Manic Street Preachers: live in Melbourne, 2013

Venue: Festival Hall
Date: 28/06
 
The Manic Street Preachers have evolved beautifully over the years into a band comfortable with what they are. The early cockiness, the time of uncertainty and the wilderness years are all behind them and despite having no new material to promote or even having been on tour at all, they display a refreshing, well-earned confidence tonight at Festival Hall. Having refined their strengths and shed a few old ghosts, they stand today as the very picture of ‘triumph against the odds’. The current set list alone represents a ‘chop off the slack’ approach to fulfilling what they themselves see as a ‘dream Manics set’, and while there will always be a few who go away disappointed, for the vast majority who attended tonight’s gig, it was pure heaven.

The fact that the band are here at all is a pleasant surprise to their multitude of devotees, making this one-off show all the more delicious. A tie-in with the British and Irish Lions rugby match in Australia was the given reason for a fly-in fly-out visit, while back home in Cardiff, the band were up to now putting the final touches on the follow up to 2010’s Postcards From A Young Man. The buzz about new music from the band has yet to really take hold, so focus tonight is on a no bullshit straight-up greatest hits package, with a few surprises thrown in for good measure.
 

The biggest surprise however is not band-related so much, as their audience tonight. Whereas the Manics dial has most often been tuned somewhere between glittery glamour and muscular rock n’ roll, tonight the switch has been given a hefty shove towards the latter. The Manics found their inner brute in an effort perhaps to appeal more readily to the present boof-head contingent. This is after all a show designed to bring together the many rugby loving ex-pats in Melbourne as well as appease the already converted. But then it’s just like the Manics to pull a mob of beer-soaked lads and wags only to lead them in a cheery sing-a-long about tackling an anxiety disorder (Send Away The Tigers) or the evils of consumerism (Motorcycle Emptiness).

It may all have been a little ironic, but not in such a way as to spoil the glory of their performance. James Dean Bradfield – looking fiercely fit – commanded our attention in that remarkable voice of his, and remained the undisputed ringleader throughout. His spirits are notably up as he jokes and banters with the crowd and his band-mates, loving every minute of the gig and perhaps riding high on the knowledge that there’s no nerve-rattling 50-date tour penned in this time round. Nicky Wire, always the elegant, if not mouthy one, is however short on words and even shorter on his usual drag tonight. That is to say, we didn’t get a much anticipated sighting of those marvelous legs dangling down from beneath a netball skirt or some such, and had to make do with a mere sparkly unicorn decal on each cheek as compensation. Despite such setbacks, he still has the power to get a large number of fans swooning, and remains one rock’s most beautiful creatures.

In light of the band’s more recent overseas shows to promote their singles collection National Treasures, there is a somewhat retro feel about the song selection. There are a number of fans here who weren't born when Generation Terrorists came out, but it is the early tracks (You Love Us, Motown Junk) that get the biggest response. A now long tradition in Manics gigs is the acoustic interlude where James belts out The Everlasting - with full-crowd backing – only tonight we get the added bonus of some classic Bacharach in the form of Can’t Take My Eyes Off You. The surprise cover delights us all and sets up nicely a grand finale in the form of Little Baby Nothing – which featured a rather goofy looking Jamie Roberts of the British Lions as surprise guest on acoustic guitar – Tsunami, Motown Junk and If You Tolerate This bring the set to a blinding close. But as tradition dictates, there’s no encore despite James’ teasing us with the possibility.

The show was a full body saturation of the Manics power as a live band and even a somewhat sad reminder of how many genius songs they have in their canon which have been largely overlooked. For the devoted here though it was just not enough. The knowledge that it may be several years before they come back hangs heavy at the conclusion. Talking to fans outside the venue in the cold night air, there is a mix of elation and gloom. This was after all only the bands third visit to Australia in their 26 year career. Love for the Manics is so strong among those who invest in their songs and it’s the kind of devotion many bands could dream of. The reason being, they are a band you can care about and they mean something to people which – like their peerless stage presence witnessed tonight at Festival Hall – is something worth celebrating.

lEIGh5

 

meeting Nicky Wire

FESTIVAL HALL SET-LIST (28/06/13)

 Motorcycle Emptiness
Your Love Alone Is Not Enough
You Stole The Sun From My Heart
Ocean Spray
Australia
Suicide Is Painless
It's Not War (Just The End Of Love)
La Tristessa Durera (Scream To A Sigh)
Revol
Everything Must Go
Send Away The Tigers
A Design For Life
The Everlasting
Can't Take My Eyes Off You
You Love Us
Little Baby Nothing
Tsunami
Motown Junk
If You Tolerate This

 

The Stone Roses: live in Melbourne, 2013

Venue: Festival Hall
Date: 07/03/2013

For their sideshow in the 'Manchester of Australia' – as Mani once lovingly dubbed Melbourne - Stone Roses demonstrated that when they're good, they are very fucking good indeed. It's widely known that the lads have a patchy past in terms of pulling off great live shows, but that along with their music in general seems to be a thing of the past. It isn't terribly surprising that there is no new music from the band tonight, but at one stage during his almost flawless performance, Ian Brown hints at a future for the Stone Roses beyond the current reunion gigs.

Re-emerging in late 2011 to tour was a great move considering how closely guarded a secret it was that the band were even on speaking terms again, but Ian mentioning possible new songs without presenting any comes off as a bit of a bluff. Not that anybody could complain about the almost 20 year-old setlist which ignores most of The Second Coming in favour of that album. As debuts go, The Stone Roses simply could not be beaten. Not even by The Stones Roses themselves in fact. What is interesting though is how each song from the album performed is so very different to anything that did not make the cut. Early singles like Sally Cinnamon and several of the b-side tracks performed are all distinct in that they don't quite have the same magic as the material off the album. Of course there is one colossal exception to this rule. Nobody here at Festy tonight could argue that Fools Gold – a song they initially threw away as a freakin' b-side – was not the absolute highlight.

Fools Gold the song is of course great and was the band's most successful track, but live in concert, it is a whole other level of genius. It begins with Reni teasing us with a few pitchy cymbal smacks while Mani plucks out a slightly menacing, fat bass line which he maintains for the entire 13 minutes. Then, when John Squire begins the hook that kicked off Madchester and the whole rave-rock shebang, the crowd completely lose it. Why this song works so well live is because of the  combo of Mani and Reni as a rhythm section, but there's also much to love about Squire's unpredictable guitar playing and the soft echo of Brown's voice, surfacing occasionally in the mix. It's a cliché, but this really was Stone Roses at their most untouchable. So they serve up their 'it's funk Jim, but not as we know it' monster half way though the set tonight, leaving many here wondering just what they must be planning for an encore. But then, the answer could be found all along written on the back of The Stone Roses album sleeve.

Opening the show with I Wanna Be Adored – just as the debut album began – sets up a kind of 'running order' formula they only occasionally divert from. Ten Storey Love Song from The Second Coming is the first real shift, and while it isn't a bad tune, it's no Love Spreads. The strongest cut from the 'difficult second album' heralds one hell of a hit-fest. She Bangs The Drums – a song that too often fails in a live setting, emerges as one of the strongest tonight as it leaps out at us with every gun blazing and is rewarded with the biggest sing-a-long moment. This Is The One stands out as the  'one that really should have been a hit', and Brown is completely loving the all arms raised crowd response. It should be noted that a lot goes on around Ian during the gig and he makes for fascinating viewing. The expression 'calm like a bomb' comes to mind as he does his famous monkey shuffle dance, elbows stuck out horizontally as he bobs his head and glares out into the crowd. One moment he is almost whispering a trance-like mantra, the next he's inaudibly blasting a sound tech or hurling a full rubbish bin off stage at a security bloke for getting too physical with one of the fans.


Meanwhile, Mani – usually the mouthy one – remains the very picture of blissed out concentration, while Squire refuses to even look up from his shoes. Drummer Reni on the other hand is starring in his own movie up there behind his kit, which is adorned in 'Roses-esque lemon slices. It's quite telling how the band members' each seem so lost in their own worlds during the show. Their tense interpersonal relations have surely healed over time, but perhaps not entirely. There is a definite sense of 'we're back together because of the music', which they show absolute solidarity in.

Tonight, it was a very different Stone Roses to the band who were booed off stage at Reading in 1996 and quickly dissolved in a whimper. The reunion shows have clearly been a chance for the Roses to not only bury a few hatchets but also to change the history book entry on a band that seemed so vital before success ultimately dug them an early grave. But here at one of the most unlikely reunion concerts ever, Stone Roses conclude their set with a song almost perfectly designed for such an occasion - I Am the Resurrection. It is a triumph and it, along with nearly every song that preceded it, proves that they had never really lost 'it'. There is no encore as the work had all been done by the finish of Resurrection. Instead they close the show with group hug, a bow and a shower of praise for all who'd stuck by them. For us fans it's been a long and unlikely wait for tonight, but nobody who turned up to Festy Hall could claim it wasn't all worth it.

lEIGh5
 

FESTIVAL HALL SET-LIST (07/03/13)

I Wanna Be Adored
Mersey Paradise
Sugar Spun Sister
Sally Cinnamon
Ten Storey Love Song
Where Angels Play
Shoot You Down
Fools Gold
Waterfall
Don't Stop
Made Of Stone
This Is The One
Love Spreads
She Bangs The Drums
I Am The Resurrection
 

Meeting John Squire!

Einstürzende Neubauten live in Melbourne, 2013 (review)

Venue: The Palace
Date: 19/02/2013

The excitement of what to expect from one of the world’s most unusual and  notoriously ‘challenging’ bands begins as soon as I enter the Palace and  catch sight of the darkened stage. One almost expects to see emergency relief workers attempting to deal with a recent ceiling collapse that occurred as some band had been setting up their gear. The sight of a few recognisable instruments jutting out among PVC tubing and compromised steel wreckage creates a sinister image. Although it’s just another gig for Einsturzende Neubauten, it is  essentially anybody’s guess what terrifying racket the monstrosities before us will create once the Berlin band begin to hit, throw, rattle and blow into them.

For long-time followers of Neubauten, many things have changed considerably over the course of their 33-year career, and yet a few have not. A wrecked shopping cart, masses of wire coils and front-man Blixa Bargeld’s banshee-like scream equal familiarity, but whereas Bargeld once held court in leather bondage gear and a haircut that looked as though he had been attacked by a stylist with cerebral palsy, he now more closely resembles a pre-Jenny Craig campaign Barry Humphries in all his dandy-ish finery. Gone also is the guitar he once brutally assaulted - and occasionally played as a member of the Bad Seeds - and the earth shattering electric-hammer. All this means very little however to what is a thrilling career retrospective which never feels lacking despite the aborted, more cacophonous instrumentation.

Song wise, the band choose a lesser-played set for Melbourne - Blixa’s second home for many years. Although we miss out on gems like Halber Mensch and The Garden there is still plenty to get roused over. Headcleaner goes where a lot of Neubauten songs only hint at and for that reason it stands as their true monster-piece. Played in three parts - two brutal, one mellow - it’s a relentless insanity-inducing brain hammering, that teases us with short bursts of calm only to come round again for another pummeling. Die Interimsliebenden ebs towards ‘one you can almost dance to’ but instead evokes some more suitable head-banging from the packed crowd. Armenia is played to demonstrate Bargeld’s signature horror-screech to it’s fullest, and allow custom-made instrumentalist Andrew Chudy to show off an impressive range of percussive flostum, including a bucket of metal scrap which he showers onto an amplified plate near stage front. It’s during Chudy’s carefree hurling of dangerous objects that the venue security become visibly alarmed and brace for possible intervention.

For Bargeld however, the tense moments are not during the crashing of metal on metal or glass on metal but rather when one note is played off key in the sombre Sabrina, completely throwing the singer into a very visual tantrum. It’s a very telling moment on how much Bargeld requires total perfection from his band when he berates keyboardist Ash Wednesday and insists they begin the song again from the top. The apparently short temper and commanding presence of Bargeld make him a fascinating subject to fix eyes on throughout the melee that is happening on stage. The lack of guitar means that he is free to mess around with various objects throughout the show and as such add libs with a loud-hailer, a drill with a vinyl record attached to the bit and various voice-enhancing gizmos. Though if there’s another, equally bright star on stage, it has to be drummer Rudolf Moser. His kit is the perfect enviable big boy’s toy. Much bigger than probably required and composed of chunky wire coils, steel cylinders and saw blades - it ranks as the coolest thing ever seen at a concert. Ever.

It’s impossible to end this review without mentioning the biggest and best non-drum kit related part to Neubauten’s show; the catharsis of sheer non-conventional expression through screams and grinding machines clashing with sounds so intimate, they are little more than a whisper in your ear, or - as is the case of Silence Is Sexy - a drag on an amplified cigarette.

lEIGh5

 
PALACE SET-LIST:

Ein Leichtes Leises Säuseln
Die Befindlichkeit des Landes
Von wegen
Die Interimsliebenden
Dead Friends
Unvollständigkeit
Youme & Meyou
Let's Do It a Dada
Haus der Lüge
Rampe
Armenia
Sabrina
Susej
Headcleaner

Encore:
Silence Is Sexy
Redukt

Darebin Music Feast presents: Up Late With Kate: Celebrating the music of Kate Bush (live review)

Venue: Northcote Town Hall

Date: 22nd September 2012

Sitting somewhere between dreaded tribute show and cabaret performance – Darebin Music Feast's Up Late With Kate was at the very least Kate Bush fans only chance to experience their idol's hits in a live setting. Bush retired from touring 33 years ago, and seldom releases new music, yet her ability to fascinate and inspire musically has never waned. Over time, that reverence has translated as everything from bad cover versions to camp parodies, and while all done with a sense of admiration, have only served to highlight how hard it really is to ‘do Kate Bush’. This fact was surely in the minds of those guests brave enough to try and interpret the enigmatic singer's numerous classics tonight at Northcote Town Hall in a celebration of all things Bush.

The artists involved in tonight’s show come from all areas of music and stage, but are united geographically within the surrounding arts-rich Darebin electorate. The show’s MC, co-ordinator Benn Bennett, provides links between each artist, shares some Kate anecdotes and even awkwardly gives his own spin on a few of her songs. However, this attempt at taking on so many roles makes him hard to connect with and leaning more on his guests to carry the performance side of things would have boded well. The talent, after all, was phenomenal and every act rose to the challenge with genuine class. Jimmy Stewart's re-working of Cloudbusting in the style of Kim Salmon for instance, is proof early on that there's no guessing as to 'how' the artist's would approach their chosen song. Comedian Scott Edgar (of Tripod fame) takes on Hounds Of Love on solo electric guitar – which owes little to the original's template, yet lost nothing in his surprisingly tender re-telling. Though a tad more literal, Tina Del Twist, perfectly embodies a sad old character actor for Wow, as dictated by its lyric. Though creating the first truly grand moment of many is Sarah Ward, who's show-stopping This Woman's Work, is so true to the original, a near-sighted Kate Bush tragic would be pressed to pick it as a cover.

The real triumph of the night however belongs to Sat In Your Lap. Sung as a duet between Ward and Bennett with accompaniment on drums by a topless, horned female percussionist, the trio bring the song's nightmarish video to life right before us. The business end of the concert arrives following a quick interval in which fans flock to inspect the one prop on stage: the actual dress worn by Queen Kate in her Sensual World video, apparently procured for this event via Guy Pearce! (I didn't ask). As unpredictable as the first, the second act boasts accapella gems, In The Warm Room and Dream Of Sheep; an outstanding piano and vocal run through of The Man With The Child In His Eyes by an unfortunately staged Ali McGregor – her back is to the audience – and a smouldering Running Up That Hill by Rebecca Barnard. The finale, a fun, all-in sing-a-long of Bush's signature hit, Wuthering Heights is a hot mess, but nobody really cares as we all join in, howling through the chorus. The occasional amateurish bits in this mostly well-presented celebration are easily forgiven, with perhaps one exception. Benn Bennett's ill-advised Babooshka performance, in which he, while clad in a sarong nappy, slams an image of Kate into a rubbish bin full of broken glass for no apparent reason. The performers for the most part however treated the material well, keeping the camp comedy routine to a minimum and avoided falling into a Kate-karaoke situation, and overall put on a show worthy of such a rare talent.

lEIGh5

WHAT WAS PERFORMED:

Breathing

Ran Tan Waltz
Cloudbusting

Wow

Under The Ivy

Army Dreamers

Mother Stands For Comfort

This Woman's Work

Sat In Your Lap

Babooshka

In The Warm Room

Kashka from Baghdad

And Dream Of Sheep

Hounds Of Love

The Man With The Child In His Eyes

Running Up That Hill

Wuthering Heights

Joe McKee (Snowman) live in Melbourne, 2012

Venue: The Grace Darling

Date: August 11

After breaking away from the grand and ghoulish Snowman, former frontman Joe McKee has found a more subtle form of expression as a solo artist. While his old band expertly drew listeners in using suspense and tribal drumming as its main weapons of seduction, in his new incarnation, loops and well-pronounced vowels do all the work. As an environment, the Grace provides buckets of support for Joe’s Burning Boy solo album launch, which tonight is attended by a comfortable – for that sized room - number of punters. The stage, merely a foot off the floor, feels less like a forced focal point but rather just a place for Joe to stand. Casually he glides on and off his cramped quarters and through the crowd when the mood suits him in order to sidle up close to a fan as his looped guitar shimmys away, never out-ranking the deep, sombre vocal in volume.

In these kinds of intimate performances, it’s not unusual for my attention to wander and fixate on some insignificant prop or even the movement of the performer’s feet as they jab at guitar peddles, but McKee had me and everyone in my immediate view hanging on every note sung. Even when fronting the raucous Snowman though, Joe has always displayed an effortless ability to draw you in and make all else melt away.

This fact is helped by several well defined staples of McKee’s performance. Firstly, he mixes with his audience mid-song, while still retaining that important sense of intrigue. Secondly, his band – a drummer, violinist and keyboardist - hop on stage only sporadically to add accompaniment and thirdly, he sounds out every word he sings, imploring us to listen. As a solo artist, Joe has slipped into the role of story teller, but even more so, he is exploring the power of words as sounds.

He understands that a deep resonant voice, which he possesses, drawing out every syllable can be just as powerful as any percussive instrument, and hold as much sway as the words themselves. I find myself held up by a lyric early in the set; “You just keep getting louder, while I fall into lunacy” where McKee’s seductive tone shifts suddenly into spine-chilling terrain, and any chance of an easy ride ‘polite singer/songwriter’ type gig is lost. Thankfully.

Perhaps the most remarkable thing about McKee’s show however is the complete lack of ceremony. Album launches are typically coupled with a sense of occasion, and maybe a ‘funny thing happened on the way to the studio’ story or two, but not this time. It’s as though McKee and his occasional backing band swept through the room on a wave and we all got caught up in it before being plopped back down again as it retreated out to sea. I left feeling as though I’d had my heart warmed and my bones chilled all at once. Pretty good result for a 45 minute set that featured all new, unknown material, I’d say. 

lEIGh5

Joe signed my CD, "You have great taste in music!" So humble!

The Pogues: live in Melbourne, 2012 (review)

Venue: Festival Hall

Date: 04/04

If there’s one holiday Australian’s truly get behind with gusto, it’s the celebration of St Patrick’s Day, and so having Celtic punk legends The Pogues in town was excuse enough for a mini-reprise of the festivities. Oversized green leprechaun hats, Irish sport shirts, endless shamrocks and the guff of whiskey breath fills Festival hall, along with the general rowdiness of your local watering hole near closing time.
 

Being a Pogues gig – their first in Australia for 22 years – mass alcohol consumption is a given. The only question yet to be answered is who will be the most pissed; the fans or the band’s renowned lead singer, Shane MacGowan. Pogues concerts have never adopted the official warning; ‘show may conclude early depending on Shane’s ability to remain standing’, yet it is a real possibility as their touring history will support. Tonight we are treated firstly to the original eight-piece line-up who take to the stage as the sound of The Clash’s Straight To Hell fades over the PA, and finally an unhurried, slightly wobbly MacGowan, who emerges to a welcoming roar.
 

Before a note of music is even played, the man who has done nothing to remove the stereotype of the Irish drunk, is shouting erratically into his mic. “I can’t fuckin’ believe ish been twenny two fuckin’ yearsh, Melbourne….” He says, followed by some indecipherable mumbling, and finally, “Sorry about all the fuckin’ swearing.” He takes a defiant drag from a cigarette and grins broadly, revealing what little remains of his front teeth as the band burst into life with Streams Of Whiskey. In those 22 years, The Pogues have gone through many changes before arriving here on what is their retirement tour. MacGowan was booted out for his out-of-control behavior, and the band recorded one album without him - which remains their last studio set – before going into hibernation. No new music means of course tonight is all golden-era Pogues anthems, pulled mainly from Rum, Sodomy & The Lash and If I Should Fall From Grace With God.
 

Despite the ever popular Dirty Old Town and the rousing Fiesta, Australian fans are clearly in favour of The Band Played Waltzing Matilda, and begin calling for it not three songs into the set. Shane introduces the boozy sing-a-long classic, but nobody seems sure what he’s actually saying in regards to it, and nor do we care. The chance to link arms with total strangers and sway to its waltzy tempo, shouting the refrain is all that matters now. If you’re not among the great heaving all-in sway, then you’re one of the brave bastards at the front, dodging crowd surfers and angrily moshing, or avoiding the projectile spit drops leaping from MacGowan’s ravaged mouth. The momentum changes dramatically though as Shane suddenly leaves the stage, hurling the microphone onto the floor, leaving more than a few of us wondering, ‘is that it?’.
 

To be fair to MacGowan, he seems to be working hard on stage tonight and is as coherent as can be expected, but a brief exchange between himself and tin-whistle player (and one-time lead-singer) Spider Stacey, ends abruptly. The fray, it turns out was all bluff, yet the show reaches a turning point here. Spider Stacey reprises his one-time role as band leader for Tuesday Morning – the best non-MacGowan Pogues song – and the crowd, perhaps still wondering if Shane’s done a bunk, respond with folded arms. Personally, I love Tuesday Morning, and being the only person shouting his approval and pogoing around - I suddenly feel quite lonely in the packed venue. Thankfully, for the sake of recapturing the all-in atmosphere, MacGowan re-emerges - only this time he’s packing booze. Swigging from a bottle of red – most of which goes down his shirt, on the floor - and on the front row - he receives a bigger applause than his first appearance. It’s as though he’s suddenly complete in people’s eyes. The dribbling and shouting Shane is here at last but it’s hard to ignore the whole pantomime element to the sight. I guess some things are just too intertwined; Iggy Pop wouldn’t dare go on stage in a shirt, just as Pogues fans expect to see a certain amount of drunkenness for their dollar.
 

The playing-up-to-his-image thing is fine, but what surprises me is MacGowan is determined to make the songs sound good and is less concern with getting so smashed, that he sacrifice’s the ability to perform. It’s a big step for the man in my eyes, but maybe a let down for some here who perhaps were looking forward to a good first-hand Shane MacGowan crash and burn story, like what happened in the old days of the band. They’ve all learned a few lessons no doubt, but The Pogues still put on the best rabble at an age where many ‘former-greats’ are cranking out piss-weak covers album or flogging Time Life CD compilations on TV. The sight of a greying accordionist performing a stage-length knee-slide and a banjo being thrashed in the fashion of electric guitar still somehow suits this band of merry makers. It’s as though through playing Celtic-punk, they earn a golden pass to act anyway they please at whatever age. Besides, the encore consisting of Sally MacLennane, Rainy Night In Soho and Fiesta might well be one of the finest ever seen at Festival hall.

lEIGh5

FESTIVAL HALL SETLIST: 04/04/2012

Streams Of Whiskey

If I Should Fall From Grace With God

Broad Majestic Shannon

Greenland Whale Fisheries

A Pair Of Brown Eyes

Tuesday Morning

Kitty

Sunny Side Of The Street

Repeal of the Licensing Laws

The Band Played Waltzing Matilda

The Body Of An American

The Boys From County Hell

Thousands Are Sailing

Dirty Old Town

Bottle Of Smoke

Sickbed of Cuchulain

encore:

Sally MacLennane

A Rainy Night In Soho

The Irish Rover

Poor Paddy On The Railway

Fiesta

Johnette Napolitano live at The Famous Spiegeltent (Melbourne): 2012

Venue: Famous Spiegeltent

Date: 15/03

The Famous Spiegeltent, a 1920’s-era tent/saloon bar, complete with its original fittings is one of the last of its kind in the world. Images of Marlene Dietrich seducing a crowd of absinth-drinking bohemians or a thrilling display by trapeze artists come easy to the visitor, but its another ‘last of their kind’ that's pulled a full house tonight. As striking as the venue is to the eye, it’s a real effort to take one’s focus away from Johnette Napolitano even for a moment during her short but engaging show in this iconic setting.

Not a lot of performers take stock of their career highlights with the relish shown by Johnette Napolitano, nor do they display the respect she does for her fans, and importantly, her own material. When the Italian/American singer is on stage, she is guttural, fragile, fascinating and hilarious as she participates in a one woman show as though there were multiple characters/musicians around her and the distinction between ‘them’ and ‘us’ is forgotten. It is occasionally disarming to feel such a close bond with the artist as she is performing on stage, but Napolitano is a great communicator above all things and for this one-hour session at least, sat in a bar somewhere, each and every one of us feel the warmth and ease of old friends chatting.

Being an actual career retrospective, poetry reading and storytelling set, there’s an added emotional breadth to the show. The fact that the concert is so short is one of the sadder aspects to it when you consider Napolitano’s incredible voice, prolific solo work and the many years fronting Concrete Blonde. Her appeal above many of her American contemporaries though is the fact that unlike them, Napolitano is apparently devoid of any ego and acknowledges that proper hard work is required to maintain any kind of life in the spotlight. She feels no sense of entitlement, but considers fortunate to be able to scrape a living from performing. At this stage, her three-night residency in Melbourne - titled A Self Portrait: 2012 - suggests she has arrived at a point in her life that needed a line drawn under it. Her last visit to Melbourne was for the 20th anniversary of Concrete Blonde’s breakthrough album, Bloodletting in 2010, but these solo acoustic gigs are clearly much more personal affairs for her.

The shows are segmented into music, poetry and significant tales of her life thus far, coinciding with a book she’s written about her song’s back-stories. The ‘songs’ element to the concert range from her first ever written piece at aged twelve – a charming but ultimately sinister conversation between a frog and a fruitfly – to cover versions which have become Johnette standards, and of course plenty of Concrete Blonde material. The poetry is good if not a little hurried as Johnette skips over her hand written notes as though she is concerned she is boring us. (She’s not). And finally, there is the storytelling. “This one’s a drinking song….” She offers at one point. “Oh fuck what am I saying… They’re all drinking songs!” And so begins the tale of Joey, Concrete Blonde’s most famous track. The subject in Joey, Marc Moreland from LA new-wave band Wall Of Voodoo – and former Johnette squeeze - succumbed to his drinking, she recalls, as the show shifts – but doesn’t dwell - into a serious tone. Her recently deceased father also receives a poetic tribute, and it dawns that Napolitano’s energetic, sharp wit hides a good deal of personal sadness.

Further key moments in tonight’s show include a heart-stopping Wedding Theme which Napolitano wrote for the Heath Ledger film Candy. Performing it seems to bring the singer close to tears, yet with Jonette there are always the many laugh-out-loud moments to balance the mood. A spontaneous clap-along of Amy Winehouse’s Rehab during Take Me Home, for example adds a tongue-in-cheek angle to a somber, reflective song on excessive boozing. Also a roar of laughter follows Johnette’s mock anger at how ‘none of her friends drive fucking Porche’s… They’re always begging for lifts’ in an acapella cover of Janis Joplin’s Mercedes Benz. “Any requests?” Johnette asks finally from beneath her gigantic hat which barely hides her copious amount of long black hair. “Wendy!!!” Comes the unified reply from various points around the room. Unsurprising, as Tomorrow Wendy was many Australian’s first taste of Napolitano’s voice and the song’s impact has never abated.

Musician’s biographies usually focus on a few on the road hi-jinx, album sessions and in-band relationships, but often they make the reader feel like they are peeking into a foreign, unreachable world. But within one hour of doing her ‘live biography’, Johnette completely broke down the wall between artist and fan. Her openness itself makes her relatable. Even if most of us don’t live in the Mojave Desert, or front alternative rock bands, Johnette’s driven by the things that connect us all. Her parting words to her audience is a reassurance to everybody present, as well as herself, as though she knows instinctively what draws people to her music in the first place; “The sun will come out tomorrow and things will be better. I promise.”

lEIGh5

Roxette: live in Melbourne, 2012

Venue: Rod Laver Arena

Date: 18/02/2012

Swedish duo Roxette have endured as a pretty successful band for around 25 years, both here and around the world. However, somewhere along the line, attention to them waned in Australia, whose love for the band’s edgy pop/rock songs was unrelenting early on, evidenced by a string of top 40 hits between 1989 and 1993. The latest album, Charm School was released last year but with little local fanfare - just as the bulk of contemporary Roxette albums - so a ‘90s-heavy setlist is in order for the Swede’s first Aussie show in 17 years.

The songs selected for their current tour offered both an interesting peek into Roxette’s idea of what would best appease their Australian audiences, and what they themselves feel works best live. These two notions work to varying degrees of success in what is a tremendously fun, yet occasionally flawed concert. Considerable time is given to 1991 album, Joyride for example, which errs on the side of ‘too much’, while breakthrough set, Look Sharp is under-represented in a way. Later releases, Have A Nice Day and Room Service are all but forgotten, but the general polite applause offered to anything post 1994 possibly scared the band out of getting too clever with the set list. After all, the last time Roxette moved mass units here, it was in the form of cassingles sales – so naturally they drew a full crowd of fans who see them as more a nostalgia act. Energetic guitarist/songwriter, Per Gessle – looking in exquisite shape for his age – accepts this fact; “We’re going to play a few songs off our new album Charm School…. (muted response) but mostly we’re gonna be playing all your favourite Roxette classics!” (thunderous applause.) 

Perhaps Roxette are a nostalgia act in terms of ‘when they had hits’, but you can hardly call their later material a weak by comparison. 2011 single, She’s Got Nothing On (But The Radio) is pure pop heaven, showing only the tiniest shift to what we might call an ‘updated sound’ for a band who never really change what they do, and hey why would they… the formula works. Aside from the songs, the band is also highly functional – most are the original touring line-up from the early days - and it shows in their polished precision. For many here tonight though it’s all about that platinum blonde chick with the incredible voice that so many mistakenly referred to as Roxette herself; Marie Fredriksson. In concert, Marie is all about poise and delivery. She can do intimate, she can do subtle, she can soar and she can even roar when required. Even still, the plucky, white-funk of Dressed For Success proves to be a bastard to sing. Marie is at an age where her vocal range is gradually lowering therefore, the songs she sang as a 20 year-old are not going to be resplendent with the all up-and-down-the-scale glory.

These changes to familiar songs are at first jarring but over the course of the show, that slightly rougher vocal style becomes enchanting. Several times, as if to highlight Fredricksson’s deeper register, the band bow out and allow her to sing accapella for a few bars and it never fails to impress. A run of back-to-back power ballads gives Marie further chance to shine but Roxette are always a greater option when she and Gessle duet. How Do You Do!, Joyride and Dangerous lift the roof with the power of their combined voices and you wonder why they don’t just make ‘em all like that. Marie’s own It Must Have Been Love - which gets a wordy introduction as the song that ‘paved their way to Hollywood’ – suddenly makes perfect sense in an arena-proportioned building. Then just as the pleasant, uplifting vibrations seem to be in unending quantities, the pre-encore exodus is upon us - and I do mean exodus. For a hundred or so fans, the best bits have already been and gone, so either they’ve never been to a concert before or the babysitter’s about to start earning overtime. Us left behind are dealt an almost wonderful Listen To Your Heart - which sadly never quite gets off the ground - and a bizarre Church Of Your Heart, which just sounds a bit too Sunday school sing-a-long church-y weirdness making it a bit of a soggy blanket among an otherwise well chosen set. Still, it feels wrong picking fault with Roxette, especially after a storming, The Look which concluded the main set. Basically, we were witness to one of the finest bands in their field, especially when you consider many of the subsequent rubbish acts who now represent the Europop scene. Even if their time is past, Roxette at least remind us of a really fantastic time in pop music, when the composers/song writers were also the performers and the reality TV schlock was still unheard of. This alone makes it a time worth revisiting and even relishing.

lEIGh5

ROD LAVER SET-LIST, 18/02/12

Dressed For Success

Sleeping In My Car

The Big L

I Wish I Could Fly

Only When I Dream

She's Got Nothing On (But The Radio)

Perfect Day

Things Will Never Be The Same

It Must Have Been Love

7Twenty7

Fading Like A Flower

Crash! Boom! Bang!
How Do You Do

Dangerous

Joyride

Watercolours In The Rain

Spending My Time

The Look

encore:

Listen To Your Heart

Church Of Your Heart

New Order: live in Melbourne, 2012 (review)

Venue: Festival Hall

Date: 01/03/2012

Increasingly desperate shouts of “C’mon!” punctuates each chorus of Love Will Tear Us Apart, as New Order reach the end of their first Australian concert in 11 years. Front man, Bernard Sumner wants us to show him exactly how much we love the song and how much we’ve missed his band. His enthusiastic cry is stunning and muscular, as it may well be. After all, Joy Division’s swan song will forever be a significant marker in New Order’s career. But their set tonight is nothing but continual proof of how much the band achieved subsequently, and is presented as a chance for them to share every mile stone – beautifully framed and hung - with their unwavering supporters.

The framing in this case is the fascinating visual projections accompanying each song. Film producer Michael Shamberg and graphic artist Peter Saville gave New Order’s music a very specific identity and here these songs and images combine to transport us to the heart of the Hacienda dance floor, sometime in the mid-1980s. The band manage the near impossible and deftly shift the atmosphere in Festival Hall like some alien race adapting its environment after a hostile take over. Resistance is not an option worth entertaining either. “Sorry about the weather…” Sumner apologises at one point, ”it feels a lot like home tonight.” As the words leave his mouth, vintage video footage of the band playing an early show in the actual Hacienda suddenly fill the screen, and they launch into a “never played live before” Here To Stay. The film, 24 Hour Party People told the whole story of the Hacienda’s importance to the Manchester scene; but the venue had significance enough for New Order to be immortalized in song. New Order’s true celebration of their past begins at this point - albeit in reverse order - but then there are also those bits of their past they’d rather soon forget.
 

In all the pre-tour media, as expected the focus was on matters of new band members (bassist Tom Chapman and guitarist Phil Cunningham) and the absence of Peter Hook. Its hardly the elephant in the room, but Sumner addresses it all the same tonight, “Oh look, we’ve got a new base player... How about that?” We cheer and welcome the slightly altered line-up, and if any Hooky die-hards are here tonight, they’re keeping pretty quiet. Chapman (Hook’s stand-in) chugs through the set with all the precision and fat riffs the songs were built on, smashing any worries that ‘it wouldn’t be the same without him’. There are plenty more standard New Order-isms in place to distract from the absent Hook and his famous low-slung bass stance anyway. A recently returned Gillian Gilbert is frozen behind her keyboard, serenely jabbing out those renowned melodies in apparent deep concentration; the very picture of familiarity. Sumner is bopping his head, eyes closed as he sings into a mic held delicately by one hand; as all images of him in concert will support. These details, along with a distinctly retro light show bring so much warmth on this wet, drizzly night.

The set is packed with carefully chosen ‘signature hits’ from start to finish, but the strong start – Elegia, Crystal, Regret – sees only sporadic pockets of dancing from the cross-generational crowd. It’s True Faith at the midway point that finally brings the crowd to full, pulsing life, while Bizarre Love Triangle starts the closest thing to a mosh pit seen all night. It’s during this track I notice members of System Of A Down watching motionless from the side of the stage, casually chewing bubble gum, perhaps even harbouring a little envy after their own lackluster Soundwave sideshow show the night before. New Order, despite being a much older band, never sound tired or careless with the material. Sumner’s never been the most powerful vocalist, but following a fantastic 1963, he gives himself a mental pat on the back for striking ever note. “That was the best one so far tonight, I think.” He grins. The audience might argue that point though – Temptation as with True Faith is a clear favourite, still sounding incredibly fresh at 31 years-old, although it takes a good minute to become familiar. Many of the older tracks have been sharpened up, extended and even remixed with the help of some sweet advances in live electronic music re-creation, but the focus never really drifts too far from the ‘live band’ sound.

They are going to close with you-know-what, but after a brief exodus, New Order return to the stage in silhouette for an encore which is still loaded with expectations. Blue Monday’s juddering beats begin from out of nowhere. The stage is in darkness except for an animated orb roving around the drop screen, and on cue, the audience clap in time. Sumner finally emerges to join the others, just as his vocal part is scheduled to begin and blue light saturates every corner of the hall. For the moment I’m all goose-bumps, and believe me it’s not cold in here. Blue Monday’s in-concert life actually began in Australia on the band’s 1983 tour where it was first ‘road tested’. I can’t help thinking its debut was a huge hit with local crowds even back then, otherwise would we even be chanting its haiku-like verses three decade later? Thanks to things such as setlist.fm, we knew there was no second encore coming, so the final applause seemed unfittingly brief.

Having grown up knowing New Order’s later material first, I was still left with the feeling that this was as authentic an experience of a ‘classic New Order show’ as anyone could want. Maybe they’re a few kilos heavier, and they’ve tidied up their sound and lost a member or two, but nothing about this concert spelled desperate last stab at relevance. If anything, the celebration of their musical history was indicative of a bright future at a stage in their career where there is no certainty at all beyond this tour. Here’s hoping the show was as good for them as it was for us and it isn’t long before we get to party with New Order like its 1989 all over again.

lEIGh5
 

FESTIVAL HALL SET-LIST:

Elegia

Crystal

Regret

Ceremony

Age Of Consent

Here To Stay

Krafty

1963

Bizarre Love Triangle

True Faith

5-8-6

The Perfect Kiss

Temptation

encore:

Blue Monday

Love Will Tear Us Apart

Noel Gallagher's High Flying Birds: live in Melbourne, 2012 (review)

Venue: The Palais

Date: 31/01

Re-emerging only last year with a new band - The High Flying Birds - and whole new set of songs, the elder of Oasis’ Gallagher brothers, Noel set himself the unenviable task of starting from scratch. Although most of the songs on the High Flying Birds’ album were written in 2008 while Noel was still in Oasis, his writing more than hinted at a severing of old ties. 2011 single, the no-hold’s barred The Death Of You And Me, heralded Noel’s new life as a solo artist, and showed a promising, more purposeful direction than most latter day Oasis. Of the new tracks, which are spread equally throughout ‘the classics’ tonight at his Melbourne Big Day Out sideshow, none can be written off as mere ‘Oasis-lite’ rehashing. Still, expectations for Noel’s solo gig were pretty moderate for me I confess.

Would the shadow of Oasis hang heavily over proceedings, as a half-full arena of disgruntled fans just mark time until Wonderwall? Well as it turns out, not even close. Gallagher is the very picture of the fabled phoenix from the ashes of his old band. Standing before us drenched in red and blue lights, age defiant was a possibly even more cocky Noel than the one who once celebrated a life of ‘cigarette’s and alcohol’. Tonight, he confidently reminds all who had forgotten how brilliant a performer he actually is, and how many bloody good songs he’s written. In place of the geezer trying to relive the glory days I half expected, was a master showman proving you can’t beat experience - fuck knows, nothing has beaten Noel Gallagher.

Following a standing ovation on his arrival, Gallagher kicks off with (It’s Good) To Be Free, and the choice is a master stroke. This old b-side, which has surely taken on new meaning for Gallagher in recent times, gains an immediate reaction from the packed in crowd who seem determined to match Gallagher and his band in volume. Its all the warm up he and his audience need too, as the show’s momentum and crowd response continue to elevate – especially once Gallagher wonders aloud ‘why is everyone sitting down?’ As we all gladly surrender our comfort, the band delivers a run of six tracks from High Flying Birds’ debut, each a triumph of thrilling, edge-of-your-seat rock. If High Flying Birds remind me of Oasis at all, then it’s the best elements of serendipitous sophomore (What’s The Story) Morning Glory and bust-up album, Dig Out Your Soul, which tellingly was recorded at the same time High Flying Birds was taking shape. If I Had A Gun ranks closest to ‘the Oasis sound’, offering a peak into what might have been, and also a ‘last look back’ moment before the brand new as-yet-unreleased, Freaky Teeth.

Midway through, and the electric guitar makes way for an acoustic and Noel’s band depart, leaving only him and keyboardist, Mike Rowe. Tuning up, Noel reads the crowd for a moment and gets a cheer. “Who was Saint Kilda?” He yells, while strumming something familiar. “It’s not in the Bible – I’ve checked.” Out of the laughter, a fan offers; “She was a prostitute!” Noel scoffs in return, “You’re a fucking prostitute, mate.” The laughter soon turns to cheers as Whatever (I’m Free) is suddenly upon us, along with the customary sing-a-long. The already up mood inside the Palais plateaus and Noel draws the moment out with a stunning, stripped back rendition of Supersonic - Oasis’s debut single which although has been ‘re-imagined’ still holds its power as one of the most fun songs Gallagher ever wrote.

We then welcome the rest of the band back on stage for the 'most fun' song High Flying Birds have in their cannon – (I Wanna Live In A Dream In My) Record Machine. Noel’s all about momentum tonight, he’s brought his audience up and is determined to keep us there. The second set seems to fly by, as each carefully chosen song forms a kind of ‘greatest hits’ package. New gems such as Soldier Boys and Jesus Freaks meld into unsung classics, Half A World Away and Talk Tonight. The many ex-pat Brits in the audience, hoarse from belting out the words along with Noel, near topple over each other in a bid to shower praise on the man as the triple banger encore comes around. Little By Little, The Importance of Being Idle and closer, Don’t Look Back In Anger made their homes long ago in the hearts of Brit-pop fans at closing time sing-a-longs and blurry-eyed cab rides home. Tonight, Gallagher’s fans share with their idol the fondness each and every one of them hold for these songs. Noel knows to not even bother singing on Don’t Look Back In Anger – the entire audience unite in a roof-raising effort all their own – and Gallagher’s uncharacteristic grin speaks volumes in its own right, as he enjoys a momentous end to a show by one of the classiest come-back's in recent times. Nice one, 'our kid'.

lEIGh5

THE PALAIS SET-LIST, 31/01/2012

(It's Good) To Be Free

Mucky Fingers

Everybody's On The Run

Dream On

If I Had A Gun

The Good Rebel

The Death Of You And Me

Freaky Teeth
Whatever (I'm Free)
Supersonic

(I Wanna Live In A Dream In My) Record Machine

What A Life!

Talk Tonight

Soldier Boys and Jesus Freaks

Broken Arrow

Half The World Away

The Wrong Beach

encore:

Little By Little

The Importance of Being Idle

Don't Look Back In Anger

Foster The People: live in Melbourne, 2012 (review)

Venue: The Palace

Date: 30/01

There are way more kicks on offer at a Foster The People gig than the Pumped Up kind, the lads prove at thier Melbourne Big Day Out side-show. In concert, L.A.’s Foster The People run a tight ship, showing great care and precision in each and every song’s delivery. At this stage, their relatively short set must feel deeply familiar following an intense year of touring debut album Torches, yet there are no signs of fatigue or boredom from the guys. It’s easy to see the love for these songs in the band’s faces as much as it is in the packed Palace audience’s. For me, 2011 belonged to Foster The People. I knew looking around at my fellow punters, almost everybody there surely felt that same euphoric joy as I did on first discovering this band. Listening to Torches was a sharp reminder that something quite prominent had been missing from music in a general sense. Here was an album that by-passed any kind of current trend and instead declared a most antiquated purpose: music to bring people together.

Yes, Foster The People with each sample and percussion-heavy track, serve up a big spoonful of Summer of Love - California style. The utmost contemporary, tricked out keyboard/sample pads favoured by, well almost every band and his dog, are somehow sweeter in the hands of Foster and their freelovin’ vibe. Vibe is the key word here though; peel away the layers and lyrically, very few of the bands songs would stand up to scrutiny in the Woodstock poetry tent. Houdini, being a possible exception, reminds us to ‘focus on your ability’ and break out from our ‘shackles’, and tonight as the set opener, is so mood enhancing, it may as well be sold as a prescription drug. There’s more’ happy-power’ in that one song than a Flaming Lips encore, and the metre very rarely dips below ‘stupidly happy’ from then on.

Even the bands few mid-tempo songs (Miss You, Waste) evoke enthused bouncing sing-a-longs, and its on those tracks especially the band allow themselves to really freak out and break from their recorded counterparts. Miss You descends into a wall of percussion, recalling Nine Inch Nails’ March Of The Pigs, boosted by frantic strobing as singer Mark Foster leaps from his seat at the keyboard to batter a huge tom lumped in front of drummer Mark Pontius’ kit. Throughout the whole gig, when the two Mark’s aren’t vibing of each other as duel drummers, Foster is on guitar, fret to fret with bassist Cubbie Fink or head-banging hunched over his sampler. The man doesn’t rest, switching as he does between various instrument duties, all while conducting the audience in sing-a-long. Indeed Mark Foster can add sublime showmanship to his already full bag of tricks, and frankly the determination he displays to connect with all who come to see his band shows up many a live act as detached and lazy.

Aside from playing every track from Torches, they cover Weezer’s Say It Ain’t So; “because I taught Pumped Up Kicks to River from Weezer one night a party, and they started covering it in their shows!” Mark reveals. Naturally it sounds better than the original, thanks to the the addition of the Foster ‘stamp of fun’ but I was more than happy for them to get back to playing their own tunes. Namely, Helena Beat which concludes the main set in grandiose style and damnit all if Mark’s vocals don’t sound so much better live than on the recording. It’s an unusual singing voice he’s packing, with frequent falsetto parts, whistling and near-whispered refrains here and there, he’s nothing if not dynamic. All of these aforementioned stylings of course come together on the highly anticipated encore.

Pumped Up Kicks was the song that gave rise to what began as Mark’s bedroom muck-about project and ultimately landed him global top billing on the festival circuit. Tonight, predicting the reaction to the song, FTP tweak out a couple of extra minutes of ‘sing-it-back’ time from the heaving crowd. Shifting the song’s tempo suddenly from ‘Ministry of Sound club mix’ to ‘Linkin Park earnest head-bang’, they somehow make the whole thing work, while retaining the swagger of the original as the audience continue to shout the refrain long after Mark has stepped back from the mic to take it all in; a rare moment of stillness for the singer, who deftly steps into the front row, held aloft by countless hands where he remains grinning until the houselights switch on and his band exits the stage. He knows it’s been a good gig. He knows he gave his best and the fans were united with him in that. How thrilling it is to see a band so full of confidence in their music, and ability to perform it, yet remain totally devoid of arrogance. Simply brilliant.

lEIGh5

All photos by Narelle Pfitzner.

*

PALACE SET-LIST, 30/01/12:

Houdini

Miss You

Life On The Nickel

I Would Do Anything For You

Broken Jaw

Waste

Call It What You Want

Don't Stop (Colour On The Walls)
Say It Ain't So 

Helena Beat

encore:

Ruby 

Warrant

Pumped Up Kicks