Live

Rip It Up, Issue 81, 1 April 1984, Page 32

Live

Bruce Russell

Peking Man, Step Chant Unit Hillcrest, March 15. A half-filled pub on a wet Thursday night in Hamilton, the forgotten city. Things can't get much worse or so I thought. Step Chant Unit come complete with all the high-tech and mod cons right down to flashy Simmonds drums. The Music. Well, what can I say? Bland, melodic synth, accompanied by effects-riddled bass, add some crisp synth drums and promptly fall asleep. A massive wash of new wave melodic noise with songs that were far too long and completely unmemorable. Sorry people back to the computer bank.

By the time Peking Man came on the pub had filled, the air had thickened and my mood had started to brighten. Bright, tight, strong funk stuff. The first song was great. The crowd starts to move. As for the second song; wasn't that the first one? 'Sister Midnight' should have been left for Iggy and from here on things went rapidly downhill. Lack of diversity seemed to be a major problem with both of these bands. They fit into a particular mould and do very little to deviate from it. I know it's hard but, gee, come on and give it a go Anthony Nevison The Axemen Otago Uni, March 2. Axemen play wet lunch it

could have been rock'n'roll history in fact it was vaguely disappointing. McCabe, Brannigan and Kowalski had driven down from Christchurch the night before and had had little sleep. Compared to the potential manic fury of their twin axe attack they were manifestly tame. But no matter the Axemen are all about being bad they're a baaad band.

Formed last year out of the rotting remains of a hundred other Sydenham psychedelic sicknesses, the hatchet-handed three recruited a bass player (Mick) and proceeded to conquer the world with NOISE. The Axemen are a sound and a philosophy. Their sound is distortion taken to new limits. Their philosophy is do it yourself, even to the point of making your own equipment (they simply can't buy

gear bad enough). All this, plus they are pioneers on the home cassette thing McCabe is a survivor of nearly four years with the Gorillas, Pete and his Pigeons, the Tokin' Blacks, etc. So, if their cassettes aren't in your record shop, write to Axemen, PO Box 2764, Christchurch, for a listing. Be the first kid on your block with an Axeman cassette, play it to your friends and you'll be the only kid on the block. Bruce Russell

The Rip Empire, March 9. After two years of supports, this weekend was the first time that the Rip had ever played as the major act. This reflects more their lack of career-sense than lack of

musical abiity. These performances vindicated the people who have long admired their songs, their sound, and their persistence against the massed indifference of hostile pub audiences.

Founder-members Alastair Galbraith (guitar/vocals) and Robbie Muir (bass) were joined four months ago by Jeff Harford on drums after the retirement of longstanding skinsman Matthew Ransom and now they're ready to take off.

The good sized, good natured and appreciative Empire audiences on these nights were evidence of the extent of support which the Rip now command. What these people heard was the songs (which are the Rip, their own experiences and dreams), their distinctive trebly Commodore-driven sound, and their tightness. By closingtime neither they nor the crowd had had enough. The Rip are here, but they mean art not business.