Perhaps the Jive promoters were sending a subtle hint choosing a communist print as the door stamp, as Friday evening undoubtedly belonged to Adelaide favourites Tyger Tyger as they took the stage to sing, swill beer, exploit a generous bar tab and launch their new EP Come Like 1000 Doves with tyrannical force.
Serving as the warm-up for the evening we had ambient prog-rockers Billy Bishop Goes To War*. A decent effort from these guys, not to mention their luck in Jive denying upstairs entry during their set resulting in a jam-packed moshpit to perform to.
Second serving for the evening Zeta were a pleasant surprise on the bill. Spinning out an upbeat garage-rock infused set for the night, this Fender equipped foursome is a group to watch. Fronting the stage was Brandon Boyd and Thurston Moore’s lovechild donned in Chuck Taylors, Zeta’s own lead vocalist and guitarist Sascha. And here, ladies in gents, is what I like to call an Adelaide one-man rock show. He headbanged, he scuffed his shoes, and – according to a veteran punter who assured me he had seen this happen in their previous shows –his fingers were bloodied and bruised after performing with post-gig frenzy. But not to accredit one sole man, the second vocalist and guitarist had a damn good voice too and their set was tight, neat and well-suited to the music theme of the night. Based on performance alone, this group passed with top marks. It was absolutely refreshing to see a band and its front-man perform with such a natural ebb and flow on the Jive stage – a rare live show quality the venue rarely sees.
Next up we have the men of the hour coming like a thousand doves to the stage – Tyger Tyger Let me recap the visual aesthetics of this band. On one corner of the stage we have a Mars Volta clone in his father’s 70’s Woodstock shirt, on the other corner a drummer in a 90’s iconic “Red Bulls” singlet, a button-nosed vocalist with a not quite emo side fringe and a bassist who scarily resembles Raoul Duke with skeezy brown shades. With all them on stage, the best way to describe the Tyger outfit as a whole is that a time-machine was thrown in somewhere between recording Come Like 1000 Doves and the EP launch and blew up, resulting in a flotsam and jetsam of fashion eras. Regardless of their contrasting appearances, from the minute they strummed the first notes and cranked into their trademark bongo percussion, their stage presence blended together into one big beautiful Tyger mesh.
Opening with popularised Myspace track Play Rough, front-man Travis Williamson positioned himself at the front of the stage with microphone in hand to sing of sex, partying and the Contraceptive Pill – with the occasional joke thrown in for good measure. “What do you call a black man being chased by a fuckload of white men? Tiger Woods,” he yarns, before the group launch into new single Artifical Dreamz. Although a tumbleweed may have rolled past during Williamson’s joke, the rudeness that followed through to the next song was both annoying and disrespectful. I found myself straining to catch onto guitarist *Nick Bastiras*’ riffs during Artifical Dreamz, a softer song from the Tyger lads, as all I could hear during this charming ballad was the titter of drunken punters. An apt song choice later, Tyger Tyger were back in the spotlight. The lads really got the crowd bouncing around for this one, jamming out an interesting combination of throbbing percussion, Latino-style trumpet squeals and Williamson’s profound Australian accent (perhaps Williamson’s constant to-and-fro sidesteps were secretly some kind of enchanting heathen dance). Other favourites played included Front Seat Of My Car and newcomer single Come Like 1000 Doves.
Rounding up an energetic set with local favourite One More Beer, the sextet polished off their EP launch with a triumphant finish – Williamson’s rock God arms-reaching-to-the-heavens actions ensued. Good job all round from all bands and a nice full-house from Jive, we can look forward to more EP launches in the future – and just perhaps an album – from this group of funk rockers. That is if they stop fooling around with girls in the front seats of their cars for long enough to record one.
