The Novocaines @ Rocket Room

Mon 8th Jun, 2009 in Gig Reviews

It was a – shall we say, interesting – night at the Rocket Room on Saturday. The premise – a fresh-faced band from Northam weren’t just launching a single, but giving technology the flick by going exclusively vinyl. In three hours, the night encapsulated all that was fantastic (exciting, frenetic music) and annoying (laid-back crowds) about the Perth scene.

In between all that, someone forgot to inform the good folks at the Rocket Room to turn on the lights.

Will Stoker and the Embers – aka Taco Leg, depending on who you believe – did their last gig for a few months, as band leader/vocalist/multi-instrumentalist/gymnast Will Stoker will soon be gallivanting in Europe. The band’s stagecraft has developed into a finely-controlled chaos and their set started well, with the band’s characteristic charisma channelled by the fiery and intense Will Stoker.

Then, somewhere towards the middle of the set, things started to fall apart for the band. Perhaps it was the wrong time of the night for the crowd to appreciate Will Stoker and the Embers’ in-your-face attitude because their reception was lukewarm at best. Perhaps it was Gareth Bevan’s tempestuous guitar amp. .Perhaps it was the bad sound mixing which drowned out Stoker’s vocals…

At one point, a clearly frustrated Stoker left the stage and stood with the crowd with his arms folded, mockingly imitating their body language. Then it all ended with the aptly-named In The Belly Of The Beast. To the horror of the Rocket Room staff, the frontman climbed to the very top of the speaker stacks (ripping his jeans…thank God he was wearing underwear) while Bevan pounded and kicked the living crap out of his guitar.

Then the band stormed off, leaving everyone wondering – what the?

Red Jezebel were next with a reliable but predictably comfortable set. What lighting there was, pointed more at the empty space between the stage and the bar, and the band were similarly colourless. Someone even shouted at them to stop playing the same songs – while said in jest, sadly that was how their set sounded. It wasn’t all bad – they livened up towards the end with a new song and How I Learnt To Stop Worrying.

Then it was time for The Novocaines – or, The Howlin’ Novocaines for those with longer memories. With short, snappy songs that don’t overstay their welcome and a singer who jerked and gyrated around the stage like Ian Curtis, they immediately ramped up the energy and had the room jumping. They were clearly having fun and it was infectious. Corey Marriott howled incomprehensible and banshee-like into the microphone, and the rest of the band threw their instruments around as if possessed. Songs like Cup Of Coffee was suitably messy, chaotic and straight-to-the-point as a good punk song should be, while Like A Sunday Morning showed their more sensitive sides.