The Boroughs @ Docklands Shed4, Melbourne (6/12/2009)

Thu 17th Dec, 2009 in Gig Reviews

The Boroughs purported to ‘bring together visual artists, bootlegger bars, skaters and thrift stores with bands and Djs’ together in the cavernous confines of a Docklands hall. It’s the first year the event has been run, so I was prepared for an event that still had a long way to go and while the event certainly could be improved, it showed much promise.

After getting somewhat lost in the ghost-town that is Docklands on Sundays, my ear caught a faint whisper of rock music from across the water. We follow our ears, and enter the cavernous space of Shed 4. The place is scattered with shipping containers, with an array of performance art caverns, trippy visual art, and makeshift record store. There were projections of gritty city life and strange performance art up on the walls, and plenty of old couches and milk crates to sit on. At the back of the room lies a small stage, strangely lit by strip lights suspended in a semi-circle, like ribs. The whole place is shrouded in the kind of stuffy, sweaty heat more common in tropical countries.

The band greeting our ears from across the water is The Hello Morning. These guys produce loud, rockin’ sounds with a distinctly American edge. It’s just what you want on a hot Sunday afternoon, the final kick in the pants to wake you up from your hungover delirium and sad-sack Sunday-itis. Who cares it’s Sunday? We’re listening to honest rock ‘n roll and feeling fine!

My decision to wear New York-style skyscraper heels was starting to chafe me – clearly I wasn’t make of the same kind of stuff as a Manhattan glamazon. It was around this time we discovered the very cosy chill-out nook behind the truck the sound guy was using to mount his mixing desk. There had clearly been some kind of odd stuff going on, as the area was covered in fake blood. That aside, we sunk into the couches and relaxed. Nice.

The Frowning Clouds were up next, trailing a distinctly Brit-Rock sound. At least two members look plucked straight from the Beatles’ turtleneck-era. Another guy looks like the lead singer of The Vines. It’s good solid stuff, but fairly unremarkable. I just want another beer. And the loo. Unfortunately, the toilet is blocked by a skate ramp and a circle of onlookers. A skater dude wipes out right at my feet. Score!

Around this time we were getting mighty thirsty – but one glance at the drink prices – $10 for a beer, anyone? – told us our feeble dollar wasn’t going to get much mileage here. In true street-rat fashion, we took ourselves down to the closest supermarket, conveniently situated a few hundred metres away, and arranged some booze. This would be our first trip out of many that day, mostly in a bid to escape the heat and tiny smoker’s cage (no need to smoke, just inhale).

Bachelor of Arts provided us with angular and heavy tunes. They aren’t exactly sparse-sounding though – there’s always a constant noise – but giving us a sense of anxiety and rugged tension. Very New York. The trick with his band is to look behind the noise to the melody, carefully hiding itself in a shroud of wailing and twisted shards of guitar noise. Some people call it wankery. Those people can go back to their Adult Contemporary. I call it challenging art.

Hot Little Hands lead us into a nice segue of epic riffs and hip-shaking bass lines, thumping drums you can feel in your chest and cool, funky vocals evoking dark underground clubs and alleyway liaisons ( I kept hoping I would catch someone in the act – alas, no cigar). This band’s melodies are very danceable, their harmonies seamless and smooth. Despite a room of shocking acoustics, HLHs – another quality addition to the 80s revival – turned out a great sounding set..

Around this time we started to get pretty hungry – so we followed our noses to the delicious wood-fired pizza being served us outside. The only drawback was its situation in the smoker’s cage – you had to elbow your way through a crowd of cancer-stick sucking, nicotine-stained indie youth, crammed into a space smaller than the average living room. Yikes. At least the pizza was good.

Miami Horror pumped out their usual blend of indie-dance, the floor awash with young hipsters. Their synth sounds make you feel like it’s Saturday night in the mid-1980s. True, it doesn’t have much depth, but isn’t that for which this kind of overblown retro-dance was created? What this music lacks in originality, it makes up for in atmosphere. Anything that can make us feel like it’s Saturday night on Sunday evening must be worth something, I say. True to form, the DJ raised the volume to shattering intensity, suddenly turning the insides of the shed into Saturday night on King Street. Without the glassing or drugged toilet sex.

Headliner Bertie Blackman produced a stirring set. The tunes were mostly drawn from her latest LP, the stunning Secrets and Lies. From the intense, sensual crooning of Come With Me to Bed to a moving version of Phil Collins’ I Can Feel It, shrouded in blue light, the set was perfectly arranged and pitch-perfect. The crowd excitement for single Heart was beyond palpable, with one excited reveller jumping on an upturned steel drum, bare feet, beer swill and all. Bertie’s voice is strong and emotive, and complements the keyboards and synth loops well. Her voice is the human touch in the swirling mass of electronic influence.

And so the first annual The Boroughs Festival draws to a close. The festival has plenty of potential, as the central idea is a good one: quirky, unique, and fusing art and music nicely. Here’s hoping they bring it back next year, bigger and better and on a Saturday night.

CHECK OUT THE PHOTOS OF THE ACTION HERE