Big Scary, Cameras @ NorthcoteSocial Club, Melbourne(28/05/2010)

Sat 5th Jun, 2010 in Gig Reviews

Entering Northcote Social Club to catch the Big Scary Autumn EP launch, I was overcome with a sense of dread as I approached a tightly packed hoard of scarves huddled around what I assumed was the ticket desk (in truth my only view was the back of some girl’s braided head). A trap! Stylish anarchy at NSC. I felt I had stumbled into a sort of live music protest as the stubborn crowd were neither entering the band room or leaving the foyer.

It wasn’t until I managed to commando-crawl through the mass that I saw the meager announcement suspended in double-taped A4: SOLD OUT. The striking thing about this isn’t so much that the gig had sold out, but that the scarfed punters were refusing to leave their places. Perhaps they were hoping to listen in through the closed doors, or were hopeful that management may decide to initiate last minute renovations expanding the venue’s walls. Either way, as far as ‘buzz’ indicators for an emerging band go, I can think of none more revealing.

We enter as Cameras begin to reel out their set. A four piece band true to the indie-pop format; I couldn’t help but see the stage as a kind of homage to the genre. Thanks to striking lookalikes Eleanor and Fraser, you would truly be forgiven for believing Morrissey and Karen O had hit the NSC. Cameras seem to have put a considerable amount of thought into their iconic aesthetic bearing, which would probably be distracting if they didn’t own it so convincingly.

A great deal of this band’s allure is their experimental persuasion. They stop just shy of any formulaic indie blueprint, playing with sliding guitar reverb and interesting rhythmic changes. While June was a clear audience favourite, Defeatist exhibited Camera’s potential well as a stand out performance – owing primarily to a more considered balance between experimental wailing and traditional indie sentiments. It was encouraging to feel what seemed to be a communal breath of relief from the audience towards the end of their set as Cameras eased up on earlier vocal gymnastics which were at times overpowering their otherwise hypnotic sound. I look forward to seeing where Cameras take their balancing act from here.

The boy/girl combination of Big Scary no doubt leads us into the temptation of pinning them as another White Stripes duo, particularly with Tom Iansek slicing up the guitar and Jo Syme pedestalled behind the drum kit. By the fourth bar of their opening it was clear such comparisons are entirely moot. Theirs is a diverse sound that stretches with ease across indie-rock, blues and that sweet brand of folk we seem to find a lot of in Northcote.

However enticing it may be to hail Syme as the new female drummer on the block, I have to say this really isn’t the case at all. She stands simply as the new drummer on the block. In a league of her own, with no warming up time lapse, Syme proceeded to beat at the kit wildly; if it weren’t for the insatiable grin on her face you’d assume the toms were staging an attack! The sight, and of course sound, is nothing short of electric. I wondered quickly if Syme was the inspiration for the band’s naming…

With equal stage presence, though perhaps a little less ferocious, is Iansek. Gripping to his guitar, Iansek appears to be the missing link between Jack White and Angus Stone. Vocally he sidesteps seamlessly between blues rock and softer folk, the pair harmonising beautifully without relying on tired lyrical recipes. Iansek often oscillates between exciting guitar riffs and an effective simplicity, moving the Big Scary set forward in a series of tucks and turns. Between the two performers a remarkable level of sound is produced; this is really engaging listening.

Big Scary seem to have little time for banter between songs, breaking momentum only briefly for Syme to discuss her new haircut. While appearing incredibly comfortable on stage, the dynamic between these two on stage isn’t particularly interactive. I suppose this is because they’ve nested themselves so intently into their music and have little need to give each other a series of nods through the set. This allows for a refreshing level of focus, particularly during the rollicking Hey Somebody. Big Scary’s focus was in no way compromised during their EP’s title song Autumn and Polly, displaying an endearing fragility with intensely introverted musicality.

Somewhere near the set’s conclusion, it was surprising to note that there had been very little of the usual push and pull amongst the audience, despite their sell out numbers. Certainly, from where I was stationed, I experienced almost none of the typical ‘Scuse me… requests we can usually count on as restless patrons shuffle sideways towards the bar. Looking around I saw this was because most every plastic pot of beer was being nursed in careful rations. These two had the venue very near hypnotised, and no one was budging. It has to be said: if Big Scary can keep a mob of followers waiting patiently in the foyer and hold another crowd back from the bar, they’ve got to be doing something right.