Die! Die! Die!, Villains ofWilhelm, The Liar's Chair @Alhambra, Brisbane(14/10/2010)

Sun 17th Oct, 2010 in Gig Reviews

Amidst the gloom of the Alhambra lounge The Liar’s Chair have attracted themselves a healthy crowd for an opening act. It’s a shame the group of hipsters are a bunch of dullards, because the five-piece are ill-deserving of such a poor reception. The band’s frontman ‘Elvis’ croons a Caleb Followill-style vocal delivery, climaxing up into fits of maddened rage, appearing visibly frustrated when trying to extort a reaction from the floor. His fire and brimstone performance doesn’t translate to the rest of the band bar drummer Hugh Francis, who seems to share his enthusiasm. Despite their mastery of garage rock and alt-country, their attempts at post-rock don’t cut it, but there’s more than potential.

Danny Wilhelm of the Villains of Wilhelm is locked in a waltz with his microphone stand for the majority of the band’s set. He trudges across the stage laying waste to all in his path as he bellows a monotone vocal delivery through the PA. Anyone would think he’s been plucked right out a 70s punk scene with the way he carries himself on stage, losing shoes and trashing equipment. Guitarist Liam Keats is content enough with gazing at the floor in naivety as the drinks and foldbacks are knocked around and pushed over. Due to time constraints, the set is cut short Keats drops his guitar to the ground and lets it ring out. This support slot is sadly one of their final shows and their shortened set wouldn’t be the closure they had intended.

To New Zealand’s Die! Die! Die! a stage is not a stage, it is a warzone. Yet despite their ability as musicians, there are a few punters who show no interest whatsoever. Why they are disinterested in such a fervent performance is a complete mystery. The selected group who do show appreciation, buckle and collapse onto the stage, turning mic stands, foldbacks, drinks and guitar pedals into a tangled mess. Security and management don’t take kindly to the “hazardous” events taking place and a standoff between fans and muscular security guards ensues.

Michael Prain beats his drums to pieces, literally. Chunks of ride cymbal break off continuously throughout the set as he thunders away on a dilapidated kit with the stamina of an athelete. Bassist Lachlan Anders pogos up and down, before venturing into one of the booths where people are casually drinking. They reel back with amazement as he stands atop the tables. Andrew Wilsonis is a strange frontman. He seems calm and relaxed on the surface but he throws his body with abandon into the crowd and scales the PA speakers, towering over the crowd.

The set mostly showcases tracks from their latest effort Form. Caseman, Lil Ships and Howye shoot past between newer unrecorded tracks and barrages of white noise. Ending with We Built our Own Oppressors the trio aren’t pushing their luck with the hostile reception from the Alhambra management, so they abandon any encore. Hopefully next time they play in Brisbane, it’s to a more suitable venue to an audience which isn’t made up of the vanity-obsessed.