live!

Rip It Up, Issue 166, 1 May 1991, Page 29

live!

MARIANNE FAITHFULL Auckland Town Hall, May 7 “Instead of dancing I'll sing you a nice, sad, depressing song.” With that comment — one of her few of the entire concert — Marianne Faithfull touched on several contradictions about the show. She had been

replying to the latest of several

demands of “We wanna dance!”. The fact that none of her last four albums was even slightly dance orientated was evidently lost on some of the audience. Others seemed to get most excited by the occassional profane lyric, delivering the loudest whoops and whistles at ‘'Why'd Ya Do It and one adjective in "Working Class Hero.’

To most of us however, Faithfull's intentions were pretty obvious. Only two backing musicians, acoustic guitar predominant, no drums and minimal stage movement (her rhythm player remained seated throughout) meant that this was essentially intimate music writ large for a mass audience. The intended ambience was more that of an East European cafe than a rock concert. Even the trio’s clothing — beret, turtle necks, cardigans and scarves — was appropriate.

Faithfull's descriptions of her songs as ‘sad’ and ‘depressing’ was apt for virtually everything she performed. Since returning to recording in 1979 she has carefully built her repertoire around the public perception of her life as deeply scarred. Her material is almost invariably sombre and

contained within a narrow emotional range: wistful regret to harsh anger to outright despair. At times this lapses into bathos (I've always found ‘Why'd Ya Do It rather silly) or self-pity (‘Lucy Jordan’) but otherwise her impact can be eerie. To witness her performing the likes of ‘Guilt’ and ‘Sister Morphine live ranks as the most chilling experience |'ve ever had in a concert hall. -

Yet despite all this the show was ultimately an affirmation. It wasn't just the rapturous applause accorded

Faithfull before she’'d even sung a note or even the pounding for another encore at the end. It lay in the strength of her supposedly shattered voice, her simple charm and the vibrancy of her accompanists. It was encapsulated in her first encore, ‘As Tears Go By’ Intrinsically a song of regret, it became instead a personal statement of

hard-won triumph. Perhaps Marianne Faithfull deserves those comparisons to Lotte Lenya and Marlene Dietrich after all. : g

The concert was engagingly opened by Graham Brazier, Hammond

Gamble and Harry Lyon who took us on a loose-limbed acoustic ramble through some of their back pages. As custodians of some of our best local pop heritage, they were as welcome as ever. PETER THOMSON :

INTO THE VOID : STEPFORD FIVE, QUAKERS Carlton, Christchurch, April 22. Don't worry, the Quakers aren't - Christians, thank Christ. As we all know, Christianity and rock go together like * Rod and Rachel (using something

foreign o get you to a place you don't belong). What the Quakers are is a three piece, led by wild Bill Fosby on guitar and vocals, with Craig on bass and Haydn Jones on drums. Check out the short bearded man with the starey eyes while he dream weaves guitar chords, a spiritual laxative for the ears. The Quakers play New Age biker music with a heroin groove (slow, meandering, lofs of space, guitar music to get lost to), but bass and drums make sure they stay heavy below the belt. They finish their set with ‘Weird At School’, the jewel in their crown of thorns, a number which can terrify, but not tonight, perhaps because it's hard to get weird under a day-glo disco sign in a near empty pub on a Monday night. Tonight they didn’t quite show us the way, the truth and the life but | am reliably informed this they can do. You've heard of the Cycle Sluts From Hell and the Luna Chicks from NewYork2 Well, add the Stepford Five from Christchurch to that glittering list of bad-ass scum rocking great all-girl

groups. The Stepfords spilled across stage looking like Sisters of Sperm Bank Five (only better looking, of

course), three of ‘em on guitar, with vocals shared by Celia Pavlova (the one in the Motorhead T-shirt and black leather boots) and bassist Reta La

Quesne (the ex-Axel Grinders singer in a Suzie Quatro wig). Wow, these girls really know how to play mean and sing dirty! The public’s been hanging out for an all-female group like this, girls in love with their axes, who know how to glue gutter guitar riffs onto

grunge rhythms. Mean looks, loose lyrics, lean guitar solos — the Stepford Five have got it all. Check them out in Auckland at the end of this month.

And then, Into The Void, the all-boy group that gives avant-garde noise a good name. Anotherwards, they

rocked even while Paul Sutherland was making loopey ricochet noises with his stack of old turntables and razing the crowd with words wrenched from the gaping maw of his subconscious (ie poetry), frontman

Ronnie Van Hout writhed and snake hipped round stage like a rebirthed lan Curtis crazy in the eye of the storm while drums roared and Jason freaked over his frets (well, whaddya expect from a man who sleeps under a Megadeth poster?). Apparently these guys are all artists in their other lives but you'd never know it from toriight's performance (‘cept they're all dressed in black). Into The Void rushed at you, tight and heavy, raw and streamlined like a train off the rails. ‘ DONNA YUZWALK

MCOJ & RHYTHM SLAVE SUPERGROOVE, SEMI LEMON COLAS Dog Club, April 27. Sunday in Grey Lynn complete with damn fine asparagus roll and cup of herbal tea seems a far cry from the sweaty goings on at the Dog Club last night. Actually, the evening began sedately, well, boringly to be less polite, the first band not coming on until around 11 to thrill the Selwyn College infested audience, most of whom

seemed to have brought their parents with them.

Supergroove are on first. Last time | saw them | hated them but the

optimistic spirit of the audience seemed to spread to the band and

they had everyone grooving alright, but does this groove have soul? Thee was some cool toasting style vocals from the backing vocalist and they had some nifty dance steps — hell, they even had a goatee bearded bassist. But they reminded me of those

chocolate covered muesli bars, all the supposedly right ingredients are there but you'd just as soon eat a bar of soap — soapy groove? More wild abandon might have done it. ; Next my heroes, MCOJ and Rhythm Slave: geek factor 10. These guys have the best lyrics in Auckland and bounce off each other verbally and physically but why oh why did they do ‘The One About Girls' before Supergroove then complete their (four songl) set afterwards? If they did their whole set in one and cleaned the heads on their tape machine they’d definitely have all us geeks rocking on.

Now it can be told! Semi-Lemon Cola are U2! | always had my suspicions and the drummer confirmed it to me last night. The tip off was the one that goes “. . . all around the world” or something. Previously they came across as being like what Deep Sea Chilli Mullets were heading towards but on further exposure they are more like U2 dance funk thrash. Sounds awful, but | never hated U2 that much anyway. As everyone knows by now, this band doesn't have bad nights, they have varying degrees of really good “yeah, let's buy beer and jump up and down and wave our hands in the air” nights. This was one of them. Bastards. I'll probably go and see them instead of those guitar superstar funk pretend bands next time as well. So should you. SHIREE LOVE

CEASE TO EXIST New Zealander, Christchurch, April 19. i Or “Cease To Fucking Exist” as they put it on their first cassette release. Named after a song by you know who, Cease To Exist are probably the

coolest combo in Christchurch. This was only their first public outing, but to understand where CTE are coming from you have first to know a little bit about the social milieu in which they fester.

- Cease To Exist consists of members and ex-members of some of the other coolest combos ever to come out of Christchurch: ex-Axel Grinders Celia Pavlova (guitar, vocals), Duane

Zarakov (drums, between songs banter), Haydn Jones on bass (also drums with the Renderers and

Quakers), Martin “Scuzzbuckets”

Henderson on guitar, plus assorted friends and hangers on getting up and taking a turn where appropriate:

tonight they were joined on a couple of numbers by Mick Elborado from the Terminals on keybfiords» and —

Wellington's answer to Joan Jett — Merlene Chombf,-rs on _rock guitar.

The Cease to Exist ethic is loose and cool, basic riffs, roots dangling deep in early devil-made-me-do-it rock'n’roll and '6os West Coast of America

garage with a faint whiff of country discernible in there somwhere. They can sound raw but also real quiet and

delicate, as when Celia sings ‘The Sun Is Shining’ (“in my life again”): wielding her guitar in a floor length purple

gowln_c_md_ looking the way Elvira

would look if she was going to visit the little house on the prairie.

Cease To Exist like white bread and beer, dogs and zombie videos, strobe lights and other artificial stimulants of all kinds. They play moody guitar

tinged with pathos and sing lyrics that lament the wrong turning their lives

have took. What's more,vthey’re decent enough to warn you about it by telling you why (‘Opium’) and with

whom (‘Kool Rider’) and what the end result has been. Rock'n’roll ruin, alright. DONNA YUZWALK