Sugar Mountain @ The Forum,Melbourne (14/01/2012)

Wed 18th Jan, 2012 in Gig Reviews

Though It was impossible to fault the line-up or the venue, I nonetheless felt a degree of trepidation as I entered Forum for the second annual Sugar Mountain festival. This reviewer has seen too many festivals live or die on account of secondary (and easily avoided) quibbles; choice of venue, transport options, logistics, sound bleed, et cetera. The Forum is real nice, but would Sugar Mountain be a festival, or a really long, tiring gig?

Melbourne’s own Pets With Pets opened proceedings with a typically loopy set. Songs from their recent Saturday Aquatic Pixie Acid were stretched to within an inch of their lives, before being buried under layers of feedback and reverb. Adding to the general sense of musical sadism, head Pet Zayd Thring howled like a man in a very troubling psychic realm indeed. Of course, none of this is meant to suggest that the performance was sub-par; though challenging, Pet With Pets can nonetheless be thrilling and beautiful, like a runaway glacier. When paired with Kit Webster’s stunning projections, it was an appropriately mind-expanding way to kick off the evening.

A John Maus live performance basically redefines cathartic. Maus performed alone, basically singing along, karaoke-style, to his own (excellent) album. He stalked the stage like a caged animal, shrieking, beating himself over the head, and generally looking on the verge of emotional collapse. As performance art it was interesting, as a live show it was just weird. It was a spectacle all right, but not necessarily the good kind.

World’s End Press, recently signed to Liberation, endured a difficult set mix-wise. As performers they were as engaging as ever, but singer John Parkinson’s vocals varied wildly in volume, and drummer Tom Gould discarded his headphones in frustration after their very first song. Still, the guys can rock a party; with a batch of new songs that equal or surpass their recent output, along with their kinetic performance, their ongoing rise seems assured. I’m not too sure about Parkinson’s hot-pink bucket hat, though.

Sequestered away from the ‘Womb’ Stage (the Forum’s main room) and the Mess + Noise stage (perched on the foyer’s mezzanine balcony) was the ‘Summit’, a gorgeous, all-seated theatre high up in the labyrinthine Forum complex. As well as being a lovely room, it served as a quarantine zone for all the lower-profile, more demanding, and just plain weird acts that wouldn’t necessarily translate to the festival’s other spaces. It was here that Juliana Barwick performed a set that sounded rather like Enya being covered a capella, with loops. Though that may sound like a horrifying proposition, it actually worked, with the serene choir of Julias creating a healing tide of sound.

Less peaceful were the offerings of Sun Araw. Three dudes manning piles of arcane electronics, guitars and a sax, they poked at abrasion like a curious child with a stick, testing its limits. Accompanying them was artist Ben Barretto, manning an ‘automated painting’ installation on the left side of stage. Whilst both the installation and the abrasion were interesting, their performance definitely grew more engaging as they moved towards slightly more conventional song forms and sounds, even allowing a prog-ish element to creep in – much to this reviewer’s confusion/delight. Touring mates and kindred spirits Prince Rama followed a similar tack, marrying avant garde instincts to a decidedly 70s aesthetic approach. Underneath the glittery, tribal-goddess accoutrements, sisters Taraka and Nimai Larson worked through their repertoire of spaced-out synth-hymns, replete with wails and incantations that seemed to make more sense in light of their Hare Krishna upbringing.

Credit for Sugar Mountain coming off as a festival must go to the various artists responsible for the installations, projections and design flourishes that pulled the disparate bands and spaces together. Perched on the foyer mezzanine, the Mess + Noise stage was as much a sculptural piece as a stage(credit to Rhys Mitchell and Raphael Rizzo), whilst Matsuri Yamana’s glowing, smoke-emitting cotton clouds floated above the stairway. Back at the Womb, Kit Webster’s dizzying op art projections doused the stage, the Romanesque surrounds, and the backs of audience members, all with ever-changing colours and patterns. Special mention must also be made of Dylan Martorell’s incredible automated band, a pulley-and-motor-operated guitar, xylophone and drum combo that was lit in multicolour neon. The whole stage was strewn with technological offcuts in various states of decay, giving the whole scene a nightmarish cyberpunk feel.

Back at the ‘Womb’, the much-acclaimed, much-anticipated tUnE-yArDs (Hereby referred to as Tune-Yards) were on next. Built around the formidable talents of Merrill Garbus, the Tune-Yards template essentially involves, um, chaos. Initiating songs with looped, real-time drums, Garbus’ compositions then proceed to fly all over the map; sparse, rhythmic bass and guitar lines dart and double back, and a pair of skronking saxophones provide shrill counterpoint. Front and centre, though, is Garbus’ incredible voice. Building intricate, baroque loops, she proceeded to soar above the chaotic buzz with the most powerful, expressive and flexible voice that this reviewer has heard in a very long time indeed. Opening track Gangsta grabbed attention, and a moment of uncomprehending silence hung in the air before anyone in the crowd had the presence of mind to cheer. The ear-twisting Bizness was the other, predictable, highlight. The only downside was that Garbus’ lyrics, which are as ingenious and as full of heart as her songs, were mostly inaudible. Nonetheless, it was a stunning set.

Thee Oh Sees set up in a flying V with singer/keyboardist Brigid Dawson as the anchor. The band’s twin drummers set up ahead of her, with guitarists John Dwyer and Petey Dammit! in front of them. The sheer power of their unusual line-up was undeniable; however, as is often the case, it was offset with a corresponding lack of subtlety. Still their extended garage rave-ups were like aural catnip to the sizeable audience, and they departed to rousing applause.

It mightn’t be particularly fashionable, but Deerhoof’s one-of-a-kind collision of jazz, noise, rock and pop really bursts into technicolour live. The trio of drummer Greg Saunier and guitarists John Dieterich and Ed Rodriguez go at their instruments with incredible zeal, mixture of passion, revulsion and child-like glee. Saunier in particular has a seriously unhealthy relationship with his drums; caressing them one moment, before cracking the snare so hard that his broken stick was sent flying in a parabolic arc over the Forum audience. Their energy was infectious, and transcended the technical issues that dogged their set (feedback, monitoring issues, broken strings). Of course, singer and bassist Satomi Matsuzaki is what keeps Deerhoof from descending into prog muso wankery, and her affectless vocals floated across the cacophony, to startling effect. The commitment and the professionalism, not to mention the sheer ability, of Deerhoof served as a benchmark for the younger bands on the bill.

The event climaxed not with a bang, but with a set of cool, wigged-out hip hop from Seattle’s Shabazz Palaces. The duo, rapper/programmer Ishmael Butler and multi-instrumentalist Tendai Maraire, have been garnering preposterous amounts of hype, and it’s not hard to see why. In the music world, it’s rare to see something completely new; in the reactionary environment of US hip hop, it’s rarer still. Their spaced, sub-bass-laden sound is interesting, but Shabazz Palaces’ entire approach to beats and rhymes – their deployment, their purpose, their possibilities – sets them apart. Put simply, they inhabit an entire aesthetic world of their own making.

However, one person’s innovation is another’s uncertainty, and plenty of people seemed to struggle with their low-key approach, and their lack of musical reference points. Also, the Forum’s sound system really struggled with the heavy bass throbs that form the bedrock of many of their songs. Still, Butler’s flow was coolness personified, and Maraire’s contributions on percussion and added a degree of spontaneity often lacking in a hip hop performance; their little synchronised hand dances were pretty great too.

All in all Sugar Mountain delivered in spades; the marquee acts delivered, a few locals boosted their stocks, and the whole thing held together as an event, permeated by a distinct character.