The Black Arts EP Launch w/The Bakery, @ The Zoo,Brisbane, 16.03.07

Mon 19th Mar, 2007 in Gig Reviews

Friday night, four bands, $10 gig, The Zoo. Not such a bad prospect for those of us who have found very little solice in the soulless flashier establishments littered throughout the greater vallae morass. It’s The Black Arts’ EP launch and a fairly decent crowd has gathered at the shrine to see what’s on offer from the home team.

First act The Bakery have literally been popping it up around town a fair bit lately. Their blend of harmonic alt-country-rock has a number of kids dancing up front of stage and all look to be having a good time. Although The Bakery have been doing a few gigs, it’s evident they’re still yet to perfect the recipe as a live act. There are a couple of long breaks between songs that drop the tempo of the set and it seems the lead singer hasn’t quite mastered the art of singing and drumming at the same time. That is, the drumming was overly simplistic on the songs where he was singing, which left the tracks feeling flat and somewhat the same in pace and tone.

Unfortunately, which is the case for all of the bands, the sound mixing really lets the side down. Crisp guitar sounds are muddied, the high hat rings too loud in your ears, the snare sounds like plastic and the vocals are lost amongst the overriding white noise out of the PA. The lack-lustre guitar solos pierce aural nerve endings and The Bakery’s inability to tighten up the reigns is a detriment to otherwise solid Aust-indie tracks. Another time, another venue, another PA perhaps.

Next on the bill, with a powerhouse banshee vocalist and unyeilding guitar progressions, Little Vegas and The Fuzz take the evening up a knotch or ten. A change of drumkit has dealt with the high hat and snare issue. Some definite influences are spotted in the musicianship, it’s all distortion and gain on the power chords, but done in a way that this punter very much enjoys alla BRMC, MAG, Brian Jonestown Massacre, early Jane’s et al. Spied as Brisvegasian idie offspring, Sabrina Lawrie of Tongue infamy, the influences and raucous vocal stylings harkening back to Joplin, PJ and other levels of ear tunnelling hardcore rasping coming out of this raven haired dynamo all make sense. Tracks Curse You Later, Happy to Know You and Dare You are all belted out with gutsy aplomb, wild stage coverage and frantic beatings on a white tambourine.

Overall, the set lost me half way through, with Sabrina taking a little too much liberty with the lyrical and vocal improvisations, the boys in the band offering only off-key harmonies and the songs starting to sound too alike to be discerned from each other. Regardless, they all looked very young and thus have a long way to go. A slot on an xtreme sport soundtrack is not beyond the realms of reality for these guys in years to come.

Put Benicio Del Toro’s Dr Gonzo from Fear n Loathing in a shirt and tie, give him an electric acoustic guitar, a band to play with and a dream of being Jack Black and you’ve got The Rocketsmiths. Mesculin on the merry-go-round it was not, and no way was it as entertaining. Four songs in and it’s still debatable what these guys are meant to be playing. Is it quirky pop-country? Are they trying to be They Might Be Giants on acid? The sound from the PA is really so bad that parts of the songs decend into pure noise and the whole thing is only audible if you stick your fingers in your ears. Then, and only then, can you get a sense of how the tracks are supposed to sound. Unless, of course, studio production can’t do anything for them either and they should get back into the garage and have a quiet word to themselves. Conversely, the stage show is frenetic if not fantastic and the kids up the front are enjoying the random sing-a-long moments. Toward the end of the set, The Boy Who Cried Misery is probably the most cohesive, clear, tight song they’ve done all night, but it doesn’t stop a number of the punters from calling theirs done and heading down the red stairs even before the headliners have hit the stage.

The Black Arts are introduced by a comedian that has failed to hold the crowd’s attention. When they take the stage and the visuals start on the back drop there’s a distinct indication that all the long hair, tight pants, facial growths and boho stylings would have them striving for something along the lines of The Black Crowes meets The Black Keys. Montages of American iconography characterising the visuals cements this view. From Mount Rushmore to monster school bus stunt demonstrations, it’s all deep south wannabe. And this is what they should focus on. The shining moments in the set are when these guys keep it close to thumpin’ swamp rock alla Kings of Leon. This is clearly demonstrated with their version of Johnny Cash’s Fulsom Prison being the standout track of their set. The EP is a fairly standard mix of generic songs by capable musicians. Triple J rotation aside, it’s evident studio production values are a necessity for this band right now.

Side note: in order to wreck a singing voice through the consumption of straight Jim Beam (so tryhard rock… excess has been done to excess and we all know what alcohol has done to Australia’s foremost rock legend’s range, (god bless you Timmy), so learn something… real punters don’t think it’s cool) and a story referring to the number of cigarettes you consume each day, you have to have a good voice to start with. Squarking and posturing just doesn’t cut it and doesn’t do your band, or your other talents on the keyboards justice. A disappointing live launch by a band whose recorded offering promised much, much more.

SYIC
Queen Nahs