Teenagersintokyo, Bachelor OfArts, Young Hearts Fail @Rocket Bar, Adelaide(24/04/09)

Sun 26th Apr, 2009 in Gig Reviews

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YOUNG HEARTS FAIL
Yes this is the fifth time I’ve seen this opening act this year. And YES I know what you’re all thinking. But as much as I could simply be stalking them for one Xixi Cao: the cutest damn female vocalist in all the Adelaide scene (and how!), they’re also making it ridiculously easy for me to “stalk them” in turn, by playing SO many freaking gigs in the last few months that it’s literally impossible for me to avoid them even if I tried. Yup there’s no doubt about it, Young Hearts Fail are this year’s “Mona Lisa Overdrive”, and just like Mona Lisa Overdrive before them: it’s getting harder and harder for me to review them without making this shit sound like cruel and unusual punishment. So for the sake of all involved, let’s focus on their potential and brush over everything else with “rose coloured glasses” shall we? (or in other words let’s employ the exact same strategy I use for this entire blog everytime I drink myself to death each week.. YEAAAS!!). Young Hearts Fail. In all the times I’ve seen them live they’ve presented a curious dichotomy between that which is their jaw dropping studio sound: like all the “goose bump” elements of Interpol, The Cure and Bat For Lashes all rolled into one, and how it all “translates” onto a live stage. Stage fright is one way of putting it (mentioning both Ladyhawke and Cat Power in the same sentence is another), but to their credit they ARE improving. Xixi, their shrinking voilet HAS gained some much needed confidence, so much so you can ALMOST hear her haunting vocals, and by “almost” I mean feel free to totally disregard the howling feedback at the start of their set thanks to the house mixer cranking her mic levels to the ceiling to compensate (aaaah comedy!) and they’re nothing but magic! And then there is the band behind her. Like a blitzkrieg through Poland, they’ll launch into song after song of driven rhythm and oppressive guitar that rarely lets up the intensity from beginning to end. On the one hand this invariably adds to Xixi’s breathlessness by drowning her out for four minutes at a time (as I suspect they’ve yet to master the verse/chorus dynamic that’d work around her more “subtle strengths”) but in doing so they’ve also added weight to their fledgling artistry by giving their songs a distinctly “asphyxiating” emotional drive too. Yeah I know it’s a bit of a mess, I know the pieces don’t quite fit and yet I still see SO much potential here! As much as I’m clearly being far too easy on them, one day I swear they’ll prove it to us all!

BACHELOR OF ARTS
Moments prior to our second act Modular’s infamous douchebag DJs, just like every other Friday night’s “Abracadabra”, have been raping our ears nonstop to an A-Z crack cocaine medly of banging electro tunes and remixes covering everything from Ed Banger, DFA to MSTRKFRT: or in other words everything you’d love from: finding your corpse foaming and twitching on the floor with both eyes rolling back in their sockets, to finding sweet relief in a pulled trigger blowing both barrels of your brain over all the walls and ceiling. FUCK I love this shit I truly do! Which only makes Bachelor Of Arts (from Melbourne) all the more welcoming when they finally make an appearance on stage tonight. This band is truly a no-brainer in the best way possible. The minute they start playing you forget all the bullshit above, you forget that you’ve been dismantling your camera screaming obscenities the entire night attempting to photograph this shit, you simply nod your head along, switch off your brain with a smile and go “yeah.. I fucking dig this shit!”. That’s the Bachelor Of Arts. They’re a ridiculously abrupt, angular and abrasive sound that’s infectious in every way that they shouldn’t be. They’re an itchy trigger assault in hyper-kinetic start-stop adrenaline drumming, body popping rhythms, hysterical gang shouting and bleeding guitars that bounce about the room in the most idiotic and unpredictable ways possible; and yet for all their rough and tumble spastic jams, they also possesses a great deal of range too; an endless palette of sound in which to feed from. In effort to describe them more specifically, think of them as a Frankenstein mashup between the math rock rhythms of My Disco, the satanic chug of Helmet and the volatile psychosis of both At The Drive-In and Test Icicles. In every single way that should be a complete fucking disaster, and it IS, it works brilliantly. This is what “indie” should be. For all their flaws, faults and hilarious fuckups they’re only but strengths that drive their sound further. I bought what I thought was an EP off them for $15, it turned out to be a 14 track album, I thrashed it twice in a loop whilst writing this review and it only got better; what more could you want?

TEENAGERSINTOKYO
For all its size and grandeur Sydney isn’t really reknown for its vibrant local scene, at least not in the scope that Melbourne’s gargantuan over abundance couldn’t otherwise win hands down in a pissing contest. But do not be fooled: beyond that cold capitalist surface of concrete, steel and glass (and freaking Andrew Stockdale) you’ll be surprised what you can find. It’s not just a city for disposable pop music, DJs and major record labels; OOOH NO! There IS a distinctive Sydney sound that apes that alienating urban environment and turns it on it’s head quite like no other. Pioneered (and later corrupted) by The Presets and Van She: every year you see another fiendish acolyte emerge ripe with that iconic hard edged 80’s electronic, sarcastically subversive, yet infinitely accessible sound. It’s awesome shit. You hear it in the paranoid film noir grooves of Lost Valentinos from “Man With A Gun” to “The Bismarck”. You hear it in the infectious post punk Blondie style jams of The Cassette Kids. You hear it in Teenagersintokyo tonight. I swear they’re all siblings to the same genetic strain; and as much as they may all (at least on the surface) represent every single reason why Rocket Bar should be burnt to the ground thanks to just how ridiculously fashionista they may look (wait.. does that bass player have freaking Spock ears!? never mind) dig a little deeper and they provide every reason for why Rocket Bar was built in the first place: it’s all about the ecclectic post punk rhythms that bring you back again and again. Teenagersintokyo are rife with it. You hear it when Linda Marigliano (yes that “Linda Marigliano” formely from Triple J) hammers the body popping bass with a jam that kills like nothing else. You hear it when Rudy Udovich with the spastic homeless beard (the same beard he apparently promised not to shave for a whole year) pounds that metronome assault. You hear it especially when next to every one of them wields the sticks for “Black Bones” and proceed rattle your ribcage all at once. It’s ALL about that mad rhythm, that mad off kilter 80’s post punk jam you once heard from U2’s “Sunday Bloody Sunday” and INXS’s “Original Sin”, that same tribal insanity The Ting Tings and New Young Pony Club have been ripping off ever since. Throw in Sophie McGinn’s “Interpol” style guitars and Miska Mandic’s icey synths and it makes for a killer combination. But what makes any of THIS shit something you want to invest in long term and not just another mindnumbing throwaway!? It’s all about the vocals. I find the key to ANY “indie” band worth its weight, is in just how hilariously discordant their delivery is. Think the dull drones of an M.I.A., the shrill screams of a Karen O, or the adenoidal midtones of a James Murphy from LCD Sound System and you’ll know where I’m getting at. And when you hear both Samantha Lim on vocals and Miska Mandic on keys “harmonise”: in how they grate your ears ever so slightly, and yet have you grinning ear to ear to the shrill cacophany of it; you’ll know exactly what I’m on about!

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