Live!

Rip It Up, Issue 158, 1 September 1990, Page 34

Live!

THE MALCHICKS, JAN HELLRIEGAL, LETS’S PLANET Monitor Party, Gluepot, August 25. One minute info their fuzzed out, razor edged wall of dirge set and the Malchicks had a crowd of interested listeners standing at their feet. { They looked like this: one female drummerin green lurex topand a mangled mass of ink red hair,one . peroxide blonde female bass player who shared vocals with the gangly guitarist on her right. The guitariston her left hung his head so his long hair shrouded his face, wore his guitar slung low and played with passionate - preoccupation (a bit of aJ. Mascis clone but who's complaining). _ The vocal style could have been a bit less unassuming, abitmore exaggerated to match the scuzzy, sloe-eyed intensity of the songs, but the Malchicks had stage presence to spare and songs to match. Very cool. An hour later, Jan Hellriegal and her band of merry musicians. The ex-Cassandras Ears singer / songwriter had afouch of the Chrissie Hynde's

tonight, leaning forward into the mike, singing and playing-guitar with ladylike intensity. She's talented, she’s beautiful, she’s Shane Carter’s girlfriend and she’s written a pile of songs that steam along in a flurry of guitar, drums, rhythm and

emotion but it was hardto distinguish one from the other, no one strong song stood outand made you think ah, so those are the emotional heights she can reach. Still, with her track record Jan Hellreiegal can count on an audience that waits with baited breath for her next move.

Lastup, Let’s Planet and the major disappointment of the night. Afterall, they have the esteemed Caroline. Easther on drums (ex-Chills) and a cool name and they’re from the capitolfora change. Butthe onlythinglcan = -

rememberabout them isthatl can't remember much about them. To be fair, | could nottreatthem to the full powers of my concentration at this stage ofthe evening but the general concensus was thatthey were rather dull. Another group peddling vague, inoffensive guitar pop completely lacking in Factor X.(i.e. Divine Inspiration). Where are the inspired lunatics, the beautiful maniacs, the self-deluding geniuses who enshrine our wildestday dreams in their own flesh on stage? Let's Planet looked and sounded more like they should be lecturing in Stage Two Sociology. DONNA YUZWALK

TRASCH Roma, August 30. The fact that Trasch risked looking ridiculous at every opportunity yet were still almost annoyingly impressive is testament to the power of two things: sheerunhinged audacity and mock-orchestrated synth chords that

descend like angels. The former quality was present from the moment the band appeared on stage, two members wearing dog collars (the clerical sort) the otherina thoroughly enviable waistcoat and tails. lt became more evident as their thin

white drummer, in glasses and said dog collar, carried off one of the most

aggressive raps this side of NRAand stillmore so in songs like ‘lnheritance’ and ‘Megalomania’ which unashamedly resembled ‘Jam Science’ era Shriekback:

* Mere daring gave way to fanatical self-beliefwhen they wilfully cleared the dancefloor halfway through the set with five minutes of ambient jazz, including samples of supposedly orgasmic noises. But the crowning

display of glorious arrogance was the final song, an inferno of sampled guitars and thunderous rhythms reminiscent of the work of misunderstood genius Mark Stewart, on which they invited a member of the audience to play bass. This sense of spectacle would probably have been enoughto seduce most onlookers but some of us were churlish enough to demand good music as well. Trasch’s response to our greed wasinconsistent (a horrible jazz-funk workout near the end of the set must have brought up a few glasses of three dollar Angus Brut) but ultimately: satisfying. The success of the attempts at hard dance music varied butthe -

aforementioned angelic synth chords in ‘The Cage’ and ‘Absence of War’ were, quite simply, as good as any music gets. Few bands, especially in the z club/electro field, know how to make slow:songs so physically powerful. The only theoretical flaw in the Trasch aesthetic tonight was the friendly conversation with the audience between songs. It reminded us that the band were human when we were lookingforgods. : MATTHEW HYLAND ANTHRAX Auckland Town Hall, Aug 23. Support band Rumblefish took the stage early in the evening and put on an exuberant show. Vocalist Dave Goodison leaped like a demented David Lee Roth, utilising every inch of the stage. However, their funky three song set was cut short by technical problems, and foolish swearing directed at the impatient crowd only made the situation more tense. ‘Rumblefish had to retire early, which was a shame. Disappointment number one. Despite this lukewarm start, any doubts vanished when Anthrax hitthe stage just after 9pm. The ticking clock fromtheir new LP started things off and the crowd was bombarded with the epic Time'. They pummelled their way through ‘Keep It In The Family’ and ‘ln My World'. They relived songs from the Among the Living and Stage of : Euphoria albums. My favourite was the awesome rendition of ‘Antisocial’ which sounded unbelievable with everyone singing that defiant chorus. Eventhe mellow wash of ‘lntro To Reality’

maintained the crowd's attention and was augmented by the superb light

show. “Professional” was the key word. Sadly, the evening did not continue in this excellent light, thanks to the actions of afew individuals. Throwing firecrackers and childish spitting that landed on members of Anthrax meant an aborted encore and a premature ending fo the whole event. What ensued was an ugly and barbaric fight between'the culpritsandfans/road crew/ bouncers/ police. It was a sorry endte such an excellent show. Let'shope New Zealand hasn't killed its chances of seeing any more overseas metal acts. LUKE CASEY THEBHUNDU BOYS ' MACKA B & MAD PROFESSOR UPPERHUTT POSSE Selina’s, Sydney, Sept 1. - Selina’s is something like the upstairs bar at the Gluepot, only about twice the size, situated in a picturesque hotelat - Sydney’s Coogee Beach. It was here that Upper Hutt Posse came to mash down foreigners on their own turf. The shouts of “Kia Kaha" which greeted them suggested there was at least some hometown support out there, and the Posse didn't waste the opportunity. The punters were still somewhat stunned by a solo scratch mixing set from 1990 DMC Mixing Champion Rhys B whose slam-dunks and pirouettes, delivered while keeping the records sp-sp-spinning left mouths gaping. -The Posse opened with two new songs, Time To Educate’ and ‘Move It'. Tere Rapley’s singing adding another dimension to the hard rapping of Dean, Matt and Steve. They continue to flirt with reggae. ‘No Worries In The Party Tonight’ being rearranged to coincide with the Aussie tour. By the time they hit That's The Beat“and ‘Do It - Like This’ they were on aroll with the

crowd. ‘Against The Flow’ and another new one, ‘Clean Up’, iced the cake and Steve'simpromptu haka finished the

encore which was, of course, ‘ETu'. - They want to go to America next. This Posse goes outgr_nafionql. :

Macka B and the Mad Professor did this tour basically to gauge supportfora bigger visit perhaps early nextyear

when they'll bring a full band with them and four New Zealand as well. For this trip itwas the DJ and his Selector, the Prof adding some special effects to

tapes and dub plates as the big man

from Wolverhampton won the audience’s hearts. Macka is one of the most articulate and witty people you'll hear behind a microphone today. He lambasts politicians, businesspeople, big money makers, opressors of all shades while the Mad Professor’s rhythms make your sternum vibrate. True brain and body music and it must be said that Macka is a lovely mover too, like so many big people. A huge man with a huge heart and a lot to say. Soon come here we hope. The Bhundu Boys, Zimbabwe's pride, brought African jive downunder and capped the night perfectly. You may notunderstand all of whatthey sing but the feet understand their music, which is fluent dancefloor ectasy. The layered guitars, percussion and vocals mesh into awhole thatis uniquely African and only afraction ofits magicis conveyed on record. African music needs an audience to respond, and to respond to. Selina’s took a fair shaking as the Bhundu Boys rocked and raved for 90 minutes which leftthe bulk of the crowd sweating and panting. This was a short set by the band's standards so maybe the African’s know something wedon't! DUNCAN CAMPBELL MADHOUSE DANCE PARTY Wellington Town Hall, Sept 1. The atmosphere seemed a bit on the thin side on arrival, the enormous dance area occupied by only afew enthusiastic wigglers, but upon inspection the total transformation of the Wellington Town Hall was impressive.. Midnight Espresso had materialised inthe lobby, complete with a large ‘espresso machine and an exciting array of food. A bar was serving gallons of alcoholic beverages adjacent to the Mayoral offices—a sightto behold. Loud music ricocheted around the ornate ceiling and slowly but surely the crowd began to grow, pulsating, sweating and generally showing off (the fashion show is nextweekend, kiddies). ; Anyway, for a mere $lO we got not only along night ofthrobbing house music (albeit badly mixed) but three live performances and they were abargain attwice the price. Rusomoko didn't really get a fair mix but | guess that had something to do

with the strange acoustics in the Town Hall. They didn't play fortoo long either but nonetheless gave us some truly wonderful reggae. Auckland rappers MC OJ and the Rhythm Slave performed in true Auckland style and hitthe crowd with a soulful funky number called ‘Positivity': | was relieved to see (yet again) that NZ isn't just a guitar based ploddy black poloneck type country — we're as good as the next slice of international culture. Astral trends permitting, people may actually pop out and buy the product.- : The final act, Noise In Effect, only reiterate the above. Wowee. Picasso and Cosmo (the two frontspeople) rapped wonderously to the samples skillfully programmed by TV megaicon Crispy Fresh. The talents of someone called * Martha were employed to arapturous audience and it was at this stage | was asking myself how radio programmers candispute the quality of New Zealand music. | crawled home in the wee hours of the morning, ears ringing, feet aching, grateful to the Madhouse dance party and the funking people that organised it. The two big questions being, when's the next one and can you buy those dinky little laser light shows for entertaining at home Telethon? Was that this weekend? Darn. : : KAY MCMAHON ' ARCHHILLTUNERUSTLERS - Armadillo Restaurant, Aug 28. Sometimes the unexpected in life is the most fun. Forinstance, to wander into a restaurant at 10pm on a Monday andfind a great band is not really A ‘standard practice in Auckland but it does happen. Propped against the Armadillo’s very fine bar with a mostun-rock n'roll tomato juice, | was well and truly pleased to discoverthe Arch Hill Tune Rustlers were notjustthe dodgy cowpunk countryrock bores | had feared (there’s nothing worse than urban adults dressing like the Lone Ranger, especially in the middle of the Pacific). They certainly use country musicas a starting point butthey fool around with it, moving from a great and traditional version of ‘Cry Cry Cry’to a Latin tinged lounge band number without losing the thread of what they're doing. | suppose you could describe them as being buskers, butthat’sin the good sense of the word, in the style of the Gypsy Kings orMano Negro with a heavy dose of Hank Williams. i

I've always regretted being too young to experience the golden age of the Dine n’ Dance (to hell with the Pistols atthe 101 Club, I wish I'd been at El Matador) but on this Monday night the Armadillo came close to

recapturing that great era of Symonds Street's history. If only they had done “Ten Guitars’ | would have been

completely satisfied. Definitely worth checking out, and if it becomes regular, Amateur Night atthe Lollipop Lounge will no longer be the place to be.

KIRK GEE