Kemblastock @ Kembla Oval,Mount Kembla

Wed 13th Dec, 2006 in Gig Reviews

Behind Wollongong in a volcanic fold along the Illawarra escarpment is the tiny village of Mount Kembla.  Coming across like a picture postcard of a land lost in time, in reality it’s a place that brings together local and dedicated environmentalists to help clear and clean up littered areas of Mount Kembla and to re-generate others.  With its lush rolling hills and bush-character ambience it provides a gorgeous backdrop for the small-scale, high-spirited music festival that is, in its seventh year, Kemblastock.  Featuring a mix of genres from garage to psych to swamp it is an all ages event guaranteed to please most punters with a motley of trash’n’treasure stalls.  Entry is free though donation is much appreciated.

Arriving at 12.30 it wavered over the too hot mark for a festival but there’s plenty of shade under the gum trees so with blanket and pillow I find a spot on the hill.  Missing Guiseppe & The Ram Jams and The Things I find The Gruntled are half-way through their set on the back of the big-rig stage.  It’s a solid performance but unfortunately drums are flat and guitars and keys sorely compete with each other.  The bagpipes excessively drown out the hard work put in by its hurdy-gurdy player and hence we’re unable to hear its full reverb.

The Carcinogenics stick to a standard hard and fast rock formula with ample guitar solos who are quite capable of singing about anxiety prone love songs and M16s while breaking a string or two.  Shared vocals highlight the guitarist who can blast out what can only be described as an awfully tortured roar that could challenge any volcanic eruption.  However, their trademark sound became too uniform and I lost interest but it’s a raging set leaving much musical disorder behind.

The Mess Makers hit the stage and there are still sound problems particularly in hearing lead vocals but they make do, blaring out a chaotic friction seeing them take pleasure in mixing stoner rock and 1960s surf via The Kinks.  Vocals had a rock lizard drawl sometimes evocative of The Saints’ Chris Bailey and with furious bass they gradually improved on upping the commotion with some catchy songs and good intro’s.

Now about Jack Nasty Face and first impressions.  In making a grand entrance, raffish lead starlet, Jack Nasty kicks up the dust in a 1965 Mercedes convertible clad in black, wearing a top hat and wielding his walking cane about in a dashing and debonair fashion.  With a tambourine-playing/chicken-suit wearing individual plus daft dancing character in koala outfit proudly escorting him, people hurriedly flock to the front.  Drummer, Binx, muscles in on power-throb beats while the lead guitarist and bassist slink about making a dark experimental/rockabilly swamp brew.  For me, it’s an instant hot musical turn-on and I’m feeling giddy and easy to please.  Jack Nasty himself is a fatal concoction.  Part lysergic Willy Wonka, part mad-eyed Dr Jekyll with a twist of Alice Cooper he cut the mood with bullet-proof foot-stomping songs one moment to lovelorn ballads the next delivering them with a sense of humour.  With brash intro’s and dramatic finishes they’re too heavy on the theatrics to be semplice sempre and I’m wondering where they’ve been all my life.

The eclectic line-up continues with locals Malakai.  Giving off a weighty sound grounded in a dense haze of loud heavy guitar riffs and some funky bass there’s variation to the set.  With ease their lead singer smoothly fluctuated between traditional hard rock singing and Oz rap.  There’s a hint of soft-core metal and they also lowered the mood to soft rock proportions with a driving urgency that seemed life-changing for those who were keen to catch them up close.

Melbourne’s Firewitch are three guys executing an extremely dark and dirty sound that penetrates the eardrum where you’re pushing those ear-plugs in just a little bit deeper.  Vocals are not included so the music speaks for itself through its forked tongue of aggression and diabolism.  A little slow to warm-up, the dark and even darker undertones unfurled.  Looking at Firewitch’s myspace, their theme is “A guide to burning witches in the modern age”.  First question:  Wasn’t three hundred years of female gendercide enough?  Second question: Doesn’t being in the modern age mean we’ve progressed beyond burning witches?  Half-way through my brother-in-law asks if the set is a rehearsal or performance.  Good question!!  Now my intention here is not to get burnt at the stake but I wasn’t sure and either way they left me cold wanting more variety in song structure.  All up, questionable.

Female rocker revolutionaries Bracode are up next and the contrast couldn’t be more delightful.  A glam, screeching spectacular minus the froth, their presence is stark and immediate and it’s the men now running for their lives.  Dressed in white there’s nothing pure about them and subtlety is not their bag.  As political feminist absurdists they confused the hell out of the closed minded with their side-show punk but lead vocalist Bec could have provided some texture amongst the rage and the screaming.  Nevertheless they powered through with Bec marching up and down the stage singing gut-renching falsetto with some operatic tones.  End result?  A kooky kabaret freakout.  Nice.

The Alohas bring North Beach to the hills with a new-wave vibe of upbeat 1960s guitar twang appearing and sounding smooth.  The surfadelic crown wears well on them and their swinging rock n roll inspire energetic beats and hip rhythms getting the crowd up and on their feet and it’s become a bubbly Hawaii Five-O psych out. 

Last up is Wollongong institution Fugg.  It’s punk with harmonies and a devil-may-care attitude that flickers in their performance.  The Ramones are given a once over with Today Your Love, Tomorrow The World uncovering the rest of the 1-2-3-4 undergrowth of their songs.  If there’s such a thing, they embrace a ‘Frenzal Rhomb aesthetic’(!) with fast massive beats delivering punk without the trite bits.

In essence, Kemblastock unearthed a day of eclectic talent put together to highlight the fragility of a local ecosystem.  It was more than a worthy cause.  It was priceless and it was precious and there’s definitely gold in them thar hills.  Cheers Marty and Steve and well done!  Hope to see you next year!