As it was still early days, there wasn’t much of a crowd to witness the talents of up and coming Melbourne group Bachelor of Arts. Fresh from a month-long residency at Old Bar, they served up a tasty angular mix of older material and songs from their new album. Clad in black, with haircuts just as angular as their sound and more than a passing resemblance to the night’s headliners, their set hinted at what was to come.
Young and Restless were an interesting choice as stage-warmers, with their sound and energy more akin to the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s than the Joy Division and Mark E. Smith stylings of These New Puritans. But what a stroke of lineup brilliance it turned out to be. Frontwoman Karina Utomo howls, yowls and assaults the increased crowd with perfectly timed Karen O outbursts like a banshee that has been let loose with a stage presence and leather jacket to be reckoned with. Thanking the “nice Melbourne gathering” that has shown up, before launching into another noisy pop gem, with drummer Nugie Utomo and guitarist Josh Weller pounding and pummelling to get the room shuffling along, it’s evident why they won the Triple J Unearthed competition not so long ago.
With the vibe and mood visibly shifting after such an energetic set, the fashionable crowd eagerly awaited the Southend-on-Sea upstarts with the between-set’s DJ providing tunes from the likes of LCD Soundsystem to whet their appetites. The conscious intellectual and mathematical aesthetic of These New Puritans is characterised by the enigmatic frontman Jack Barnett, the man behind the conceptual Beat Pyramid album. Appearing on stage as a shiny medieval armoured fish (perhaps a slight exaggeration, but nonetheless an image that is fitting for the band’s art-rock leanings) and opening with Swords of Truth, the tempo set by Young and Restless is matched, although with the emphasis lessened on ferocity and more on intricate, almost mathy arrangements and beats. Driving basslines complete the pattern, with full marks going to bassist Thomas Hein. Jack Barnett’s repetitive lyrics provide a parallel rhythm to his twin brother George Barnett’s stop-start and disconcerting percussion. The best examples of this combination were Numbers, the opening bars, with its insistent drums and guitar a crowd favourite, sparking some impromptu dancing from the front of the stage. One of the lead singles, En Papier, translated well live, a jubilant number, with the catchy chorus still lodged in the brain a few days later.
Jack Barnett is not one for banter or stage antics, focusing instead on his rambling, albeit educated, lyrics that shine with an urgency on songs like ₤4. Unfortunately, maybe due to the acoustics of the room, or that the crowd turnout was a bit lower than expected, the sound got a little lost in certain parts, and made it difficult to make out a lot of the lyrics. Then again, even on the album, not all of the lyrics are easily deciphered. With this in mind, the easy paced pop of Costume wound up the night, adding another depth and layer, signalling that Barnett has more than a few tricks up his sleeve. The set was over quite soon, with most of the songs being rather short, but all the more sweet for it. We will definitely hear from this boundary dwelling band again, if the potential of the night’s performance is anything to go by.
