculating, feel free to counteract any of these opinions). So 6 out of 10 of my team members should be christians. But I'm the only 1 out of 10 who is non-christian.

I read an interesting article "The History of Disability: A History of "Otherness", by QUT researchers Jayne Clapton & Jennifer Fitzgerald, which talked about the religious model of disability. Initially seen as a result of evil spirits, as unpure/unwhole or of sub-human status, people of disability were either left with their families in survival roles, or became homeless, and often ostracised in both cases. It quotes:

"Religious communities, often within the local precincts or parishes, responded to these groups of people in various ways. These included the promotion and seeking of cures by such actions as exorcisms, purging, rituals and so on; or providing care, hospitality and service as acts of mercy and Christian duty to "needy strangers".

The article then goes on to talk about the shift from religious to the medical model of disability, in which priests were replaced by doctors, and speculation with reason, and as such, people's lives became defined by a medical label. Disability was seen as a low rung affliction, and people 'afflicted' were seen as unable to live a normal life, requiring removal from society. Enter institutionalization, designed for people to be placed and taught to become 'normal' productive members of society; while their 'normal' family members could live their 'normal' lives as these working members of society. After the 1970's this view shifted to a community care based view, however that view of people with disability as being 'lesser' and 'flawed' than others was maintained. It is in this care system, where this quote comes most relevant:

"Lack of access to adequate material resources perpetuates a charity discourse which depicts certain people as in need of help, as objects of pity, as personally tragic, and as dependent and eternal children. It is a discourse of benevolence and altruism; and like with the responses of early Christian communities, this discourse serves a complimentary relationship between perceivably helpless people as instruments for good and virtuous works of mercy and compassion by the more "privileged" members of society."

This quote really hit me. While we have moved slightly to a rights-based model of disability, involving acknowledging that a person with a disability is a complete valuable person who deserves the same rights, quality of life and opportunities as everyone else, we still have a HUGE way to go to actually achieve this in society. And part of the reason why it will still take a long term, in my opinion, is because the concept in this quote is still quite real and within our society, in and out of Christian communities.

Similarly, on Q&A a few weeks ago, there was a question raised, being:

"A university study concludes that religious people are more generous, more altruistic and more involved in civic life than their secular counterparts. They are more likely to give blood, money to a homeless person, financial aid to their family or friends, a seat to a stranger and to spend time without someone who is a bit down. If religion contributes so positively to society, why then are we so quick to distance it from politics and don't want it influencing our policies and society in general?"

Let's leave the question of religion in politics today. There was only one atheist on the panel, Cristina Rad, who responded by questioning the quality of this research. Which frustrated me! You're the only atheist in the room, don't waste time questioning the research! My question is: Why? And what about the people who are not christian? Why do you have to be christian to be these things, and what is it about being christian that makes people more likely to do them? Why do you have to believe in something to help people out? Is it because there's that promise that if you do right, do good for others, then you will get to heaven? That there is this person who told people to be this way as they are watching and needs to like you? Is that why? Am I barking up the wrong tree here, am I looking at it wrong?

And if I have it right, is that really altruism?

Altruism is described as concern for the welfare of others, and in it's purest form, giving up a value or benefiting someone without any expectation of compensation or benefits received back, either directly or indirectly. (thanks wikipedia) And christianity as well as other religions, teaches this concept quite largely, which is fine. But in teaching it, is it really purely giving without expected payoff? If you're taught you have to be altruistic to be a good person/go to Heaven/gain good karma, well is it so pure and innate?

Having said that, helping people out and making a difference, christian or not, brings such joy when it happens, you truly do feel really good about yourself for a lasting period of time. You feel like a better person and that you've achieved something. When I achieve some success at work, I am totally buzzed, and get the job satisfaction I wait in anticipation for. Instant payoff. So it's not really helping someone without something in it for you. You get back a bit of a warm fuzzy and slightly smug feeling. Thus... you saw it coming... is THAT true altruism???

WHAT IS TRUE ALTRUISM???

DOES IT EVEN REALLY EXIST??????

Maybe Nietzsche was right when he said that there is no such thing as true altruistic actions.

I think as people, we do have some innate drive to help people who we consider less fortunate than ourselves. Some part of it is in our nature. And it is FANTASTIC and amazing and also NECESSARY that many people have a passion to help others in need and do it on a regular basis. But I do think that it is worth a look at the reasoning behind why (at least some) people do these things more than others, particularly if it continues to facilitate the message that you and I are better/more privileged than that guy and those people, and thus we have an obligation to provide them with as much help as we can afford. And whether you believe that a good life leads to good riches in heaven, or that you just become dust in the wind after death, or that you become sheep in the next life, that's wonderful, as long as whatever you do comes from you, and not someone else's rule or demand.

I think it's time to shut up now.

Akron/Family, Gallery of Modern Art, Friday 30th of September 2011

Akron/Family are could be best described as harmonic folk transformed into drug induced tribal psychadelia, or something that makes more sense. It's not easy as they go into all sorts of territory, becoming more complex and layered as their albums progressed. Their self titled debut was my first taste of the band, whom I discovered on a Spunk Sampler that was attached to my copy of 'Come on Feel the Illinoise' by Sufjan Stevens. That first album was the beautiful harmonic folk side of the band, with moments of synth, distortion, and tribal country elements without taking over the gorgeous flow of the record. First impressions often have the most impact and hence their first is my favourite, but that's not to discount the brilliance of their later albums, particularly 'Meek Warrior', 'Set 'Em Wild, Set 'Em Free', and their latest, 'S/T II: The Cosmic Birth And Journey Of Shinju TNT' which is fast becoming a favourite of mine this year. As they've continued to grow, the harmonic folk has remained in some way, but morphing into more of the crazy features that were peppered in their first album.

Fittingly, A/F's first Brisbane show was chosen as the closing act for the Gallery of Modern Art's (GOMA)latest 'Up Late' season. 'Up Late' involves musical artists playing in the gallery hall every Friday night for a number of weeks, as part of their latest exhibition. This season's exhibition involved Surrealism, and due to A/F's regular exploration into the slightly weird and abstract, there could not be a better choice for musical guest. While I enjoy my visual art, I'm a bit art retarded, which is not why I hadn't checked out the exhibition before tonight, that was mostly due to laziness. I regret this, as there wasn't much chance to truly explore the ins and outs of the gallery on this evening. Things had changed since I last went there, with an inside bar leading up to the stage area and funky lounges and chairs around for pre-drinks. Pity there was not only no sign of an ATM around, but also a ridiculous queue, or I possibly could have enjoyed this new set up. That's my only whine I promise.

Anyway, the 3 (only 3?) bearded members of the band came on slowly, Miles on the synth/loops/crazy dodads, Seth on guitar/crazy dodads, and Dana hiding away at the back on drums/crazy dodads. They began to build up a bit of a synth wall of sound for what felt like 20 minutes but was probably more like 5... or 10. Instrumental blare is fine, but it worried me slightly that this was all going to be difficult abstract noise rather than structured songs. Luckily I needn't have worried, as they finally launched into "River", sounding crisp and fresh, and absolutely jubilant. The band continued through a few more earlier songs, such as "Ed Is A Portal" amongst most tracks off their new one. Highlights included the murderous bass and then cheerful philosophy of "A AAA O A WAY/So It Goes", the lovely "Light Emerges" with Seth on vocals, and "Another Sky" in which not only did their guitar fiddling skills get a work out, but so did the audience vocals in a well encouraged sing-a-long. It was also where Miles and Seth decided to get down and have a jig with the audience, looking more excitable than some of the audience members.

Interspersed within and between songs were more electronic jams, including at one point an explosion of what sounded like distorted scratchings of a record overblown to leave me clutching at my ears in pain. Half of the time these moments were delightful soundscapes, the other half, I found myself trying to send telepathic messages for them to get on with it. Nonetheless, weird indulgent instrumentals are what come with the style and territory, and it did flow quite well and connect the songs together nicely, in most cases. Even when Miles decided we all had to close our eyes with one hand up in the air, and relax for a few minutes.

When things got melodic, it was absolutely gorgeous, and true to the album tracks in every way. They swapped vocals, roles and instruments effortlessly with an amazing group vibe. Their harmonies were magnificent and so lush and perfect, it was hard to believe there were only 3 guys onstage. When harmonic indie bands are pretty in at the moment, I think these guys give the others a run for their money, even the likes of Grizzly Bear and such, whose live show I feel was vocally not as collectively, consistently good.

The sad fact of the gig was the fact that nothing from my favourite album was played, which I had convinced myself would happen, strangely enough. I naively would have loved to hear some of the acoustic offerings from it but I had thought they would at least play "Running, Returning". At least for their Brisbane audiences on their first show here? I assume a gallery show does reduce the setlist somewhat however, despite being an awesome venue choice.

As has been the custom for me lately, we were ushered out within 10 minutes of the band finishing up. I know, I lied, my earlier whine was not my last. But if GOMA is going to call something "Up Late", can they at least give us a bit of time to exit the gallery instead of demanding we leave at 10.30 on the dot? Aw come on. Please?

GOMA has made Brisbane a hundred times better than it was though, so I should shut my whiney mouth. I still love you GOMA, especially for hosting one of my favourite bands in all their bizarre glory.

Akron/Family get 8 out of 10 self made theremin thingies.

Ed Kuepper (as part of the Brisbane Festival), Tuesday 20th of September, The Spiegeltent, King George Square

After such a good start with Custard, my praises for this year's Brisbane Festival appears to have run its course, thanks to Tuesday night's experience at the Spiegeltent. The Spiegeltent is a Belgian travelling venue that makes its way to Brisbane's festival as it does to Melbourne, Sydney, Edinburgh, and other international events. It is truly a magnificent spectacle, luxuriously decked in velvet, stained glass and mirrors, and we are extremely privileged that it comes here once a year for a few weeks. Hence, half the reason for my decision to see The Saints/Laughing Clowns/Aints pioneer Ed Kuepper, was due the fact he was playing in this venue.

Before I get into my gripings however, a little Kuepper run down. I have seen this old chap live quite a number of times now; by himself, with his second band the Laughing Clowns, with Jeffrey Wegener (drummer from the Laughing Clowns), and with Chris Bailey, his Saints counterpart. I'm not going to lie, all these gigs have been with one or both of my parents, and my dear godmum, who have followed his career meticulously through the years. They share a bit of a soft spot for him as he went to school with a couple of their friends, and he also lives a few streets away from my family home. In fact, mum had to excitedly tell me today of her experience walking our dog near his house, to find Ed walking his own dog and letting both dogs have a mutual buttsniff. They're of course best friends now.

Ed is a local legend in his own right thanks to his key role in Australia's 'first punk band', and his band Laughing Clowns has been an inspiration to many Australian bands including the Triffids, Go Betweens, and The Birthday Party. Somehow he still slips under the radar a bit and I find most of the people at his shows are the same ones, all around my parents' age or a little younger, including those friends of his from school. Where Chris Bailey with his floppy hair and 'tude was the rock & roll image of the Saints, I see Ed as more the brains and technique of the band, which may account for his continued slightly underground status. Anyway enough of these silly opinions of mine! To the gig!

And with that here comes my criticisms. As it always has been, the organizing and planning of Brisbane Festival events are a little stifling. Firstly, you have very little chance to appreciate the Spiegeltent properly, as the show is so goddamn early and on time (precisely 7.00pm), so you have to quickly shove a dinner down your throat before rushing into the place. It has a really nicely set out area outside with astroturf and picnic tables, in which to grab nibbles and a drink. An incredibly, extremely overpriced drink. I went to get my shout for my mum and godmum, to find that all of the wine on offer was Chandon. Chan-fucking-don? Are you kidding me? Are we suddenly in the Hamptons? Why are you serving one of the most expensive mainstream wines in one of the cheapest Australian cities, during what is in fact their actual namesake festival!??!? WHO ARE YOU TRYING TO KID?

I went for the $8 Shiraz and got knocked back as they did not have any left. OF COURSE NOT BECAUSE WHO WOULD ORDER THE $10 CAB MERLOT? But, it's only red wine for these ladies, so I had to shell out $30 for my round. Boy oh boy oh boy. Luckily they filled the glasses over the little standard glass line almost as a peace offering. Sheeeeit.

As we settled in, my ladies choosing the worst possible place to sit (left of the centre with a big mirrored pole in front of me), the next stage of my gripe became quickly apparent. There was absolutely no way i was taking a photo, not even on a phone, or the photo hawk would come swooping down on anyone quick as a flash. She stood at the front corner of the venue peering into the crowd like an irate teacher, until she disappeared briefly, probably to rap someone on the knuckles with her cane, and so all I got was a hurried bright blur. Hence you will just have to close your eyes and conjour up the scene yourselves. Imagination!

So in came Kueps, old Eddy, our pal. A little scruffy around the edges, a little rotund, a bit more bearded and just as balding as I had last seen him, but with that unrecognisable smile and slightly lazy gaze. He set up his guitar and introduced his accompanying drummer, Mark Dawson, former member of The Aints, and got straight into playing the first song off his 1985 album 'Electrical Storm'. I hadn't realised until the night that he was to play two of his solo albums in full at this show, his first solo effort 'Electrical Storm' and then the acclaimed 'Today Wonder' from 1990, the only one I had listened to. You think I'd know all his songs by now due to all the shows I've seen, but I am still very much learning. Anyway, he kicked off beautifully, and all eyes were drawn to his absolutely exceptional guitarwork. Pacing through each song with ease, his voice accompanied his guitar breezily, not faltering a second. It's a unique voice of his, in a really likeable, soothing way, and I think I speak for his fans as well that I'm glad he chose to use it as a frontman and solo artist as it runs rings around Chris Bailey's signature scowl.

Mark Dawson was extremely good as accompanying drummer, and they fed off each other as if fused together; neither missed a beat or cue and the songs flowed as if really being played on a record. I really enjoyed the earthy, gritty and poetic songs they carried along, crescendoeing at the title track, which I must have heard somewhere after all. You could classify Ed's solo sound as Australian folk, in the vein of those inspired by him such as the Go-Betweens and Triffids. This would be on the mark, but his music has an almost dirtier, rawer feel, setting your imagination free to be in the song and really picture the images he puts across with his melodies and lyrics.

There was little time for chat, as Ed noted that he had time constraints, but he tried to throw as much in as possible, mostly in jest at his partner Mark, by attempting to tell his life story, repeating a few times that Mark was available for the ladies after the show. Mark was remarkably unshaken by this talk, simply smiling and playing on.

On it went with 'Today Wonder', even earthier than the first, and just as good (I hope to be raiding the family LP collection this weekend). Some more recognisable highlights here for me, obviously, particularly the achingly beautiful ballad "Everything I've Got Belongs to You", which even involved a halfdone sing-a-long, and the amazing continual medley at the end of the album/show, including "Eternally Yours" and finishing with a cover of "If I Was a Carpenter". While all keeping within the same musical essence and feel, with each song Ed showed his immense skill and refined technique, and his guitar playing alone filled the entire space with rhythm and melody, absolutely enhanced by Mark Dawson's drums. If you were hanging around outside the tent, you may have expected there to be two or even three guitarists onstage, but there was only one excellent Ed, accompanied by intricate, full bodied drumming that carried these phantom guitars .

As he completed his set, that was that and he was gone. There was little time to process the performance, as not a minute later was the announcement over the PA: "If you do not have tickets to see the next show, dream menagerie of dreams and things, please exit the venue." I.E., please GET THE FUCK OUT. NOW.

So, being told, we scuttled off, and Ed hung around outside for signing things and selling his Prince Melon Bootleg Live CD series. I stood in line for a signature and even though he's more like an old uncle than a rockstar, all I could say was "Hi, you were amazing". He thanked me for coming with quite a genuine smile, naww. My mum and godmum had suddenly transported back to the Class of 1970 and would not go up and even check out his wares, let alone say hello.

All in all, it was most enjoyable; there was literally nothing but yourself and the music and the stories and histories embedded within them. No theatrics or stage antics, which was exactly how to appreciate his music. It was all-consuming.

But, here it comes...

HOWEVER, if the festival curators want people to come see their shows, they have to not treat them like (private?) school children. Especially when the mean age of the audience was about 55. I don't wish to be a cranky pants, but we are adults here guys, and as this audience are of the Ed Kuepper fan variety, they enjoy a (reasonably priced) drink, a lazy stroll, a good sit, and a leisurely chat about what they've just seen. Just the same as most older (and younger!) alt-music concert goers. I appreciate people want their dream menagerie time so they can gawk at people with small statures dressed in top hats (disclaimer: have no idea what happens in dream menagerie), so maybe it's not a good idea to have two completely different things from different tastes together in the one place on the same night. Just good planning maybe? Where's my next focus group dammit!!

7 out of 10 glasses of Gossips*

*Jokes guys!! I do have some standards (now)

Custard (as part of the Brisbane Festival), Brisbane Powerhouse, Saturday 17th September, 2011.

Last year I caught a few acts presented as part of the Brisbane festival (Dan Kelly and Ed Kuepper), and consequently ended up in one of those focus groups for cash. The group wanted to know how we thought the rather un-famous Brisbane Festival could be improved. I was the youngest and gen-y-est of the group, otherwise consistently largely of people into theatre, art, and the combination of the two (performance art) dance, cabaret, medieval role play, and circus type dealio stuff. My contribution consisted of my love of the Brisbane music scene, and how I think Brisbane festival would bring in some extra punters (particularly my demographic) if they showcased a history of Brisbane musical artists bringing to light how the Brisbane scene formed and developed. I included examples such as the Saints, LaughingClowns, Go-Betweens, Riptides, Custard, Grates, Regurgitator, and a trillion others, yes even Violent Soho. No one seemed to really care for what I was talking about, as early on in the piece many of the contributors passed off this ridiculous "alternative indie hipster" music as being ho hum and boring. But I do feel like perhaps maybe someone thought that one of the bands I mentioned would be a good idea to get involved in the festival. Because lo and behold, when this years Brisbane festival itinerary was announced, Custard was on the bill! You are welcome.

So, Custard, if you don't know, were formed not far from my current residence, and were lead by the everyman vocalist Dave McCormack, Matt Strong on guitar, Glenn Thompson on drums, and Paul Medew on bass. They left an amazing legacy behind (if you ask me) which Dave has attempted to continue through consistent projects such as the Titanics, the Polaroids, and just plain Dave, which are all great things. However it is hard not to long for that excellent combination of musicians that brought together Custard.

Custard have put on a few reunion gigs, one at the Q150 celebration (early 2010??) and the Float On Flood Benefit gig early this year. I couldn't attend either due to a clash and also a flash of ticket sales. With no clashes, and shitty advertising, I was able to safely secure a ticket for myself and parentals, to their Brisbane festival show.

Naturally due to said parentals, things had to be more complicated than they should be, and we arrived there within a few minutes of the band making it onstage. I felt quite young again! Hooray! My parents fit in like a couple of pensioners on a citytrain from Maryborough. We were seated on a grandstand which had been set up especially on the side of the Powerhouse, which filled up nicely with a bit of room to move (and dance if you were up the top). The band kicked off with Goofinder, and seconded with Pack Yr Suitcases, and it was all onwards and upwards from there, just how I imagined them to be live.

The hits came thick and fast, in between brief relaxed banter from Dave and Matt, well as relaxed as could be within the 60 minute timeframe. "Anatomically Correct", "Nice Bird," , "Pinball Les" "I Feel Like Ringo", "Alone", "Apartment", "Hit Song"... they were all there, blazing with energy and all the charm they exuded in their heyday, as if time had never passed. "Girls Like That (Don't Go For Guys Like Us)" began as fresh as the day I saw it on 'Rage', and, listening for it, I was amused by Dave changing the line "For I am considering/A move to South America" to a more relevant "A move to Wooloongabba". Nice one Dave.

I hadn't fully realized what excellent musicians they are until watching them in action together. Matt is true to his namesake as an exceptionally strong guitarist, and murdered each song with power and complete enjoyment. Glenn Thompson was equally brilliant on the drums and even David did a good job on the drums during their brief instrument swap for "Music Is Crap". And bassist Paul was superb, camping it up to perfection during their disco-esque songs to groove the audience.

swapsies!

As their last song before their rushed encore, Dave began to sing the familiar words "In discos...", the opening lines to "Caboolture Speed Lab". And so I was able to fulfill my childhood dream of rocking out in the audience to this song, sing loudly to "GET BACK INTO THE HERE AND NOW" until the end of it, then stick two fingers up in the air and scream "CABOOLTURE REPRESENT!"*. I so thoroughly enjoyed hearing such a prominent song from my younger days. Not only is it the best named song in the universe, but it is also one of their most satisfyingly catchy best.

Ending the set with a much older favourite "Bedford" and "Pluto", from their last album 'Loverama', they left the audience with broad smiles and the huge desire for more. You could see that the band themselves were also leaving with smiles and the vibe that they absolutely loved playing these songs again, and would have been happy to continue. It would have been so nice to have got a bit more than the tight set they were allowed, but the feeling of immense elation and satisfaction of such a well played, pleasing performance, took over this thought. I was so happy to have my first and perhaps (but surely not) only Custard live experience, so for that, I am grateful. The fact it was also amazing makes me a very, very, pleased young gen-y-er.

9 bowls of jelly out of 10.

*No I didn't.

...And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead, Hi Fi Bar, Friday 9th September 2011

I'm not quite sure what it is about Austin TX band ...And You Will Know Us By The Trail of Dead that first caught my attention or that kept my attention, even after they went through a proper awful period. And when I look at it, they are the heaviest and most prog-rock band I have got into from this modern era, and likely to remain the only. Blaring ghastly distortion, screeching shouts of repetitive "fuck you"s and the like, thundering drums, lyrics of existential desolation, apocalyptic premonitions and all sorts of negative shit, the many intense earsplitting guitar solos, and superficially speaking, the ludicrous medieval fantasy-esque titles and album art, all mean really I should not love this band as much as I do. But I do very much do.

If you ask me, what sets Trail of Dead apart is the fact they are actually very creative and fabulous tunemakers. Where metal-heads get their kicks from metal bands I've never heard of, I get my similar kicks from Trail of Dead. When it's time to rock the heck out and fuck the world, it's time to listen to Trail of Dead. Except 'So Divided', please do not put this album on thank you. While Trail of Dead built up a pretty steady fan base from their self titled to their 4th and arguably most commercial (and what won me over) 'Worlds Apart', they almost lost it with their disjointed, cringeworthy failure of their fifth, which was insult to themselves and said fanbase. Luckily they dusted themselves off and tried again with 'The Century of Self', a great improvement, and now with 'Tao of The Dead', which has them back on very solid footing, and even frontman Conrad Keely has decided it is his favourite. Not mine, but it is a very good album.

Anyway, Saturday night was the second time I'd seen them, after a pretty great set in 2009, this time at a bigger venue than the Zoo... and, because not a lot of people care about this band, it was not even close to sold out. It felt a bit weird standing in a very small mosh amongst a lot of nerdy hardcore males, when it is probably the most mosh-y band I will see this year or ever. Oh well!

The set began with the opening overture from 'World's Apart' ("ISIS! HORUS! RA! SETH! ISIS! HORUS! RA! SETH!" and a pretty haphazard entrance from the band, which Conrad acknowledged with the opening words "That was supposed to be much cooler". They would have redeemed themselves with the next track off that album, but instead they launched straight into 'part 2' of their new one, containing of over 15 minutes of continuous, soaring melody and layered guitar. They continued the new album theme with a selection from 'part 1', including the haunting and pleasantly melodic combination of "Spiral Jetty" and "Weight of the Sun", and ending on radio-friendly "Ebb Away" and its ridiculous outro, "The Fairlight Pendant".

This nifty little selection from 'Tao of the Dead' was a great way to showcase their new stuff, in a way that supported the album's concept, as on record each song flows seamlessly to the next. I had wondered how they could do that successfully and congrats to them for doing so, helped by playing fantastically tight, with absolute energy and effortlessness. It even sounded like Conrad's voice has improved on 2009's concert, as while live he's often partial to a few awkward missing-the-mark moments, there were few if any of those tonight. (Was it my imagination or was he looking fitter too...?)

just a tad?

In the same way, the new album medley opened up the rest of the set for what would get the crowd raging, classic Trail of Dead highlights. First, "Will You Smile Again For Me", which just, sorry, fucking ruled, and then "Caterwaul", which also, sorry, fucking ruled. "How Near, How Far" and "Another Morning Stoner" also made it in, causing the tiny mosh to swell and feel like a big mosh. There was a moment where during my own excited jumping spell, I pushed a few overexcited younguns off me only to turn around and find there was what looked like a meter between me and the rest of the crowd. Surprisingly, they played "Clair de Lune", a slow burner and personal favourite, which disappointingly didn't really fit in with the rest of the set and felt a little awkward and lacklustre. Luckily, it was all forgotten by "Richter Scale Madness", the electric standout from their first album, reminding us all what Trail of Dead came here to do, make lots of noise that make people go crazy.

They left it here and went off stage, to never return for an encore. However I was pretty satisfied. While I would have loved to hear more, the whole experience displayed a band that appear to have come out of their various hiccups over the years, to find themselves in a place where they have always wanted to be, and are happy to remain. While I never saw them in their early years, the grit and raw energy of their early albums appears to be back in full swing, and it was all there in this show (there was not a whisper from 'So Divided' or 'Century of Self'). The band looked happy, proud, and like they were enjoying themselves and liked where things were going. If Trail of Dead never release another album or do another tour, it would be okay, as they would have made their final mark on the world (and in Australia), a fantastic one, true to themselves and their legacy. And thanks to this gig, they have now surpassed David Bowie and taken the no. 2 spot on my Last.fm chart, goddammit. Good work boyz.

8 1/2 black moptop haircuts out of 10.