The Drones @ The MetroTheatre, Sydney (25/04/09)

Tue 28th Apr, 2009 in Gig Reviews

CHECK OUT THE PHOTOS FROM THE SHOW HERE.

On my first experience watching the Drones, I remember standing next to a couple who asked “Are you Drones drunk?” Flummoxed at the question and unfortunately sober, I asked for a definition. In their words, it means that you’re drunk enough that you no longer feel the hearing loss.

This reviewer sees this as the single aspect that makes The Drones one of the most iconic Australian live bands of our time. Where their recorded material guides us through Gareth Liddiard’s poetic lyrics, it’s in the live arena that the destructive aural barrage takes place. Yet at the same time as saying this all, I feel like a broken record. The unescapable issue is that most of the Australian music public are undisputed on The Drones presence on-stage and on-record.

That makes a reviewer’s job even more difficult. How do you add to what has already been said? More so, how do you speak to the unconverted? (As the forum thread that will follow this article will probably show, there are respectable music fans out there that don’t enjoy this Melbourne quartet’s creations). As I pondered all this, the Witch Hats played a support slot like they were the headliners.

Fortunately, that meant a strong, tight, fast set. Unfortunately, that meant belittling the audience and ignoring calls to raise the vocals. Word of advice, Witch Hats: if you are the first of three acts on a night, take the audience’s advice. They might like you more for it.

On his third and final stop following the The Drones’ trail, Kev Carmody came on stage after a humbling introduction by Dan Luscombe. As he sat down, guitar rested against his thigh, you could hear a penny drop as he told stories from his illustrious history and graciously played songs that have grown beyond the simple entails of the Metro Theatre. There was a radiant warmth about his company; more so than his nigh-legendary status in the music industry was the simple fact that he was a nice guy, here to play his songs for us without the bells and whistles.

Kev Carmody was a peculiar choice for support following the absence of Qui – even he couldn’t understand why his acoustic tunes “were between a crazy band like Witch Hats and the farken’ Drones!” To that extent, it may have explained the strange, at times downright annoying response from the crowd. Some drunkenly screamed “Keeeeev!”, others cheered him on patronisingly as he played. Yet, as the crowd sang along to From Little Things Big Things Grow, it was apparent that Kev was not just any old support act: he was greater than anything this bill could ever have.

It didn’t take long for The Drones to step on-stage, belting out the Havilah trio of Nail It Down, Oh My and The Minotaur with the same ferocity and anger that makes my job ever more redundant.

Liddiard remains a frightening beast; wearing his guitar low and placing his microphone high, he stretches himself both physically and literally, howling and strumming like few others. And yes, with amps raised to a level between eleven and hell, anyone without earplugs or a good dose of alcohol was surely leaving with ringing ears.

With a notably positive demeanour thanks to the birthday of drummer Michael Noga (that not even the insensitive call of “Did your house get burned down?” could stop them), they played tightly and happily.

That was, until Luscombe’s guitar pedals suddenly blew during She Had An Abortion She Made Me Pay For. At that one moment, angered, sweaty and with a guitar plugged right in, Dan upstaged all others, playing out the main set in such an intense manner that the entire performance took on a whole new level. The undoable had been done: The Drones got fiercer, doing everything short of smashing their instruments in the sort of fury that would have sparked a fight with any other band (or crowd, for that matter).

While the final two songs of the night – their Kev Carmody cover River of Tears and I Don’t Ever Want To Change – kept this vehemence, it was the subtle direction through Sixteen Straws by Liddiard on acoustic guitar and Noga on harmonica, that became the night’s standout. Against the grain of the entire set, they left the audience with a moment akin their preceding act. It was touching and beautiful yet still pure Drones.

On reflection, it could be said that this was all expected. Every review, every viewing, every report of a Drones gig comes back with the same open-jawed hyperbole. Yet to that extent, anything short of such acclaim for this night in particular would be paying it short. The Drones are superb and deserve no less.