Relive the madness in Toxikon’s gallery
Bobby Burgess’ reputation precedes him, a maniac axe-wielder, a lead guitar master. His Long Gone Midnight were the perfect starter to, what was to be, a ball-tearer of a show. The opening track, Finger Pointer, seemed to embody what they’re all about, a slow-burning psych-rock groove built on the foundation of a hypnotic bass line and coloured with phase-drenched guitar and organ atmospherics. The rock move of the night occurred early on in the evening during Let Me Know, when the crowd found the axeman wailing on his Les Paul, eyes closed, back arched, in a moment of pure rock n’ roll decadence. The boys debuted a “newie” in the form of This Time Next Year which was a highlight, a trip with its delay soaked vocals and dual wah attack. The band closed with the wall of sound epic The Wheel, leaving the small, but vocal, crowd frothing.
From the outset, the energy of The Novocaines was phenomenal with Catching and Killing displaying the band’s penchant for rollicking blues. Liam Young’s drums, like tumbling dice, set the foundation for the squalling leads and howling vocals with which the band has become synonymous. Businessman Blues was a riot, Jay Marriott’s blistering lead work coming to the fore, punctuating brother Corey’s good time wailing. There was no relenting as the band belted out psych-rock stunner Cup of Coffee, with its asylum-riffage. The infectious Reason was a highlight, with its super-catchy British invasion chorus vocals and manic energy. A cover of the Velvet Underground’s Waiting for My Man was an audacious move, but the attitude heavy, high octane redux was super cool. The boys closed with the raucous romp of Ragdoll Blues leaving an ecstatic crowd in overdriven heaven.
The Fumes have an uncanny knack of being able to traverse musical extremes. On one side, they are capable of creating pastoral bliss. On the other, sheer sonic brutality. Bands of a two-piece pedigree need two fundamental qualities; volume and intuition. It should be loud, really farkin’ loud. They should also know what each other is thinking, moving within and between songs as one, like a stupidly talented two headed monster. The Fumes exemplify both of these characteristics.
From the opening Slay the Liar, and it’s menacing stomp, it was obvious the crowd was in for some seriously cool ear-bashing. Rogue River Woman is about as close as the Fumes get to a pop song, with loose, hooky guitars and upbeat vocals. Automobile found Steve Merry and Joel Battersby in their element, dirty slide guitar and four-on-the-floor pummelling used to maximum effect, driving blues beyond its conventions with visceral intensity.
The devil boogie of Psychedelic Warlord was phenomenal, it’s break-neck-speed-hillbilly-death-metal whipping the punters into an absolute frenzy. Seven Year Itch saw the foot taken off the pedal as the band nestled into loose, malevolent blues; brooding and spiteful, Merry’s vocals like venom. Python for a Pillow saw the band kick back into heavy metal hoedown mode, with spectacular effect, punishing guitars punctuated by clinical drumming. Atlanta Rising is the Fumes at their pastoral best, weathered, soulful vocals over deftly played steel guitar, giving the punters a chance to catch their breath in anticipation of a further onslaught.
The brutal boogie of Tell Ya Story Walkin’ had the ladies movin’ with its infectious rockabilly groove. The song’s nasty time change saw dancing make way for some serious power-nodding, reinforcing the tightness of the band with their machine-like precision. Who Do You Love was punk rock at its best, driven by the thickest guitar riffing and jilted lover vitriol.
Following a brief encore break, the band returned for a couple more. The new album’s title track Sundancer got an airing to a rapturous response with the couples in the room getting all cuddly to the Fumes’ ode to the fairer sex. The band closed their set with the delta-blues-via-Hetfield stomp of Cuddle Up the Devil, a suitable closer combining all the elements that make the Fumes quite phenomenal, leaving some very happy punters to go home and contemplate the extent of their hearing loss.
