The Chemist @ Rosemount, Perth(21/05/10)

Mon 24th May, 2010 in Gig Reviews

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Haters, say what you will about the Rosemount! There are those of us who love, love, love the Rosie’s underground feel. The brooding, dark interior and slight stickiness underfoot is perfect for gigs just like the launch of The Chemist’s new EP The Wolves’ Howls Shatter the Old Glass Moon. It comprises just the right amount of daggy, dive bar coolness and a definite grit and edge. That said, someone really does need to take down the tacky disco ball hanging above performers’ heads. Why is it even there? Does the Rosie do a regular roller disco night that I don’t know about?

Seemingly unphased by dangling disco balls and the almost vacant room, were first support Wolves at the Door. The almost mystically gorgeous duo floated through a set of dreamy, breathy indie-pop. It is music to capture the imagination – particularly if you’re feeling a little lovesick while it’s raining outside. Their sound makes you think of the word “dreamscapes,” but where is anyone going to use that word in a sentence? Whatever age Ash Hendriks and James Gates actually are, they create quite a mature sound. It does, however, lack a little bit of substance and ‘oomph’; a problem that plagues many a band without a bassist. Nevertheless, they got straight in and out of there like any good first support should, and drew a fair amount of cool/uncool hipsters into the room.

Taking it up a notch (or ten), second support Wolves had something much more dramatic and a bit more fun to offer. While they describe their own sound as being “every bit raw power as it is simmering subtlety”, it was only the absolute raw power that was on show at the Rosie. Their breakdowns were incredible, and they do theatrical rock better than any Panic At the Disco or Fall Out Boy around. Guitarist Russell Winter rocks so hard that it makes you smile, with bassist Reucas Lim coming in at a close second. The stand-out, though, was violinist Rachael Aquilina – her skill with the stringed instrument creates such an amazing sense of drama. She is easily one of the coolest violinists…well, ever. The Wolves sound is one of intrigue, and drew a solid crowd after just one song. Despite the fact that they lack a little bit of diversity – the middle of the songs tend to sound worryingly similar – they are clearly very hard-working, proved by the stand-out performance of It’s All Right.

If you’re losing track of time, we’re now up to support number three – experienced Perth garage-rockers, Young Revelry. What did they bring to the night? A hard-rock edge. What was their theme? Hair. After only two songs, including catchy opener Nineteen seventy three, a bunch of (very young, very drunk) girls were already dancing wildly in front of the stage. The reception from the rest of the room, however, left a lot to be desired. With only a small smattering of applause, perhaps punters were confused as to why vocalist Seb Astone’s voice varied from a barley audible mumble to a slightly shocking yell. But, credit where credit is due, Young Reverly’s set championed songs of a sing-along quality, something which had managed to escape the previous support acts. New song, Reckless Minds heralded the coming of a new EP/album – sure to be another angsty, indie record worth a spin or two.

The speed and efficiency with which all the supports got their gear on and off stage was surprising, and impressive. But main event, The Chemist sure took their sweet time taking to the stage, letting the electric atmosphere of anticipation settle over a now jam-packed crowd. With brass section Karate Party Horns looking super slick in black and white, The Chemist opened with Don’t Look Down from their new EP. It was clear from the get-go that this outfit have struck the balance between performing too much and performing too little; the slightly swaggering confidence of men with real skill.

Ben Witt on lead guitar and nearly faultless vocals is a funny little smart-arse, declaring to the audience “I hope you left your shit at home, because you’re about to lose it!” and berating them for breaking into applause in almost every song with a false-ending (there were many.) He is an enigmatic and intriguing stage persona, who seems to effortlessly draw all eyes in the room. However, the joking banter sometimes runs the risk of being laid on a little thick, especially when his vocals are so clear and clean that you can hardly wait to hear more.

Witt’s voice was best showcased in End of July, and the live layering of his own vocals on top of himself proved a very interesting venture. For the most part, it worked; but dissolving into an odd, electrical screeching at the end of the song was a big, fat fail. Nobody goes to a gig to have a grating, screeching noise savage their eardrums.

The aforementioned discretion can be forgiven, as the rest of the set triumphed a wicked diversity which put The Chemist apart from their support acts. They sound like tongue-in-cheek hip-hopper, Butterfingers, but better. They achieve what the Philly Jays fail to; they are exactly what the Philly Jays wish they could be. Stars is the perfect combination of optimistic light and kooky darkness, and proves that The Chemist don’t take themselves too seriously.

A clear highlight of the night was watching bassist Hamish Rahn’s sex faces galore! Hey, don’t they say bassists do it better…? And Wolves’ violinist Aquilina’s musical contribution only added to the aural ecstasy – she had even more chances to shine with The Chemist than with her own band. A percussionist playing a Budweiser carton full of coins and keyboardist James Ireland turning his hands to an accordion rounded out a night of eclectic twists and turns that had the crowd bouncing along the whole way. If you’ve never heard The Chemist before – get your hands on Wolves’ Howls Shatter the Old Moon...now!

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