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YOUNG HEARTS FAIL
Which I bet is just the kind of receptive audience THIS band has always dreamed of, silently dreaded, and penned contingency plans for: involving synchronised suicide pills and a weapons platform nuking this entire city from orbit, the minute THESE baboons breach containment. Or in other words watch the closing scenes of this youtube, followed by the closing frames of this infamous episode of Spoz’s Rant I wrote back in January 2007 and put two and two together. Yup, this what Young Hearts Fail have to look forward to at The Crown & Anchor! Wow.. who knew they would ever meet in the same sentence!? Need we remind everyone what happened when Zeta played here last year? or Tony Font Show? or Robotosaurus!? Indeed, it truly takes a grim resolve to face off against such a bloodthirsty mob as this one and come out the other end relatively unscathed. I really didn’t think they had the “stones” for it; and yet against all odds they’ve proven me wrong. Xixi Cao: lead singer of Young Hearts Fail, like Noodle from The Gorillaz crossfaded with Tripitaka from Monkey Magic, and here she is smiling and waving!? It’s true. There’s no shitscared stage fright here tonight. She’s the voice of an angel, the voice of a teeny tiny balloon pissing out air. She holds this crowd captivated, squinting, necks craned, hands cupped to ears in awe wondering just what the FUCK she is singing but the magic is there! She owns this stage in every way you think she wouldn’t. She stops the beast dead in its track. Young Hearts Fail. In the simplest of terms they’re EXACTLY like Interpol in all their apocalyptic gloom (down to the smallest detail) fronted by what appears to be Juanita Stein from The Howling Bells, shrunk to the size of an insect, suffering an asthma attack. It’s utterly asphyxiating and blissfully claustrophobic. It’s song after song dragging you under and drowning you in those blackening waters. It’s that feeling you get if you cross The Cure’s “Disintegration” with a John Hughes movie. Terrifying I know, and yet they’re making it work! For the first time EVER tonight I can actually hear her voice, or wait.. maybe I’m imagining it? (or maybe she’s the grim reaper in human form and maybe THIS is why she appears so calm!?) either way.. whoaaa! They may continue to be a chasmic divide between the bittersweet symphony on their myspace and the shrinking violets you’ll see vanish into a tiny squiff of air on stage; but tonight’s set proves they’ve got REAL potential to kill!

KYTES OF OMAR
Our second band tonight should be more than familiar to anyone who’s ever gathered around the exit signs of the Crown & Anchor moments after closing time. They’re what crawls out moments before the Hazmat teams burst in with the flamethrowers and chainsaws. They’re what survives a nuclear war, a zombie apocalypse, a pandemic outbreak, an alien invasion, an army of mechanised Arnold Schwarzeneggers or anything else that the combined forces of Michael Bay, James Cameron and Roland Emmerich could see fit to throw at us during “popcorn season” and all without our skulls exploding? Yup that’s right, they’re the musical equivalent of a cockroach (or more accurately a “sasquatch” in the case of their lead singer Anthony). Sure you may be laughing now, but when Unicron The Planet Destroyer devours our Earth whole and spits out the rest hurtling into the centre of the sun, they’re the ONLY band you could possibly ever count on to survive it. They’re also the last four people you’d EVER wanna populate the Earth with afterwards (unless you count Joe their guitarist, but only if he wore a dress.. and even then you’d need a whole lot of whiskey to make that happen!) but that’s possibly a mute point. Kytes Of Omar. They’re THAT kind of band. A band that’s part mythology, part legend, part overgrown hair follicle malfunction and all kinds of diabolical rock & roll fury. Tonight they either The Subways mixed with Kings Of Leon’s “Because Of The Times”, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Queens Of The Stone Age, Foo Fighters and Franz Ferdinand cranked to eleven; or a werewolf fucking a disco ball whilst riding a surfboard. It’s pretty much the exact same thing, it’s the best thing about them, there’s really no other band quite like them in Adelaide (or quite possibly anywhere else outside of the confines of a Japanese manga) and they’re playing here tonight? Woweee!! Four of the funniest looking haircuts I’ve ever seen pick up musical instruments and play. Four of the most psychotic, shit-staining acolytes in retarded screaming, unholy wailing and howling that I’ve ever heard within the confines of a teeny tiny live stage without most of my innards being blown to bits by all G-forces. FUCK YEAAAH!! Weirder still? you can still drink beer and bust an epilectic Ian Curtis to it!? Yup, this may be the end of life as we know it but with this band? it’s only JUST the beginning!

THE KILLGIRLS
Aaaah you couldn’t have picked a better headlining act for the Crown & Anchor if you tried! Mario Spate, lead singer of The Killgirls, is a war hero to this establishment. Sure he’s never been part of any REAL armed forces. Sure he’s never seen action in Somalia, Bosnia, East Timor, Afghanistan or Iraq. But he doesn’t need to maaan; he’s witnessed the killing fields at the Crown & Anchor first hand! And the bands he fronts: whether they be past or present, have been the speak of legend every time they’ve played here! How could we forget that infamous incident back in 2001 (or was it 2002!?) when he was the lead singer for Barcode? It was the height of summer, a skullfucking heat wave, a room with no airconditioning. In mid flight, veins popping in his neck, he turns white, blacks out cold and falls right off the stage. Classic! Or what about in December 2005!? this time fronting The Black Doves. When, according to eye witness accounts at the time: “one of the female audience members got so engulfed in the insanity around her, she tore off her shirt and bra, leapt on stage, grabbed a tamborine and proceeded to play topless on stage for a full 10 minutes” (at which point my camera blacked out cold in the attempt to capture it all.. FUCK!!). Yup, for all of Mario’s dubious claims to the Y chromosome, there’s really NO doubting the blind fury to which he and his band members (past and present) massacre a live stage. And with The Killgirls tonight it’s no different. Everytime I’ve seen them here it’s been nothing short of a bloodbath, and tonight they’re claiming it back again like conquering heroes. It’s a do or die airbourne assault. Audience members exploding everywhere like aerosol nozzles let loose on a pilot light. Think The Presets, as reinterpretted by Nine Inch Nails, fronted by Marilyn Manson. Think the rage virus from “28 Days Later” set to strobe lights and a mad techno beat. Imagine a room packed to choking point and there’s nowhere to hide: the whites of our eyes, the skin of our teeth and the blood gushing out of our ears as they tear the whole fucking place apart. It’s Mario redecorating floor to ceiling with wallpaper scrapings from his own throat. Rusty at all points of the room at once with his flaming axe playing “ping pong” with our skulls. Tony drilling the skins like a mechanised woodpecker. Nick on bass picking off all the strays with his sniper rifle whilst Adam on synths rocks back and forth in foetal position not quite believing what’s unfolding before his very eyes. Witness to all this, there was only ONE response we could have: go fucking beserk. And if I wasn’t anywhere near as fucked up drunk as I am right now? I don’t think I could’ve gotten out of this shitstorm alive.. FUUUCK!!

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