School of Seven Bells @ TheGaelic Theatre, Sydney(23/04/09)

Mon 27th Apr, 2009 in Gig Reviews

There’s a level where being – œcool’ begins its road to self-destruction. It’s when your efforts to look unique land in the depths of conformity. It’s when aesthetic pleasures overtake musical enjoyment. It’s when you hold the belief you cannot dance, sway or show any visible signs of movement at a gig solely because – œIt isn’t your style’.

In short, hipsters are no fun, and generally no good to the mood of any gig. Unfortunately, School of Seven Bells attracted this crowd in the droves. This is worrying on a grand scale – in a country known for its brilliant gig turnouts (if we weren’t, the sheer cost of coming here would have stopped many international acts years ago), this is almost counter-productive. This is not advocating the ludicrous behaviour of drunken sods (both under- and over-age), cam-whores, smartarses, screaming idiots and pushers. Rather, this is asking that something, anything, be shown towards a band who “travelled 26 hours for this”, in their words. It’s humiliating as a performer to be greeted with indifference.

In the crowd’s defence, School of Seven Bells weren’t doing much to instigate a major reaction. Clad in black, they played most of their debut Alpinisms without deviation or experimentation. Founder and guitarist Benjamin Curtis proved himself as an agile, lively performer, but the haunting stare of singer Alejandra Deheza remained in the background, shrouded by the out-of-time lighting cues. True to style, they created a stage presence as hypnotic as their shoegaze dream-pop.

Yet what stood out like a sore thumb was the use of a drum machine throughout. When a record like Alpinisims is so beat-heavy, the best that could be done would be to bring on a live drummer. Hard computer beats rarely present themselves well in the live rock/pop arena, and this was no different. The conclusion was anti-climactic – no encore as the band left the Gaelic Theatre stage with the same silence the crowd had offered throughout.

Earlier, two of community radio’s current favourites – Sherlock’s Daughter and Firekites – played as the crowd slowly shifted in, with varying results. Newcastle quintet Firekites appear to be garnering praise from all corners, yet in this reviewer’s opinion, there is still quite a distance for their – œindie-acoustic-jazz’ to go before they really deserve a chance in the spotlight. Many songs felt unfinished, abruptly halting before they could reach their potential, while others simply felt pedestrian. On the flipside, Sherlock’s Daughter approached the tried-and-tested alternative pop route with the kinds of new ideas and gravitas that once made the Howling Bells one of our most interesting exports. Watch this space.

As a whole, the night was almost entirely made of hits and misses. As the first two paragraphs of the review are spent pointing the blame off-stage, on a sole performance-value level there wasn’t much to constitute a great gig. No one may have complained that their hard-earned cash had been put to waste, yet this was not a memorable night.