Glenn Richards, TheUnderminers, KES Trio @ CornerHotel, Melbourne (05/11/2010)

Wed 10th Nov, 2010 in Gig Reviews

I’ve always been curious about solo albums by prominent front-men. What is it they’re trying to achieve by, essentially, sacking the band and doing it all again with an almost identical set up? Recent albums by, say, Something For Kate’s Paul Dempsey, The Drone’s Gareth Liddiard or You Am I’s Tim Rogers have done little apart from confirming that said singer-songwriters were the driving force of their previous bands; hardly a revelation (save for Liddiard’s, who swapped the fuzzed-out strat for an unaccompanied acoustic). From early listens, Glenn Richard’s newest solo effort Glimjack doesn’t seem to deviate from this trend: all tunes could quite easily be branded Augie March and we’d be none the wiser. Would this album launch gig provide any clues as to why the change in members?

The first support slot was given to The Underminers, whose frontman – Justin ‘Hap’ Haywood – also has an interesting back story as the singer for cult 90s band The Dead Salesman. With the final death-knell for the Salesman (save for an upcoming show at Meredith), Haywood’s focussed effort on developing this once duet into a full band has paid off, with the songs deepening with the addition of a rhythm section and pianist. Hap’s lyrics continue where the Salesman ended, incorporating evocative idyllic slice-of-life vignettes that position them as certain products of their maturity. Highlights of their twin sets included the cheeky anti-love song I’m Using You Too Much For My Songs and the cute Little Blue Car: a charmingly simple ode to a first car.

The venue makes full use of the two stages, with The Underminer’s first set on the small stage almost immediately punctuated by pseudo-noise band KES Trio on the main stage. Lead by Karl Scullins, the group has been taken through many monikers and set-ups, this time taking the form of a quartet (despite the deceptive name). The addition to the gig of this slightly confronting outfit seemed odd and it is immediately jarring (it was explained later by Glenn Richards as a personal choice after he partially witnessed the group when on a recent drunken escapade). The first song is a lyric-less dirge which dissolves and rebuilds many times before being rescued from the brink and closed with a tight crash. And so goes the next 40-odd minutes as the band chugs through edgy, seemingly limitless tunes designed, no doubt, to confront and confound.

Driving opening track Long Pigs immediately positions Glenn Richards firmly within the bosom of this albeit familiar deviation from his previous band incarnation. The band set up is an almost perfect facsimile of Augie March, with the addition of a third guitarist the only cosmetic change. The sound, whilst not a million miles away, is noticeably influenced by its new members. The Drones’ guitarist Dan Luscombe adds a swagger as he waltzes around the bedrock groove provided by Glenn and fellow guitarist (and brother) Chris Richards. Fellow Drones member Mike Noga locks in with bassist Ben Bourke for a straight-bat, meat-and-veg rhythm section which adds a noticeable sense of forward motion underneath. Touring keyboardist Stephen Hesketh (most recently touring as a third member for The Mess Hall) fills out the sound (and stage) with apt flutterings above the wall of guitars.

Apple of My Eye catches early as a winsome love tune and a perfect accompaniment to a gilt-edged summer’s day, while Harsh Critic employs self-deprecating lyrics to perfection, even though the low-end strut belies its meaning. The theme is carried throughout the evening: They Hate Us, single Torpor and Spleen and Unflappable Man all provide an optimistic soundtrack to a hopeful summer, whilst lyrically reflecting the artist’s prescient self-opinion and desperate need to break free (lyrics such as “I need you outta my way / But I don’t have the strength to move ya” cut straight to the chase).

It’s late in the set when the promised glimmer of change can be seen sweeping across Richards’ brow. A mix of circumstance – unfamiliarity with the songs and each other, and an array of annoying pop and crackles from the PA – could all have combined to lead the self-described perfectionist singer to one of his legendary set-defining bursts of anger and disappointment. What came, however, was an endearing self-deprecating piss-take which saw the entire band rib Richards and each other over their temperamental ways. An errant note here, a wayward chord there, and the ever-present shyness of the singer were all lightly laughed off, leading to a rare glimpse of what it’s like when a bunch of overtly talented musos get in a room and play just for the fun of it – without the weight of expectation hanging. Heck, even a whimsical call out from the crowd for a version of the ill-fated Augie March hit single One Crowded Hour is knowingly laughed off. It’s clear this is a new Glenn Richards, one who’s infinitely more comfortable with where he’s at and where he’s coming from. And it’s a good thing; it suits him.

CHECK OUT PHOTOS FROM THE GIG HERE