Sounds Of Spring @ RNAShowgrounds, Brisbane(26/09/2009)

Mon 28th Sep, 2009 in Gig Reviews

Check out the first of the festival photos here and check back later for the full visual account.

With pun completely intended Calling All Cars are first cab off the rank. The few punters that didn’t have too big a Friday night are front and centre and getting amongst the angsty thrash-rock action. With spit and sweat aplenty the Melbourne lads are in fine form and more than armed to live up to the critics’ hype. Animal is a balls-to-wall thriller and an apt closer with zoo up front starting to take shape.

Numbers Radio are in fine form with Boring an early highlight despite overpowering guitar. Crowd favourite Come On is the catalyst for dance moves that would later translate to sore feet and the interchanging vocals between bassist Robbie Carlyon and guitarist David Orr make their songs unique. The set finishes with Fire and many plugs for the recently released new album.

Arriving at the Time Off Stage to soft grass, UV-protective foliage and Gold Coast time-travellers Rogerthat tripping out at full noise is a pleasure. The psychedelic four-piece deliver deliciously deranged, tripped-out rock. Fortunately there’s not a cloud in the sky or we’d be playing ‘spot the dog eating a rainbow’. Instead we’re copping a luscious lashing of long haired, tie-dyed and powerfully pretty music from their latest album The Desert’s Call.

Two side-by-side stages operating under the one guise at both the Main Arena and Triple J Big Top, along with spreading the festival over more of the RNA showgrounds is a much needed improvement over last year’s setup. The VIP tent provides more than a few laughs, looking more like a cattle tent than offering anything above the ordinary punter experience.

Globe conquering locals I Heart Hiroshima brave the blistering heat to put on yet another admirable performance of many new songs from their release The Rip including Shakeytown along with old favourites. Susie Patten keeps the crowd entertainment levels up, dedicating one song to a gent in a three piece suit and balaclava. Old favourite Neutron Popsong, Punks and a fantastic cover of The Chills’ Pink Frost, makes for sweaty people all over the place. Ouch My Face join them on stage for the final song, with Susie adding her signature tambourine-against-head move.

Rocking the “not very rock n roll” 12:25 slot on the Main Arena are The Hard Ons who are shirtless by track three and kickin ass in the brutal sun.

The Coalition Crew do well at the Zebra Stage to drown out the nu-metal onslaught of MM9 at the encroaching Triple J Big Top. Vocals could do with a few more dBs but this doesn’t dampen the party vibe onstage and in the crowd. Kel Timmons is a stunner onstage, vocally and visually.

The first casualty of the heat is seen to be removed on a stretcher while many wait for Mary Trembles. The Triple J Big Top sound levels are almost enough to do permanent damage but the cool breeze flowing under the tent make it the place to be.

After The Fall are well practised and well mixed, making for a good set. Digital Age and Desire are the standouts of their forty minutes but the entire set is a great way to spend time soaking up some sunrays. Matthew Gore – œs bass pulses through the grass and Benjamin Windsor – œs vocals are surprisingly audible throughout. Across the field people are tapping toes and nodding heads despite being unfamiliar with the band.

The Gin Club provide sweet melodic respite at the shady Time Off stage as last-minute replacements in the Toothfaeries slot, who don’t appear due to illness. Tracks off Ten Paces Away keep everyone in fine – if slow-moving – spirits, which works brilliantly at this time of day.

Nancy Vandal start their set with “Sounds of Spring, and we’re NV” to the tune of AC/DC’s Dirty Deeds and continue on in classic ska punk fashion. This veteran band clearly formed during big-lunch in the 70s and never grew up.
Rumoured to be one of their last shows, punters turn out in force and stay for the raucousness. Ska has never been so punk and punk has never been so tongue-in-cheek.

The Tongue is one of the countries most celebrated Hip-Hop MCs and has the punters pouring in. Chilled beats and liquid lyrics keep the playas sedated, until radio smoothy The Real Thing breaks the mellow monotony and has sweaty bodies gyrating with some believable vigour.

It stands to reason that when a band member goes for a solo project, they get to do the things they always wanted to do, but couldn’t. So by that logic, Kram always wanted to write middling AM-radio ballads. The two in the middle of his set are only just okay, but luckily they’re bookended by the Spiderbait -lite which has been making the rounds on the radio. Kram himself, as always, is a terrific performer, attacking the rock songs with gusto and aggression from behind and in front of the kit, twirling the mic around on stage and daring the audience not to cheer along. But the little Kramites who are helping him out are no Whit and Janet, and the set pales in comparison to last year’s superb Spiderbait show.

In true, country-attired Root! style the band rip into My Other Bumper Sticker Is Intelligent and ringmaster DC Root makes his way into the crowd, singing to those seated in the shade. Henri, Doug Lee and Steve Root are confined to the stage but there is no denying that they’re having more fun than all the punters combined. Highlights include Pauline Hanson Says There’s Christian Muslims Too and Fuck! I’m Dead which DC announces will be available on the new Missy Higgins album. More comedy gold comes in the shape of Everybody Loves You (Longtime) and Orange People. Root! are tight with catchy harmonies and hilarious as fuck, ending the set with classic Aussie narratives_Joe Blogs_ and I Wish I Was Tex Perkins.

The Scare may have the best, most unavailable merch of the day and a highly anticipated show but come off looking and sounding like an inferior version of The Rapture.

Rhubarb crawl out of hiding and rip into old and missed ways. Start Again and The Trouble I’ve Seen reaffirm why they were so popular so many years ago. Dave Drinkall – œs bass is so clear on Just Another Pilot you can almost pick the strings out of the air. Steve Drinkall – œs vocals take us back to the early 2000s and people stand around reminiscing of past Rhubarb shows. Exerciser is the standout of the short walk back in time which sees a five person strong mosh pit at the front of the stage. With a passing comment of “see you in a few years” Rhubarb is done, much like the fine china – put away to only come out again on special occasions.

Wearing the wig and horns of the Minotaur, the band’s mouthpiece Ezekiel Ox takes command of the heaving crowd. Mammal have arrived. Like a poetically divine machine-gun massacre, Think has the surging mass – mostly clad in black Mammal T-shirts – furious. The volume has been upped along with the on-stage anti and a more engaging frontman in the country may be hard to find right now. Unnecessary political jibes aside, this four wheeled wrecking machine take no prisoners with Smash The Pinata driving the nail home.

Shonen Knife are so fricken adorable. A Moog version of I Say A Little Prayer is piped through the PA before the band triumphantly enter to another synth soundtrack, holding Shonen Knife Osaka towels that look like bar mats above their heads. Dressed in colour coded outfits a la Power Puff Girls, the three Japanese pop punks pack plenty of punch into their dynamo set. Bassist Ritsuko shoots her dazzling smile and headbangs like an Oriental Barbie. They may look kitsch but their brand of pop punk is tighter than most. Naoko busts out some rad licks on her apricot guitar and in Sushi Bar Song she gets the crowd chanting “sushi sushi sushi bar going to a sushi bar!”. An Osborne-esque “heavy metal” track is as funny as it is earnest and an unnecessary cover of The Carpenter’s Top Of The World is redeemed by Pyramid Power with its stomping Wolfmother drive and Naoko’s words of wisdom – “Do you believe in pyramid power? If you put an apple inside a pyramid it will never rot.” Title track from current album Super Group makes an appearance and the set ends with the cacophonous Cobra Vs Mongoose.

Another in the long list of mid-to-late 90s rock names making a comeback for this festival is Shihad , who bring all the bombast and blast of their power rock to the Main Arena. The fuzzy sound crashes all over them for the duration, but as long as someone’s throwing John Toogood the metal horns, he doesn’t care. Every Shihad set is a greatest hits set, and this is no different, hitting the fantastic General Electric trio of My Mind’s Sedate, Wait And See and General Electric on their way to sing-along hit Run. We get treated to a couple of new songs, which still sound firmly in-development, but all four members work like a well-oiled rock machine – stand still at your peril.

The dark, demented, colonial-flavoured blues-rock being offered up by Western Australia’s Kill Devil Hills nods encouragingly at The Drones. Turning the once flowery surroundings to swampy bog, these five men have seen some tough times. Drought is a disturbingly accurate opener that seemingly magnifies the stifling mid-afternoon swelter. Distorted guitars intensify the lyrics of the multi-vocalists while the violin adds enough creep to ensure not a single back is turned. Drinking Too Much drains the last glass-half-full with its bitter tail of regret and revenge.

Frenzal Rhomb are back in Brisbane and the set is never going to end well. It’s close to impossible to decipher what Jason ‘Jay’ Whalley is singing and speaking, separating the true fans from the posers. The true fans are still screaming Genius at the top of their lungs and playing air guitar along with Lindsay McDougall despite the fact it’s almost impossible to hear that he’s on stage with one. Seasoned showman Gordy Foreman battles through the set with a supposed broken hand and if that is in factvthe case he’s one tough bastard. Clarity returns to the mix somewhat as the four crass gents power through Mum Changed The Locks, Bucket Bong, All Your Friends, 60, Beautiful & Mine, Ship Of Beers, Punch In The Face and their most well known track thanks to corporate advertising Never Had So Much Fun. A three man shoulder stack is briefly erected in the mosh and shoes, cups and anything that’s not nailed down is catapulted around and onto the stage.

The Fauves were a festival drawcard for the FL team, but it takes only a few moments to remember it’s due to their novelty rather than any reputation for a great show. They damn themselves even further by omitting Don’t Get Death Threats Anymore and Dogs Are The Best People from their set, in favour of synthy Thousand Yard Stare tracks Celebrate The Failure and First Day On The Run. Between songs, verbose frontman Andy Cox talks a good talk, but the average pop-rock songs don’t stack up, and it soon becomes clear why The Fauves never cracked the big time. They wrap up with Give Up Your Day Job; advice they should probably not take themselves.

Not a lot of punters take a nostalgia trip with The Fauves, but the Triple J Big Top is absolutely packed for the grungey, dancey punk of Children Collide. A three piece who make as much noise as six, the band threaten to blow the roof right off the venue, especially during Johnny Mackay ’s frenetic thrashing, which happens often. Big singles Chosen Armies and Social Currency have the crowd moshing like crazy, and the band feeds off that energy to knock it up a notch. With each show, this band’s reputation grows, and it’s easy to see why – they’ll be headlining festivals like this in no time.

Quan and his drummer/keyboardist Cat offer something completely different to the power rock theme of the day. Their mix of electro, rnb meets aussie hip-hop makes the few punters standing at the front dance in the strangest of ways. The radio soaked OMG alerts a few people to who they’re actually watching. The One described by the man himself as more dancy stuff was almost impossible not to shake some part of the body. Quan apologises for the lack of stunning visuals which really add impact to his minimalist set, but anyone who takes their mum along to their festival gig gets a thumbs up from us.

Butter wouldn’t melt in the mouths of Melbournian upstarts British India. After a few derogatory remarks aimed at festival organisers, This Dance Is Loaded sees the boys finally going about their task. Perfectly tiptoeing the line between rock and pop, these four kids have created ultra-singable rock. The set sounds like a ‘best of’ CD and they’ve only got one album to draw from. Tie Up My Hands and God Is Dead (Meet The Kids) take the crowd to the brink. Sarcasm drips from frontman Declan Melia ’s word hole as the opening riff to I Said I’m Sorry is unanimously recognised. In what may be an act of karma, all sound drops out to uproarious opposition. After a brief techno-fiddle the mic squeaks back to life and the song’s given a second attempt. For a band that clearly couldn’t give a shit what the listener thinks, they’ve really mastered the art of the big finish and Russian Roulette puts an end to the set like a bullet to the head.

Something With Numbers are letting the crowd have it at the Triple J Big Top. Their ridiculously boogieable brand of indie-pop has The Beautiful Girls cool kid Matt McHugh getting down amongst the revelry. We’ll Fight is a soft-rock slow burner that gets the mob singing. During Stay With Me Bright Eyes, lead singer Jake Griggs ’ hilariously twitchy disco moves encourages even the staunchest of punters to shake their heavy-metal shackles and become the proverbial polaroid picture and Apple Of The Eye keeps the collective heart-rate above the redline to a dusty close.

Over at the Main Arena, The Panics are marking their return with a sunset slot. All the big tracks from the J-Award winning Cruel Guards make an appearance, but the poor sound setup is deadly to them, as their tracks depends on a depth and clarity that just isn’t there. The band don’t do themselves any favours either, sticking to the by-the-numbers set we’ve seen them deliver so many times since the album landed. Get Us Home, Don’t Fight It and Feeling Is Gone are all good, if well worn tracks and despite the fact they’ve been off the radar for months, no new songs are presented tonight. There’s no surprises here, and that, combined with the poor sound, makes this a disappointing Panics performance.

Trouble makers Amity Affliction attract a bigger crowd than the Trash stage allows. Not even a minute into the first song, Joel Birch had made his way into the crowd not to be seen again, at least until the end of the song. Trad Nathan headbangs and plays keys in a manner that’s nothing short of admirable, and Ahren Stringer takes care of the melodic vocal moments. After B.D.K.I.A.F., (Big Dick Know It All Fuck), people were escaping the riot of a mosh pit at all angles. The Blair Snitch Project debuts in Brisbane and Stairway To Hell sees Joel disappear into the crowd again. Another full-paced, high energy show ensures many mosh pit warriors leave bloody and bruised. The battlescars from moshing on concrete are forever.

The Tiki-less Salmonella Dub ’s sound is instantly infectious but quickly monotonous. Their dub-cum-drum and bass quickly gets old and by halfway through the set punters are losing interest and are only quarter-heartedly getting down. Shortly after the crowd realises there’s nothing to see on stage and shuffle across to get prime position for The Beautiful Girls who are next to take the batton and run.

Clare Bowditch spends the first half of her set pfaffing around with Casios, rambling on about love and donning 3D glasses while we hope she’ll air the infectious Start Of War before the last five minutes of her set. Twenty minutes in we leave the ARIA winning Best Female Vocalist (and waffler) to her own synth devices and head over to Giants Of Science for less fluff and more entertainment.

A healthy crowd turns out to see the return of hometown heroes Giants Of Science, who are delivering crisper and even more rockin sets than they did the first time around. Ben Salter (who’s first set of the day is as morose bluesman in the Gin Club) struts his rock frontman stuff, and it’s pretty fantastic. They trot out tracks from their back-catalogue, including the world-beating Here Comes The Punishment. With vocals as ballsy and melodic as Josh Hommes’ and songwriting skills more interesting than the Shihads and The Scares of the day, Salter, Tanner & co have the goods to be playing later sets on much larger stages. Newer songs, however, lack the pizazz of earlier work.

In the middle of a full-blow dust onslaught, The Beautiful Girls bring their roots and good times on stage. Paulie B – œs bass shakes the tents and dancing people kick up even more dust which doesn’t bother anyone in the slightest. Thought About You and a relaxed verision of Black Bird fill the Triple J Big Top to capacity and Mat McHugh – œs enchanting vocals and stage persona on Under A Southern Sky sum up the largely-Australian festival perfectly. Periscopes and In Love fly by and an hour of dancing the The Beautful feels like all of five minutes.

The Butterfly Effect open with the invigorating Window And The Watcher and diligently march through a setlist heavy with Final Conversations Of Kings material. The sound, like so many bands before them at the Main Arena is blown around and mangled by dust-laden winds. Room Without A View is easily the set’s highlight but older tracks Aisles Of White, Gone and One Second come close. Projections go awry mid set but come back in time for the somewhat preachy documentary-style war visuals of the bombastic Worlds On Fire towards set’s end.

Of all the performers today, you’d be hard-pressed to find a better showman than Tim Rogers, who trots out on stage in a dinner suit and bowtie. He too reaches into his back catalogue – opening with The Luxury Of Hysteria before delivering numbers from his Twin Set days. Rogers can be a bit hit-and-miss, depending on how he feels but tonight he makes a jovial figure, thanking the healthy crowd for seeingh him instead of the other acts on at the same time. He’s joined on stage by a string section who perform well, but Rogers always makes sure he is the centre of attention. Ever the consumate showman, he finishes with Heavy Heart and a cover before wishing everyone a good night.

My Disco are the rock alternative of what you’d listen to pumped full of the cherry pops available from the Happy High Herbs stall. Guitarist Ben Andrews bizarrely and bouncily marches on the spot whilst statuesque brother Liam provides repetitive bass and vocal lines. Drummer Rohan Rebeiro adds minimalist beats to a set better suited to an indoor sloth party.

Tex Perkins hasn’t made it onto the stage twenty minutes into his allotted hour so we head over to watch The Living End extract the last drop of enthusiasm from the all but exhausted crowd. Chris Cheney and crew set a no-bullshit agenda as the gusts wailing through the arena, now verging on dangerous, block then blast the sound from the PA. Oldie but goodie Second Solution is the first track that seems to break though with a full-power, full-crowd chorus chant. All Torn Down keeps spirits up before Cheney delivers the news that their set has been cut in half due to the imminent storm predicted that never eventuates. Genuinely disappointed about getting an early mark, Cheney apologises, asks ask to hold onto our shoes, leave our hat on and prematurely end our night thrashing to White Noise.

Sounds Of Spring v2.0 played out much better than it’s inaugural year, and once the last of the logistical wrinkles, meteorological freak shows and revival lineups are out of the way who knows what fun will be in store for next year’s event.

Reviewed by brittles, yaki, gumbuoy, misscrystle. Compiled by misscrystle.