The Scarlet Ives, TheKeepsakes, Grimey @ Supermild,Adelaide (09/09/09)

Fri 17th Apr, 2009 in Gig Reviews

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GRIMEY
Which brings us to our exciting opening act: this solo singer-songwriter by the name of Grimey. Woweee it really don’t get much better than this! No shit you just KNOW you’re gonna have the time of your life when some acoustic arseclown like this comes to spank out a ballad or two.. and before you proceed to pelt me with beer bottles ouch! “you got me in the eye!” let me explain. I HATE solo acoustic acts. I REALLY do. With a passion! With a few possible (cute female) exceptions (and quite possibly Mikey from Artax Mission) they’re my number one pet peeve. I know.. I really should learn to get over this shit, and clearly none of this has anything to do with Grimey here tonight (he’s probably the nicest dude once you get to know him) but still I feel it needs addressing. I’ve been to countless house parties ruined the minute some “self important douchebag” with an acoustic guitar, let’s for the sake of argument call him “Brenton” (clearly not based on anyone I know cough) switches off whatever mad jam you’ve been buzzing to on the ipod all night, only to strum out cover after cover of overwraught Pearl Jam, Coldplay or Red Hot Chili Peppers to anyone within earshot; willing or not. It’s my living nightmare.. it TRULY is! The minute THAT shit happens, it’s all over. In quite the same way that goon rapidly ruins any taste you can acquire for fine wine later in life, it’s shit like THIS that ruins one man here and his acoustic guitar. Yes, I understand it’s one of the many building blocks to making a solid rock & roll band. It STILL doesn’t make it any easier for me. Still, all credit to Grimey, even as he’s drowning below the waves of a chattering crowd tonight, banging out ballad after ballad, he’s still doing a bang up job. In the right surrounds, say The Grace Emily on a Sunday, Grimey would have a lot to offer. At most I’m reminded of Joze Gonzalez and his cover of Massive Attack’s “Teardrop” or maybe Gary Jules’ iconic take on the Tears for Fear’s classic “Mad World”. That rounded vocal, that distinct sonorous timbre, that bittersweet melancholy. The guitar playing also has a nice, almost middle eastern chromatic feel to it. If I was to reach any further I’d wager there’s an element of Iron & Wine, Angus & Julie Stone and even The Doves in here.. although there’s a good chance I’m probably just reaching with this shit. This ain’t my strong suit, just as THIS really isn’t his night either. Catch him at the Grace Emily on a Sunday however and I’m sure it’d be brilliant.

THE KEEPSAKES
Our second act tonight has no such handicap however, despite any apparent (and clearly unfounded) similarities to other artists that’ll surely provoke a violent response; like say a Ben Lee for example. Even if you wanted to punch Ben Lee in the face, pull that acoustic guitar from out of his boney-white-fingers the minute he hits the ground with a pissy dull thud, continued to beat him black and blue with it till there’s nothing but splinters, only to bugger off to the nearest Crime Converters, buy up another guitar and beat him bloody some more: “hmmm maybe I’ll try a classic 70’s aluminium neck Kramer?” it’s STILL next to impossible to hate this band. They’re that ridiculously infectious. They make you forget just how much you HATE “Catch My Disease”, “We’re All In This Together”, or anything off of “The Rebirth Of Venus”. They even make you forget that whineyarse bitch of a video clip he did for “Cigarettes Will Kill You”. They’re THAT ridiculously awesome! You’ll be beaming with a broad smile from ear to ear like nothing else matters. The Keepsakes. There’s very few bands like them that can still make you appreciate the lost art of the “pop song” quite like they do (ie: back when it still had an innocent 60’s cache and waaay before the Top 40 fucked it up). Think of them as like all the best elements of the Foo Fighter’s self titled album, Blur’s “Parklife”, Weezer, The Shins, or The Dandy Warhols. They’re cheesy sunshine happy pop in the best possible way, like The Beatles used to make before they all got into acid. So much so they even make you forgive Paul MacCartney for all the crimes he inflicted against humanity the minute HE left and started that misguided solo career. No shit.. every song here is a radio friendly masterpiece! It’s ever so utterly stupid, innocent to the point of embarassment (a hint of Peter Combe perhaps?) yet impossible to deny. You hear it in the Wignall brothers Anthony and Jon, with their matching black rim glasses, jamming it out on leads and bass. You hear it in the recent addition of “Lisa Simpson” (aka: Clemi from Zeta) effortlessly swapping between guitar, trumpet, organ and tambourine with a lilting voice not too dissimilar to the country twang of Cat Power. You see it in the halfling midget Jeremy shrinking behind those drums with a goofyarse grin. I know they’re pure evil, they probably kill kittens, throw puppies into blenders and send anthrax envelopes to Third World nuns but you couldn’t care less; because they’re The Keepsakes! They’re rainbows and lollypops! They’re the opening credits to the sitcom “Friends” with everyone dancing about retarded in a public fountain laughing it up! They’re pure joy personified!

THE SCARLET IVES
Which is why we’re ever so relieved to have survived THIS long to see our headlining act; to see this, The Scarlet Ives. Yup, this is a band of rare pedigree; they truly are! A band you’ll be sure to hear a lot more of in the coming months. For despite this only being their second gig, they have a long and illustrious history in this music scene. Not only because they feature the ever infamous Travis Williamson on drums (who you’ll be sure to recognise from a million and one punchlines I’ve abused at his expense when he fronted Tyger Tyger last year) but also thanks their lead singer Gavin De Almeida. He’s one of Adelaide’s many ubiquitous scensters. Chances are at ANY given gig, you’ll see him attempting to keep a low profile somewhere in the back of the room; almost as often as you’re likely to see ME (and curse under your breath) when you find my smiling face flipping you off at the front. He reviews bands for Fasterlouder. I won’t say what his username is (as there’s no point ruining HIS music career after I’ve effectively ruined ANY chance of reviving mine thanks to THIS blog.. YEAAAS!!) but he’s out there every night watching, listening, writing notes; plotting your step by step character assassination. Which when you’re doubling as a musician can be more a curse than anything else. As not only does it mean half of Adelaide’s quite possibly out for your blood, but it can also make you a self flaggelating perfectionist as well. Which is very much the white knuckle “fear and loathing” that must drive Gavin and The Scarlet Ives to hone their craft. This may only be their second gig, but chances are they’ve been perfecting this sound a lot longer than most; and tonight it shows. The Scarlet Ives are a force to be reckoned with; even from the outset. They remind me of both Radiohead and Muse in their infancy. That same simple sound you’d find in “Pablo Honey” and “Showbiz”, yet with all the hindsight you see leading to that articulate songcraft just over the horizon. It’s in Gavin’s vocal delivery. How he sounds like Jeff Buckley as reinterpretted by Daniel Johns. Its in his guitar arrangements. How they glide, weave and dive under and over each other like a moonlit pod of dolphins, like Interpol performed by candlelight (it’s even trippier in the solos). How it all fits together ever so seemlessly and cohesively with both Rick on bass and Travis on drums. Songs that flow like a domino cascade. And as much as Gavin’s likely sweating bullets over this review, and as much as I’d LOVE to take advantage of it (we ALL know I’m pure evil!); there IS a lot to like about this band, there’s a lot of promise; I only see good things from here on in. Yup, the Scarlet Ives are truly a band to watch in 2009. Come in droves, bring your friends, bring torches, pitchforks, stand out front chanting as one, staring right back at him; and freak him the fuck on out. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it!

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