Deep Sea Arcade, Palms, Woe &Flutter @ The Annandale,Sydney (11/11/11)

Tue 15th Nov, 2011 in Gig Reviews

Gold Coast kids Woe & Flutter tumbled onto stage and impressed from the get-go. First impressions were that their sound appeals to elements of garage and noise and that they are clearly big on bands like The Strokes and Pixies, but this set consistently mastered a really wonderful convergence between punk and alternative, even folk, while maintaining an insatiable indie catchiness that most bands yearn to tap into.

These guys have such a great grasp on the subtleties of both music and performance – they seem to know just when to give; a yelp, an onslaught of distortion, a spasm across the stage, and then reel it back in with something more understated, melodic, but just as captivating. Vocalist Dusty Anastassiou has a wonderful range that reaches from Lou Reed/Black Francis monotones to powerful melody lines to some of the best screaming I’ve heard onstage in a very long time.

The single from W&F’s recent self-titled EP, Cities of the Red Night, sounds like a really good Strokes/Queens of the Stone Age hybrid, while maintaining a proper degree of freshness. Other highlights included the tempo changes, ebb and tumult of Hooker Heel Feel as well as I’m Alone, which sounded like Iggy Pop dropping some lines over a much better track cut from The Strokes most recent Angles, or maybe, at a stretch, The White Stripes. As for stage presence and banter, W&F are simultaneously modest and extremely likeable. The simple versatility that these guys seem to have in the way of both songwriting and performing seems to reach well beyond their years (or at least their modest ‘about-one-year of performing’ experience). I haven’t watched a band I thought had so much potential in recent memory.

Palms (featuring Red Riders from Al Grigg and Tom Wallace) make some alright, 80s referencing (more than anything) pop songs with a few tasty guitar parts, and they do create some catchy, danceable moments. I guess I’ve just grown weary, in a large way, of all the indie bands that sound like this now, and it doesn’t really seem that, stylistically or musically, this band has made any significant progression from what was happening in the RR camp, although their songs do seem to be a bit more grounded and less needlessly ambitious. Their stage presence is alright but felt somewhat conceited and this limited the enjoyment of their set for me. The best part of this performance was probably the tandem guitar riffs in the closing song, a number about taking summer away with them. I’d be interested to see, after a bit more time, how these guys develop; but for this summer I might wait a while.

The old Annandale was positively brimming with warm faces by the time Deep Sea Arcade strode onto stage, and apart from lead singer Nic McKenzie’s freakish resemblance in equal parts to 60s pop legends Brian Wilson and Ray Davies, they were greeted with a quite robust, reminiscent 60s/garage pop-y set. McKenzie, while contributing some very nice keyboard parts, also displays some very interesting shades of ‘whine’, from a little Mick Jagger to a strange kind of Bob Dylan; bringing a certain charm to the songs, especially the band’s earlier, more strictly 60s inspired sound. \

The set was entertaining and upbeat but somewhat inconsistent; some bits falling a bit flat and others jumping out and infecting the audience’s suddenly writhing bodies like a powerful disease. I think this inconsistency is largely down to song-writing. Instead of displaying a conscious versatility, some of DSA’s songs just seem to be a bit unsure of themselves, like a melange of styles and references that don’t quite fit. There are some interesting references to bands like The Doors, The Kinks, even Interpol thrown in there, that are quite deliberate I think, but sometimes the way they are executed doesn’t make the most sense.

The band is decidedly strong and confident in a live context, and many of their songs were performed really well on this night, such as Don’t Be Sorry and All The Kids, but others, like Lonely in Your Arms, were less inspiring. The closing stoner anthem featuring a great bassline from Nick Weaver was quite an apt end to the night, giving out just that bit of 60s psych-pop with a defiantly ‘we’re fucked, let’s party’ exit from the stage. And a good night had by all.