Thanks to some serious road works on the part of the RTA, I didn’t make it to the Hopetoun in time to catch the first set of the night by Sideways Hitchhiker. From the shout-outs given to them from the other bands on the bill, it sounded like I missed a dang good set from the local three-piece grunge act.
Tennis were faffing around on stage when I got to the Hopetoun, setting up their army of accompaniment which included the talented keyboardist turned hand clapper/tambourine shaker/percussionist. The sound of Tennis is Bloc Party being beaten up by The Strokes. They chop and change, making it difficult to become bored of their songs. The stand out song for me was These Kids, sung by the normally backing vocals-only guitarist.
Adelaidians turned Melbournites Skye Harbour were a big sound for the little Hopetoun, which made the punters stop talking about work and life, and crowd around the stage. One scary looking older lady in a pink dress was even doing jumping jacks and the running man. Ah, the joys of alcohol indulgence. Vocalist Josh Hardy leads the five-piece through their pop electro rock set with strength and charisma, and it is easy to dance along to their originally executed yet strangely familiar material.
Headliners Ballet Imperial had the largest crowd of the night, including the return of scary woman in pink. She seemed to initially put off vocalist/synth player Jamie Timony, until he saw the funny side of things and put effort into converting the rest of the crowd into dancing fools. Ship in Distress had the crowd swaying to the irregular drum beats courtesy of Angus McLaren, which kept the ballad from becoming bland. The repeating outro got stuck in your head for the rest of the set. Franz Ferdinand -y Superhuman, with its dirty guitar, showed a grittier side of their pop rock. However, it still boasted light and dark shades and great backing vocals from Jeffrey Walker.
One Heart Is Not Enough was delivered with raw feeling, but was lost on the crowd, who chose to chat while the band poured out emotion after emotion to the thankless punters. The ballad is simple in its statement and its stripped back keys, and could have worked to a more receptive audience. Ballet Imperial’s last song was all rock and roll, with the synth taken off its stand and played while rolling around on the floor. The crowd cheered and clapped to the dying sounds of the distortion. And, after a quick plug of their EP, they were gone.
