Jack Ladder, Batrider @ TheEast Brunswick Club, Melbourne(19/06/2011)

Wed 22nd Jun, 2011 in Gig Reviews

Let me just declare at the outset, that this will be a Nick Cave-free review. And yes, Jack Ladder is very tall. And yes, he was born Tim Rogers. On those subjects, that is all.

Judging by the sense of anticipation permeating through the East Brunswick Club, it appeared that the musical public of Melbourne like the new Jack Ladder even more than they liked the old one.

Batrider, though, were a puzzling choice of support. Their grunge dirges had little in common with the headliner’s Leonard Cohen-via-David Lynch balladeering. With songs that essentially comprised a simple bass riff, some caterwauling and shards of guitar noise, their limitations were plainly evident. The presence of frontwoman Sarah Chadwick, however, is not to be discounted. At times it seemed that her intensity alone was holding the show together. Given this fact, it was fitting that an impromptu solo number, performed whilst a broken string was being replaced, proved to be a highlight.

And then, the main event. Jack Ladder and his newly-christened Dreamlanders strolled nonchalantly onstage, sliding into Beautiful Sound, the opening track from Hurtsville. Comprising Donny Benet on rhythm guitar, Cec Condon on drums,Kirin J Callinan on spooky atmospheric guitar, and a drum machine, The Dreamlanders immediately created a lush atmosphere that, while miles away from the tense, sparse sound of Love Is Gone, was actually indicative of where Ladder’s been at for the last few years. With a wild, grown-out quiff and a natty Lord Byron necktie, Ladder planted himself front and centre, capturing everyone’s attention with a minimum of fuss. Indeed, his former discomfort in a live setting is hard to imagine, such was the ease with which Ladder hammed it up; draping himself all over his mic stand, fluttering his eyelids as if having a fit, and generally relishing the attention. Lead single and album highlight Cold Feet followed; a beautiful, stately rock song, heavy on ambience and regret. The song helped to explain why Ladder felt compelled to give his band a name. Lead by Pike’s stuttering snare drum, it is Callinan that gives the song its meaning; his forlorn, reverb-heavy guitar motifs conveying the sadness that Ladder can’t quite bring himself to express in words.

Next up was Hurtsville, track three on the album, and track three on the night. “We’re just gonna play the record start to finish tonight, hope you don’t mind,” said Ladder almost apologetically, though he really didn’t need to be. A showcase for Ladder’s considerable lyrical ability, Hurtsville was one tragi-comic couplet after another, all about a place where ‘I’ll flip the burgers, and you’ll work the till’. Where is this place? Correct, Hurtsville.

With the exception of the raucous Position Vacant, these three opening tracks set the tone for the evening and the album. Noir-ish, reverb-heavy post-punk soundscapes abounded, sitting somewhere between The Triffids and Twin Peaks in mood. These wide-open musical settings were perfect for Ladder’s way-down, wax-loosening bass voice, perhaps the most appropriate setting he has thus far found for his particular talents. Expansive as the songs were though, somehow a claustrophobic atmosphere pervaded. Presumably Ladder was aware of this when he stuffed these songs with enough knowing clichés, punchlines and turns of phrase to prevent them from becoming truly maudlin. Then again, perhaps he just can’t help himself. Either way, lines like ‘Time is a car in the outside lane/ overtaking in the pissing rain’, and ‘I lost my virginity again last night/ you say it’s gone, but it still puts up a big fight’ guaranteed that the occasionally overlong songs were too stacked with wry jewels to truly outstay their welcomes. The downside to this, however, was the constant sense that Ladder was being evasive. That, musically speaking, he is reluctant to truly open up.

Over all, the songs, and the performance, show that Jack Ladder is moving into an interesting place right now. He takes the craft of songwriting seriously, and he has clearly learned it from some of the best; Leonard Cohen, Tom Waits and David McComb all serving as obvious influences. With the help of The Dreamlanders (in particular Kirin J Callinan), he is starting to develop a sound, albeit a derivative one, to add weight to his craft. Yet, unlike his forbears, the man himself seems to be absent from his songs. Songs of loss are so crammed with similes, metaphors, and other sleights of hand that the listener never truly feels the loss that was the ostensible reason for Ladder to open his mouth in the first place. This notwithstanding, he and his Dreamlanders are onto something rather good, and Sunday’s show at the East Brunswick Club was one to savour.