Spun Rivals, The Good China,Matt Storey @ The Tote(18/02/09)

Thu 19th Feb, 2009 in Gig Reviews

‘Hi, my name’s Matt and I’m not The Good China’. Err. Okay. No he’s not. But he’s still pretty darn good. Actually, he’s better than good – he’s very talented and has a dopey, apologetic stage presence that makes him instantly likeable. It’s not often that you get a 8pm one-man acoustic show at The Tote that can keep an audience silent and captivated. Especially when everyone is excepting The Good China to be opening tonight’s ceremonies.

Matt Storey is apparently a perfectionist and has thus not realised his EP yet because he wanted it to be just that – perfect. He continuously apologises for his little stuff ups, complaining that Rich, the lead singer of headliner Spun Rivals and one of his best mates, has drawn a cock and balls on his set list and he’s finding it distracting. Matt lets us play choose-your-own-adventure, giving us choices between ‘should I have a crack at the one I stuffed up, or play the one that I haven’t finished?’. Rich quickly suggested that he ‘stuff up the one that you haven’t finished’. Now that’s love.

Well he stuffed up the former again so didn’t get more than a verse through, but the latter song that he claimed was half-finished was easily the deal-maker for the converting crowd. Raw and unpolished, he had to hum a third verse that didn’t exist just to make the song hit the two minute mark. But what a remarkable two minutes.

So where was The Good China? Apparently Young Lovers had cancelled earlier that day, so Matt was roped in last minute eight hours earlier, The Good China were moved up a slot, and Spun Rivals would see out their Wednesday residency as per usual. Right…

The Good China are fresh off learning that they had won St Kilda Festival’s New Music competition, meaning that they get $5,000 which they are putting towards their first EP, and the opportunity to open the festival in 2010 on the main stage. The quality of bands this year was exceptional, with local favourites such as Ryan Meeking and The Few and Johnny Rock and The Limits playing, so this award really does reflect their talent to turn out a KILLER show.

If you are yet to hear of The Good China, they are often compared to a cross between Arcade Fire (TGC’s Whistles is especially evocative of No Cars Go) and earlier Architecture in Helsinki (none of this more recent 80s-synth revival sound from Laneway). And despite wanting to draw a more original comparison, I think that this really hits the nail on the proverbial head. With eight people on stage at any one time, and bringing in instruments as diverse as melodica, recorders, clarinets and a glockenspiel, you are constantly stimulated.

It is hard to talk about the band in reference to what instruments they play, because they all play around three. Lead vocals are taken on by six of the eight members, everyone picks up a guitar or a banjo at some point, three people attempt the drums, and there are a hell of a lot of maracas floating around on stage. It isn’t perhaps the most unusual instrument to have onstage in this era of baroque-pop, but Queyen’s finger numbing electric violin really does soar over the top off the band’s brilliance. They obviously all show their talent and versatility as performers, but the arpeggios that get played across those four strings make me giddy with excitement.

Female vocals are fearlessly led by Mit, who wields her stunning vibrato through her piercingly controlled voice, especially in the bridge of 39 Black; but Cara and Queyen also round out the smooth harmonies in foot-tappers like Couch Song. The boys probably bare the grunt of the lead singing though, with four members taking the centre mike over their nine song set. Their distinctive different vocal styles make The Good China seem even more diverse, if I even thought that possible.

However, one of the problems that you have when there are eight people in your band is that you are eight times more likely to have one of your instruments fuck up. And when you all play at least three instruments each, that makes you 24 times more likely to fuck up. So naturally, fuck up it did. Yet despite a very temperamental kick pedal, phantom microphones and a somewhat essential acoustic guitar, the sense on stage looked like glorious organised chaos. It’s a pity that this was their last show for a little while due to jet-setting members, but watch this space. I haven’t been this excited about a new band in a long time.

We now know the disadvantages of having eight band members, but here’s one of the advantages: their shows are always packed with friends. I overheard Matt and Rich from Spun Rivals speaking just before their set – ‘Hey Rich, I think I know how to get more people coming to our shows. Let’s just get eight more band members, make sure they’re in uni, and BAM! Instant crowd!’. And unfortunately, this turned out to be a self-fulfilling prophecy. Cum the start of their set, the jingling and jangling crowd had disappeared, leaving a hole roughly half the size of the MCG in front of the stage.

Which was a pity, because Spun Rivals put on a hell of a show. Sounding like The Vasco Era at the beginning of their set, but moving more towards an edgier Brit pop/rock at the end, you could sense their excitement on stage. They knew that they were playing a ripper gig.

Not keeping to their set list at all, they played by the seats of their tight pants. Opening with 1998, Rich was so energetic that I thought he was going to give himself a concussion every time he scaled an amp. After working out that he probably couldn’t play while unconscious, he decided to take his ripping guitar solos onto the amps that jutted out of the stage like little peninsulas. Yet he was playing to an empty sea – more than half of the audience was gone. Not that he cared. He just rocked on.

They were running an interesting idea for a residency gimmick – there was a ‘suggestion’ box up the back of the venue. But instead of writing ‘you’re shite, fuck off’ like Rich suggested we not, he asked us to request a song that we wanted to hear covered the following week. As long as it wasn’t The Bangles. Apparently the week before it was Little Red (imagine The Clash trying to play Misty ...) and this week it was time for The White Stripes. With Clayton, their bass/keys man, moving to the drums, Matt came forward to pick up the guitar that he claimed that he had ‘never played’. Lyrics in hand, Rich and the boys ripped through an understandably shaky version of Fell in Love With a Girl . Albeit, it was entertaining watching them look terrified.

Taking a cue from Mr. Jack White, everything started to get a little more rockish after that, culminating in their finale performance of Good Lookin. The song was quite a stretch from the start of the set, but I probably enjoyed it the most – Clayton went just a little nuts, jumping into the crowd with his extra long bass lead, and wrapping us up in it like a sheepdog rounding up the herd. Then it was back onstage to roll around in the effects pedals, sending them flying offstage, pulling the keyboard crashing down on top of himself, and STILL managing to maintain some air of composure at the end.

With a chunk of the band hailing from Edinburgh, they infused the space with that distinctive live performance presence that is reminiscent of Franz Ferdinand. Let’s hope that they get a full crowd at their last show of their residency next Wednesday, because I want to see them in their vibrating totality. That and I requested Modest Mouse in the suggestion box, and I reckon that they would do an awesome rendition of The View. Fingers crossed.