Interpol - Turn On The Bright Lights

It was always going to be hard choosing between two CD’s of equal relevance and quality. I refer to Interpol’s debut and sophomore releases “Turn On The Bright Lights’ and ‘Antics’, respectively. In the end, I chose “Turn On The Bright Lights”, arguably one of the finest, defining and musically poignant debut releases of the post punk era. Interpol are often referred to as the “best dressed” band in the business, (hailing from of New York I guess it's understandable) but it’s their music that sets them apart.

Interpol’s music is dark, broody and full of angst (as are most of their lyrics) yet paradoxically melodic. Carlos Dengler’s deep driving bass, harmonized by the intonation of Daniel Kessler’s rhythmic guitar layered with the lead vocals of Paul Banks, whose low deep voice has often been compared to the late Ian Curtis of Joy Division (then again which singer hasn’t?) rounded out by Samuel Fogarino’s ubiquitous snare drum beat, characterise and define Interpol’s, critically acclaimed, sound and style.

TOTBL, effectively and articulately introduces the distinctive sound of these Indie rockers, with the opening title track, aptly named “Untitled” challenging us to absorb and process the music, without the requirement for an actual track name (effortlessly aided by the extended guitar and drum intro). “Obstacle1” follows next; a favourite track played live, openly expressing an emotive quality to Paul Bank’s low vocal range. “Say Hello To The Angels” (a perfect opener to any mixed tape compilation) instantly delves into a flurry of grinding guitar riffs, which not only lay the song’s foundation but also immerse you into its melodious appeal.

“NYC”, an ode to their city of residence, an introspective reflection on life in the big apple, sometimes bittersweet and fastidious but always becoming and nurturing.” Roland” an accelerating and explosive piece, with obvious lineage to the punk genre, powers through and doesn’t disappoint those who like their music fast and loud. Then there is the somewhat ambiguously titled “Stella Was A Diver And She Was Always Down” – take time and ponder its meaning. My favourite track, “PDA”, is an appealing song that captivated me very late one night and incited my appreciation of Interpol; containing a fantastic instrumental bridge that serenades the subconscious.

The Australian release contained a bonus track “Specialist” which lyrically, is every bit as moody as Interpol can conjure musically. So as PDA claims, there are “200 couches”, so, pick one, lock and load TOTBL, assume the horizontal and assimilate in this highly enjoyable musical moment.

Whitley - Go Forth Find Mammoth

The feeling of unbridled anticipation is one of the simple pleasures that the enjoyment of music brings. It marks the beginning of a beautiful journey and a moment in time, discovering and sharing an artist’s personal reflections and thoughts through their lyrics and melodic sound. Having heard Whitley’s amazing and infectious first single “Head, First, Down” from his, then upcoming, sophomore CD “Go Forth Find Mammoth” (a month out from its official release) that anticipation was well and truly set and growing.

I first heard Whitley about 12 months earlier, performing a stripped back acoustic version of ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” and what impressed me, besides his original arrangement, was his voice; a low, husky, whispering tone that put a totally different slant on that timeless pop gem. Yes, I know, ABBA that guilty pleasure much akin to the “M” word, an activity everybody participates in but no one admits to, anyway I digress. That was the last I heard of Whitley (real name Lawrence Greenwood) the 22-year-old musician who hails from Melbourne Australia, for a considerable while but it would not be the last.

“Go Forth, Find Mammoth “(released 31 October, 2009) is a beautifully crafted and addictive musical collection of folk infused pop, that takes you down a path of life’s experiences, setbacks, joys and unexpected mysteries. From the CD’s opening instrumental song “1945”, you seem instantly swept away by gorgeous ambient sounds, subliminally substituted for any lyrical content, effortlessly morphing into the second track “Poison In Our Pocket”. From here the combination of acoustic guitar (fingers plucking away up and down the fretboard) and those unmistakable Whitley vocals, take us on a hypnotic journey allowing us to reflect on times that may have once past us by. The same could be said of “Winter Warmer Sky” and “Killer” where the former acts as the perfect precursor that guides us dreamily into the latter, suddenly opening with the successive progression of catchy chords. However, in my opinion, it’s the lush vocals of Hazel Brown that completely mesmerise the listener, perfectly complementing Whitley on this track.

The sound of a rainstorm introduces (and subsequently completes) the reflective and emotionally stirring track “The Piece You Took From Me”, the interesting fact is that the sound isn’t a synthetic reproduction but an actual recording taken during a storm: - only organic additives allowed on this CD and absolutely nothing wasted. The journey ends, pretty much in the same way that it started, with the coupling of interrelated and intertwining tracks, this time “Facades I” and “Facades II”, provide a fitting closure, a moment that musically marks the end of the road and a time to appreciate.

You can’t help but listen to the stories that unfold musically before you, the entire CD is honestly “all killer with no filler”, no sub standard tracks have been inserted in a bid to flesh out its content. This being said, it’s a CD that really needs to be listened to in chronological order, otherwise you lose the sense of the intended magical and mystical journey that Whitely cleverly paves in the form of the carefully arranged track listing.

As with Silverchair, MGMT and more recently Muse, Whitley has the ability to captivate and attract alternate and mainstream listeners alike, without compromising his musical credibility. So give your ears, mind and soul an early Christmas present, “go forth” and discover this hidden gem of 2009 from a truly gifted and talented artist.

Magic Dirt - Annandale Hotel 06/11/09

“F#&%! Yeah” both articulately and succinctly describes the Magic Dirt experience, in particular to the night of November 6th at Sydney’s Annandale Hotel.

The Annandale Hotel is the Geelong garage/grunge/rock band's home away from home and tonight’s concert was always going to be something special and spiritual. The band came together to pay special tribute to their fallen band mate and co founder, Dean Turner, who passed away from a rare form of cancer a few months earlier, the night was completely sold out . This however did not for one moment mean that this special occasion was going to be a sombre affair, the band rocked, charged, blazed and owned the stage from the opening song, that’s what Dean would have wanted and the only way he knew to deliver a Magic Dirt performance.

Front women Adalita Srsen , as I have always maintained, is the most energetic, entertaining, enigmatic and charismatic female lead singer in Australia (and among the very best within the international music industry) if there is a better woman then she must be so indie, alternate, independent and underground that she’s playing a nomadic cave somewhere in the vast Australian wilderness. Adalita, rocked the stage, traversed the Annandale bar and, in a noble gesture to her hard core fans, jumped off stage into the mosh pit floor for a “meet and greet” and for a period of 5 minutes played lying on her back flanked by her adoring fans and to her credit, she never missed a chord!

Drummer Adam Robertson was totally in his own zone, watching him pound those skins with complete abandon at times he looked like he was channelling late great “skinsmen” Keith Moon and John Bonham. Sweat pouring out of him, almost in synch with the beat, his handy pack of Becks ensured a source of quick liquid replenishment. Guitarist Raul was amped for a huge night, from the time of warming up he was ready to give all and he did, enjoyment personified, rock jamming guitar licks a plenty and he didn’t wane for a second throughout the hour and a half set. Matt Sonic, who replaced Dean, did so with much grace and conviction, a long time friend of Dean’s there was no one more fitting and capable to fill that role, he was solid and did Dean proud.

The setlist, handpicked by the band, primarily consisted of songs that were special to Dean, which meant that they pretty much spanned Magic Dirt’s entire back catalogue and also resulted in the band playing songs like “Snow White”, which by their own admission, had not been played in a long while. For die hard fans this was a definite bonus and they lapped it up with complete insatiable gusto, which drove Adalita into a further rock inspired frenzy. Other Deans favourites that were cranked to the max were ”Dirty Jeans”, “Vulcanella”, “White Boy” and “All My Crushes”, to name just a few.


There was a brief pause about a third of the way into the night where the band stopped to honour Dean. In a hearted felt speech by Adalita, which had the crowd applauding for several minutes before she could continue, she was openly moved by this gesture, then continuing in an emotional epilogue honouring her cofounder and dear friend. A beautiful moment complemented by an ambience and an audience that was engaged in the moment.

As Adalita eluded to earlier on, the night belonged to Dean and the incredible legacy he left behind, through Magic Dirt, his music will live for a considerably long time, an amazing band, an unforgettable night and a heartfelt goodbye… Dirty Jeans forever.

White Lies - Metro Theatre 28/07/09

There are some bands that don’t require a magnanimous back catalogue of albums, an expensive live stage set and excessive, repetitive mainstream exposure to prove their worth, White Lies definitely fit into this category. With only a debut CD under their belt and a relatively low key profile in Australia, it was questionable of what to anticipate in a live environment, which was to be expected. To say they pleasantly surprised, would be an understatement of paramount proportion.

They entered the stage to a sombre atmosphere and subdued lighting, a reflection of their music and musical style, often described as a form of dark and moody 80’s tones, much akin to The Smiths and Echo and The Bunnymen.

White Lies actually sound better live than they do on their debut CD, ‘To Lose My Life’, Harry McVeigh’s voice is sublime and powerful, the comparisons to Ian Curtis ( Joy Division ) and Paul Banks ( Interpol ) have been numerous and well justified but Harry does hold his own, if anything his vocal range is superior to the aforementioned two. If Harry is the voice of the band then the rhythm section of Charles Cave, bass, and Jack Lawrence-Brown, drums, are its foundation , combining in an almost effortless flow of bass line twang and rhythmic beat keeping them all in unison.

The setlist primarily consisted of songs from their only CD but this meant that the crowd was well versed with the lyrics which only added to the atmosphere. This however did not detract one bit from the performance that these Londoners gave on the night.

The live version of "Fifty On Our Foreheads” was given a fantastic extended run, “The Price Of Love” showcased the versatility and depth of Harry’s vocal range, “To Lose My Life” injected by Charles’ driving bass forged a gloomy, yet compelling and captivating semblance of dark sound. They also played “Taxidermy” a B side single from “To Lose My Life”, which would have been a song foreign to all but the die hard fans. The surprise of the night, for me anyway, was the terrific version, Portishead’s; song “The Rip”, which would have done the trip hop pioneers proud.

Of course, the night would not have been complete without the song that started it all, “Death”, which fittingly ended their set, you would think that they must have grown tired of playing this signature song but they showed no sign of it. As expected the crowd went crazy and the band obliged their exuberance by delivering it with a hard edge and sullen passion, that culminated with Jack standing over his drums extracting every last beat out of the infectious song.

Unfortunately my only complaint was that there was no encore, the night pretty much ended after “Death” was played, kind of fitting for the so called “dark and gloomy” trio, who are primed and screaming out to be heard in a stadium/arena environment.

Quite a solid and brilliant performance from a bunch of guys just in their early 20’s, the question is what will their sophomore offering be, only time will tell but for now the future of alternative rock is in good hands… “Love the feeling when we lift off……..”

The Church - Factory Theatre 15/03/09

There is something special in seeing Steve Kilbey on stage, front centre, leading The Church, completely in his zone, eyes fixed on his bass guitar, concentrating, taking rhythmic lead, face expressionless his emotions and thoughts resonating through his music. It was always going to be hard to write a non-biased review, given that these guys are one of my all time favourite bands, idolised since high school but judging by the crowd’s reaction at the Factory that Sunday night, not one iota of bias was needed.

“God I've been asleep so long, I've been away, Back from software limbo the natives call today…” were the lines to the opening song of the night but before those familiar lyrics were uttered, Steve’s grinding bass and Marty Wilson-Piper’s grungy guitar riffs transported the crowd through an extended electric, fever injected introduction that left no doubt that after a long hiatus The Church were back and meant business. The song was “Tantalized” and the night was underway, we were about to experience a lesson on what Oz music was all about, it had nothing to do with a fancy light show, nothing to do with eclectic props or costumes, it was all about the music and the enjoyment of still being a “band” after almost 30 years together.

Marty Wilson Piper was beaming all night, a smile that could not be removed, he looked like a mountain man and when the crowd yelled at him to get a haircut, he looked out and blurted the defiant word “Never”. Even the normally reserved Peter Koppes managed a smile or two and nailed all those traditional solo’s of his, Tim was a madman on the drums, he was on another level and Steve, well he was the eternal entertainer, always keeping in touch with the crowd, in pace with the mood that was being projected from the masses.

The set list included a mixture of songs from "The Blurred Crusade" years right through to their latest "Untitled #23" offering, a highly amusing moment was when Steve introduced “Almost With You” as the true Oz Rock Song, which it was, but you could sense a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Marty’s trademark 12-string guitar gave a surreal and ethereal sound to classics like “Almost With You” and “Under The Milky Way” a very moving experience to hear. The new songs like “Pangaea” and “Happenstance” were beautiful peaces to experience live, so I am looking forward to getting my hands on the new material.

The standout of the night, for me, was the Blurred Crusade’s classic single “You Took”. This song certainly took everything out of the band, every member was pounding, squirming, sweating, straining through every note and at one point, of this 8 minute plus number, Steve was sitting down playing the bass guitar from on top of his lap, Marty was doing rounds of the stage, Tim was drumming away to oblivion and Peter brought out the slide guitar. What an effort, what a performance, what an experience for all of us to witness.

The Church came back twice after the main set ended, they wanted to give more, they wanted to articulate the enjoyment they felt, they didn’t want to end and the crowd responded accordingly. It was well after midnight when they finally played that last note but the quote of the night belonged to Steve, when during the last encore Peter was tuning his guitar in readiness for the next song, Steve turns to face him and said “F#ck the tuning, lets play”.. Quite a fitting statement that summed up the band’s exuberance that night.

Nine Inch Nails - Hordern Pavilion 24/02/09

“Dot Dot Dot”, had I tried to write this blog any earlier, it's about as coherent as I could have been in trying to find the words to describe the night Nine Inch Nails played the Hordern Pavilion. Even today, 4 days on from that night, seeking solace on the NSW South Coast ( a trip where my dad had to endure "The Downward Spiral", he wasn’t impressed and in complete disbelief that I paid to see a live performance by these guys ), I still am struggling to explain what I had witnessed, an event that will never be forgotten and one that will go down as one of the most memorable of my life, for many reasons.

Like Radiohead and others before them, I stopped listening to NIN in the mid 90’s at the time "Closer" was being murdered by mainstream radio. It wasn’t until about 3 years ago about the time “With Teeth” was released, that I realised what I had missed out on and it was the tour of the same name in Oz that I didn’t experience but I wasn’t going to miss out on them this time.

Trent Reznor, NIN head honcho, can be one moody, angst ridden and intense individual, at least that was what I was prepared for. Firstly let me say that many thanks goes to a very dear friend of mine, an absolute die hard NIN fan and one of immense knowledge of the musical world, in particular the dark side of NIN. She pretty much psyched me up for the big day and was an abundant source of information as I tried to catch up on almost 15 years of lost NIN history. If I was going to see these guys live, I was going to be well and truly prepared. Suffice to say my friend had also given much prior warning about Trent and his moods swings and that the night could go either way, so I went prepared for the unexpected which in turn added an air of mystery and excitement.

Well, Trent definitely didn’t live up to his sordid reputation, in fact I have never seen any one performer with so much concern about the great spread of punters before him as Trent displayed on that night. From the intense humid heat, he made sure that plenty of water was being dispatched to the ever thirsty crowd, right through to the power grid blowout. Oh yes, NIN blew the power in the Hordern Pavilion, you can’t get any more “Rockin Out” than that folks. Anyhow, Trent came out on two occasions, megaphone in hand, to explain why there was no power and for everyone to remain patient, for 40 minutes without power the crowd sat tight and eventually erupted in a chorus of “Hurt”, nobody was going anywhere. So this brings me onto the night itself, one that transpired in two parts, thanks to the blackout, which in my opinion just added to the experience.

The set list itself consisted of songs that spanned the ever long back catalogue of NIN, many of which were unknown to me due to my self imposed exile from the NIN phenomenon but this did not detract one little bit from my intense enjoyment of the night. The lighting was phenomenal from blinding intense light to the moody blues and reds all juxtaposed to create a surreal emotional wrenching environment. If the NIN fans came expecting a sound reminiscent to that of their CD’s, they would have been disappointed, it was a stripped back sound, raw and full of attitude, if fact you could see Trent and crew winching and squirming their way through the songs, they seemed to put every bit of raw emotion into what they sang and this set the crowd off.

I was standing about 6 rows back from the stage, towards the right hand side speaker stack just to the side of Robin Finck, so I had a great view of both Trent and the guitar maestro Robin, from where I was the sound was perfect and a quick look back at the crowd confirmed a complete sell out.

A big sincere sorry to those who read this blog expecting a blow by blow description of each song but my recollection of the night, encapsulated in this blog is based on pure emotion that I still feel and for me it was a matter of timing, I had to find the right time to put my feelings to words, too soon it would have been a nonsensical mess and too much later the true intense power of the night would have been lost.

One final word of thanks to Wendy, the night would have been lost on me without your continual feed of information combined with your passion for all things NIN, for that I owe you my most sincere thanks, which culminated in one of my most memorable nights and the best concert I have experienced.

And as a parting sentiment, in the words of NIN, “I remember everything”.