Rebel Rebel Take 2:

Since opening night way back in May – Liars, Shout Out Louds, and what really should have been an amazing spectacle – I’d been avoiding Rebel Rebel. Make no mistake, the concept is gold, I just found the end product a huge letdown and, to be honest, more than a little creepy. But the prospect of catching one of my favourite bands of the last few months, Ratatat, for a mere fifteen dollars, lured me back. Recent, stunning images of the instrumental Brooklyn duo becoming the first band to ever play New York City’s Guggenheim Museum further rekindled my hopes that Home Nightclub’s multi-floored, gladiatorial amphitheatre could play generous host to bands of the indie variety.

So it was with trepidation that I approached the venue. An early glance at the run sheet confirmed the night’s headliners to be hitting the stage at 12.30am. I was disappointed to see that Brisbane popsters I Heart Hiroshima wouldn’t be on until 1.30am. Due to transport issues I would have to miss their set but it sure would have been interesting to witness their “bass-less” line-up in such an environment. OK it was 10pm now and there was still plenty to keep the growing crowd occupied.

Upstairs the sound of rapturous beats and elated shrieks told me something was going right. Rizzo & Pizzo were taking their two-timing act to a moderate but excitable crowd. Self-described as “Electro/Trash/Rap/Crump-It-Hump It-Let-It-Bump-It”, the pair brought a sense of sweaty urgency and very, very questionable ethics to the dancefloor. Sounding and looking like Peaches split into two cross-dressing males or a back-to-their-roots Scissor Sisters, Rizzo & Pizzo spat dodgy rhymes over clunky homemade beats. It was good timez, it was radicool and happening in a far out way.

Back downstairs Sekiden, another Brisbane band, took to the main stage with little fuss. These guys have always been on the periphery of major success and they play a tight show. It’s cutesy indie-synth-pop and it tires somewhat if you’re not in the mood but the band are very good at what they do – and that includes well-timed pop-punk jumps (you know the ones). Recent single Up in the Air had members of the audience attempting similar moves but not looking quite as slick. Sekiden’s half-hour set flew by in an entertaining if not totally engaging way, and after some Kato DJ action it was time for Ratatat to come a-knocking.

In a way Ratatat are the quintessential Rebel Rebel band. At a time where music cultures are colliding, trendsters are digging on hip hop and electro in addition to the staple diet of rock, Ratatat combine all elements while establishing their own, unique sound. Yes, I was excited to see whether their polished and extremely intricate recordings would cross-over to the live arena. And, importantly, I wanted to know would they lean more towards the lap-top hunching hinted at by their lap-pop reputation, or would they bring the colossal riffs worthy of the coliseum done Home-style?

At first I was taken aback by the minimalist stage set-up – just Mike Stroud on guitar and Evan Mast on bass tucked away in one corner wearing oversized novelty glasses – but my worries were allayed as soon as the big beat to “Lex” started up. The first single off their latest album Classics was the perfect opener, showing just why Ratatat are held in such high regard. The audience – a motley crew – went mad for the follicle raising hair-rock riffs and pulsating beats. To our left Stroud was doing his best to join in: long hair a mess, flailing limbs – a totally trashed demeanour but masterful playing. Dudes mixed it up between their two albums, alternating between fast- and slow-jams, all replicated impeccably. Some might possibly say that they were too like their recorded works, but they would not have been speaking the popular opinion. For an act that works so exclusively within the one tonal range, Ratatat managed to mix it up just enough to keep it lively throughout, helped by some shifty pedal pushing and a similarly simple projected backdrop. While Stroud personified the band’s exuberant side, Mast was more retrained, plugging away and forever busy, although a few wobbly moments gave away the seemingly sober facade. There was also the matter of a questionable backing tape but maybe that was just my eyes having trouble keeping up with their playing.

While the band kept the bangers apart – Wildcat, Loud Pipes, Germany to Germany and the epic Seventeen Years brought the biggest responses – some of the mid-tempo tracks like Nostrand and Gettysburg brought a melancholy mood to the night. There is an inherent sadness to much of Ratatat’s work that sounds just as good live as the more upbeat tunes. But they come to Rebel Rebel to dance and dance they did (it helps when you don’t have to remember the words), although the sound at times muffled some of the more intricate pieces. Set closer Tacobel Canon was perhaps the worst affected as a delicate cicada buzz turned into thick indistinguishable sludge, but not many seemed to worry. I’m still sceptical but so long as bands like Ratatat keep the good times rolling into town, I can’t complain too loudly.