Fermez La Bouche Festival @The Evelyn, Melbourne(17/10/09)

Tue 20th Oct, 2009 in Gig Reviews

For the first four hours, many people seemed to want Fermez La Bouche to fermez its bouche (French for ‘shut its mouth’). Those who read the list of headlining acts for the inaugural festival at the Evelyn would have jumped at the chance to pay $15 for 17 bands. Tic Toc Tokyo, The Parking Lot Experiments, Cuba Is Japan – the crème of the unsigned Melbourne crop. So everyone was a little surprised that the first eight odd acts were nothing short of what is affectionately referred to as ‘screamo’.

Bands such as Wind Rises Electric, In Tongues, Terrordactyl and Cast & Crew gave us the standard Alexisonfire fare, whereas some other outfits gave us same strange, err, outfits. The bassist of Dreaming of Ghosts, Kyle Murdoch, reminded us that while we were getting pissed in the middle of the day on Brunswick Street, many thousands more were getting pissed in the middle of the day at the Caulfield Cup. Wearing a corduroy maroon ankle length dress and a turquoise pin box hat, he provided ample amusement when the power surged, leaving their set in silence. And with lyrics like ‘I want to infect you with my disease/I want to kill you when I sneeze’, how could you not want to hear more? In contrast, Sydney’s Gay Paris resembled what Tool what sound like if they were Amish butter churners. Give the man some beard clippers and a throat lozenge.

Thank god for East Brunswick All Girls Choir, who stepped in at sun down to calm our ringing ears. With Tame Impala-esque bass riffs, and Marcus Hobb’s unique twangy vocals, we settled in for what now looked to be a cruisey night.

Wrong. Then Keith Party commandeered the stage. Launching themselves from the crowd as DJ Fletch started spinning, there was not one, nor two, but ten erratic would-be rappers hurling themselves on stage. If you haven’t seen Keith Party before, this review can never do justice what happens on stage. It’s like you’ve just walked into a drug fuelled party where everyone knows the words and the choreography to every song. They fling glow sticks and streamers into the crowd, swap the three microphones dozens of times during a song, and by the end, were literally hanging upside down from the rafters at the Evelyn. There’s not a terrible amount of talent here, but fuck, they’re fun.

Best newcomer award has to go to Ships Piano [pictured], the quartet of danceable noise-pop who look suspiciously underage. Despite having a Brit-Pop feel, they sound unabashedly Australian. Think Bloc Party or Art Brut jamming in the bush with twangy guitars. They already had the biggest crowd of the night when they started, but by the end of the set, there was not a square inch of space left to tap your feet in. People from the street, lured by their slick yet harsh vocals, filed in to see what the fuss was about. And you should to – they’re one of those bands to see now so in a year’s time you can say you saw them before they were cool.

With My Disco playing at the Forum on the same night, Pets With Pets made sure that no one felt like they were missing out. Bringing some much needed electro minimalism to the stage, they had many transfixed. There was a slow-mo strobe light, rolling drums, endless synth loops, and animal noises. However, as good as the first few minutes of the set were, when the same few minutes were still playing ten minutes later, it started to grate a little. The chicken noises were replaced by horse noises, replaced by sheep noises, replaced by cow noises. It was like an exorcism on McDonald’s farm.

Despite being relative unknowns,Tantrums’ experimental psychedelia was given one of the prime time slots. And for good reason. This is one of those bands that you accidentally stumble upon, because everyone wants to keep them as their own little secret. Well the secret is out: Tantrums are phenomenal. They comprise of vocalist/guitarist/casioist/awesomeist Jade McInally, Sarah Phelan looking after all things digital, and the slightly psychotic Nicolaas Oogjes on everything from drums to trumpet to guttural screeching. They have an amazing control over rhythm and thus mood – you feel as if you’re watching genius unfold. Songs seem to evolve out of nowhere, layering and looping and twirling and weaving in and out of your mind.

The aural orgasm continued with Cuba Is Japan playing on the adjoining stage. Without a doubt, they produce some of the most beautiful music in Melbourne. Roses adorned the microphone stands, they laid out giant Persian rugs on the floor, and encouraged people to sit down to watch. The set opened with Cameron Potts sitting on the carpet, lamenting on his violin, with Darcy Pimblett simultaneously playing a comically large marching band drum and comically small finger cymbals. Bianca Poitevin and James Heenan rounded out on guitar and keys respectively as the audience slipped into an awestruck spell. They mix folk with ambient electronica and orchestral instruments – “Is this post-modernist?” whispered someone close by. Mix locals Your Animal with Bill Callahan’s Smog and you might get close. But even then, to pin Cuba Is Japan down would be a sin.

The Japanese theme continued with Tic Toc Tokyo taking stage. It was reassuring to see that the brilliant trumpeter/drummer/yodeller from Tantrums had snuck onstage, albeit with a different shirt, to play for the second time that night. However, that was where the good times stopped, showing that it doesn’t matter how brilliant one member is, it takes an entire band to produce good music. Exuding ego from tune up, many people started to jump boat over to the smaller stage, where some pretty raucous noise was emitting. Alas, with a diminishing crowd and a so-so experimental rock set, we swapped stages.

Pushed off the main stage, and forced to play in the claustrophobic side stage, The Parking Lot Experiments felt like you were watching your neighbours play a killer set in their garage. A quasi-heckler from the crowd summed it up – “HEY! You guys are shit! But you’re actually really good!” With almost teste-pop vocals from baby-faced Dave Connor, band members sitting on random side stage objects, and a fun, wholesome vibe, it was the perfect way to end the night.

Fermez La Bouche didn’t shut its mouth at all – in fact, it spoke quite clearly for all of Melbourne’s underground artists. Screamo to folk, electronic to orchestral, Brit-pop to psychedelic, all walks of life were representing, showcasing just how diverse our music scene can be.