The Big Day Out

Rip It Up, Issue 199, 1 March 1994, Page 2

The Big Day Out

Morning has broken, etc. A nice day for weather. At the headquarters of Rip It Up 'Corporation' the pace is typically frantic (ha!), we're going to be late. Upon arrival the Bats are kicking off the day nice 'n' easy. Robert Scott is in a jovial mood and that is reflected in the songs, up-beat and sparkling. The Bats continue to take (sometimes gentle) melodic pop to soaring new heights. Old faves such as the pounding 'North By North' compliment nicely new medium pacers like 'Courage.' Already there's folks up the front pogoing to a set of songs that perfectly showcased the Bats easy way with a melody. Kid Eternity are playing on Stage 4 under the main grandstand. Whereas their last Auckland show was an unsuited exercise in restraint today they're everything a decent punk band should be. Firstly, they are fucking loud! And second, their chiming guitar pop contains that all important air of spontaneity. Older tunes such as 'Monkey' and T Like' (?) sound as fresh and unpredictable as the newer more dynamic numbers, several of which, literally, fell apart. The 3Ds comparison still stands, and though Kid Eternity don't match the guitar antics of the two Daves, they have a lot more going on in the rhythm department that adds a

complex element to proceedings. Closing with a song that had each member performing a short on-the-spot solo was an ideal ending. Having drawn the shortest straw I remain here to see hard rockers Snowman. Lots of solos, posturing and pouting. There's one on every street corner, three songs was enough. 1 wander the short distance to the main stage and listen to the remainder of Shihad's set. Obviously, this is the real thing.

The most comfortable setting from which to watch a band today is the lush grassy area in front of Stage 3. Australia's You Am I swagger on carrying a ton of bravado. And that's brash behaviour for a band living in the 90s who choose to sound like a punkish Black Crowes playing the hits of the Who. For three songs it's interesting in a bizarre kind of way but Soundgarden are due on stage later and one retro band a day is enough. Following on is David Kilgour. For a long time now he's had his mind out of the Clean but as yet he hasn't lost the ability to write stunning three minute pop epics. Whether they be gentle and melodic, or speedy and noisy, there are catchy hooks a-plenty. Most of this

afternoon's set are tunes from the forthcoming album, but the real knock-out was the beautifully wistful 'Uplift? Still at stage 3,today was Def FX's first performance in New Zealand, if there is any hint of justice in the air it will be their one and only. They are four people with far too much time on their hands. Noisy guitar bands with sequencers and samplers straddlean extremely fine line between producing frantic mesmerising orchestrations (ie.Skeptics, H. Chickens), or plummeting down a wide-mouthed hole simply marked "Shite." It is down this well travelled chute you will find Def FX. He whacks a power chord, she screeches, "Box!", he strikes the keyboard, she shrills,. "Cement!" . It's pointless and it’s terminal, hopefully both aren't catching. And to be quite frank, if the vocalist didn't happen to be a slim blonde with big breasts wouldn't the hordes of cheering boys upfront have been moshing elsewhere? 1 know I'm guilty. Making amends for the weekend at the Mountain I choose a spot in the heart of the pit to see Head Like A Hole. It's said that gimmicks are an attempt to disguise a lack of talent. Well that's not strictly true but HLAH have done the nakedness angle to death. It's not that amusing and becomes plain ridiculous when several people in the vicinity spend the entire set trying to photograph Nigel's dick. As always the music is fine enough to speak for itself. Heavy, metal, dynamic and faster than a speeding bullet. It's all too much for one fan who is carried out on a stretcher.

I missed the first half of King Loser's performance whilst in the queue for eats. That is perhaps the only complaint of the day, the number of food outlets was ridiculously inadequate. Anyway, King Loser, without question, secure first prize for best-dressed band of the day. A suited-up Chris Heazlewood is as sharp as new razor blades, Pavlova and Pikelet have poured themselves into fetching red jumpsuits. And the music? Hell it's Vegas soul and a bonafide sin, unsubtle hints and screaming chords. The guitar tweaks and squeals while the strained vocal tells tales of requited lust and pictures of matchstick men. Tender but tortured.

Moonwalking through a sea of plastic cups and paper cartons isn't easy but I make it over to Stage 3 in time to see some exceptionally fine hip-hop.

Dam Native are the first in the area, unfortunately this means the sound glitches are picked up but not quite ironed out during their set. As a result Danny D's powerful rapping is not heard in full effect. This is a terrible shame cause at the moment Dam Native are totally delivering live, right from their slinky introduction number to the booming finale, 'Tino Rangatiratanga.' The addition of Teremoana and another MC (whose name I didn't catch) adds an extra dimension to an already ruling posse. Deep Groovers Urban Disturbance have the assembled crowd under their thumbs. First impressions say Zane and Ollie have downed a tanker load of smart drink,

or possibly something else. These boys are hyped, slammin', running all over the stage but still managing to control their lyrics. Holding it all together at the back, Rob Fade expertly works the wheel of steel (only one turntable, where's that at?). During'No Flint...'every fist is raised skywards and every voice yells "spark it up." Real nice.

Three The (muthafuckin') Hard Way. After waiting all day to see this band I'm disappointed they're only given the opportunity to play two tunes. But they don't waste that space, with sharp beats, polished samples and wicked rapping this crew hit pay dirt. Bobbyion of the Hallelujah Picassos joins up for a wild and raucous version of 'Hip Hop Holiday' and it's all over way too soon. Nuff respect.

Months now since I've seen Pacifican Descendants. They are a crew who are either lame or sublime. Tonight they explode into the latter. MrMystroand Brother Skeem boogie down and cover each inch of the stage. On the side the PD Dancers,are steppin' it a million bpm to beats that are wonderfully bass heavy. Why they choose to close with a ballad done US swing-beat style is beyond me, but overall tonight they definitely came correct. From Stage 2 the intro to 'Hey Seuss' from the 3Ds phases with the outro from the Descendants. Back in the main arena it's just before midnight and the masses are slowly wandering through the door marked 'Exit.' The 3Ds go to 'Outer Space' and then it's all over until (hopefully) next year. From ground level the Auckland stop-over functioned like a wellgreased machine. Much credit goes to this town's promoters for providing not only a big, but also a hugely enjoyable day out. JOHN RUSSELL

My arrival coincided with Jan Hellriegel's set — the first of the day on Stage 1. Jan bemoaned the shortage of black jersey clad westies in the crowd but the polite response to her set had more to do with the unfamiliarity of the songs. She played only a pair of tracks from her debut album It's My Sin, but given time, there's no doubt some of the new songs showcased at the Big Day Out will draw the kind of response saved for set closer 'The Way 1 Feel'.

Two hours later the Muttonbirds adopted a similar aproach playing songs from their forthcoming second album of which 'Ngaire' and new single 'The Heater' were easily the best. There will always be a place for intelligent and well played pop and the Muttonbirds can produce that in spades. On the down side, new tune 'Queen's English' reeked of the Beatles' 'Come Together' and the ballad 'Anchor Me' didn't really capture the mood of the day (whereas 'Nature', if they’d played it, would have brought the house down).

On the other hand, Chicago's Urge Overkill, the first of the big name overseas bands, have obviously been around long enough to know what to do in rock festival situations. Give the punters what they want - in this case, generous lashings of tracks from their most

recent album Saturation. Their big, obvious riffs sounded mostly good, they looked great and they finished with two of the best songs from Saturation, 'Erica Kane' and 'Sister Havana'.

In between all the eating, drinking and listening my attention was momentarily diverted by a low-fly-ing plane trailing a "Rip It Up — Still On A High" banner. As my gaze returned earthwards anil foot high madman clad only in an eiderdown lurched into my field of vision. Closer inspection showed that it was in fact two shorter madmen, one astride the other's shoulders. The look in their eyes told me they were obviously a few dacron wads short of a full quilt. What I needed was some existential healing so I wandered up to Stage 3 to catch JPSE.

The mix was loud and dynamic, in contrast to some of the muddled efforts which had emanated from Stage 3 earlier in the day ,and helped highlight the increasingly abrasive nature of the band. Over the last few months Matthew Heine's guitar seems to have been better integrated into the JPSE sound. It was the older songs which really shone — 'Elemental', (monumental more like), 'Flex' and 'Gravel' reaching wholly unexpected heights. Tracks from Bleeding Star seemed to lose a little of their album lustre in a live setting but overall it was a fine set.

Closing a long day were the 3Ds. Nothing if not the very antithesis of stadium rockers, the 3Ds succeeded in sounding exactly like the 3Ds playing through a very large PA in a stadium. So does that mean the 3Ds have embraced Stadium Rock? I think not. They showed that you don't need exaggerated stage moves, hollow "audience participation" and overblown finales when your songs are as good as 'Hey Seuss', 'OuterSpace' and 'Sing Song'. So it didn't matter that David Mitchell turned his back on the audience during intensive guitar riffery, or tuned his guitar through a 50 squillion watt PA after every song. What matters is that they were fun, scary, sublime and ridiculous — sometimes all in the space of the same song. And there aren't too many bands who can manage that. MARTIN BELL

Following Head Like A Hole who had commanded the stage like megastars, the Breeders strolled up like regular folks just playing their songs (some of which sound like they worked out backing vocals and liked them so much they didn't bother with any lyrics — but hey, that's c 001...). They played some of the beefier pop songs from Pod like 'Hellbound' and the Beatles' 'Happiness Is A Warm Gun’ and more of the looser ones from Last Splash, and of course the nifty 'Cannonball'. It's fun to see a band do what real people do: they messed around, they waited for Kim Deal to light a cigarette, they swapped instruments (hey that's the bass player playing cool drums on 'Roi'!) and all of it was covered by a rambling, running commentary between songs by Kim . . . good clean fun all round. As Stage 2 saw the arrival of the Cruel Sea, I headed towards it and every other Big Dayer headed away from it... or so it seemed. Playing to what must have been the smallest main stage crowd of the day the Cruel Sea played what must have been the grooviest (ie containing the most groove) main stage set — two guitars slippin' and a slidin' over coiling patterns of muscular bass with singer Tex Perkins (grabbing the mic, tossing its foamy cover away in disgust) growling, howling and grunting over the top. Tex has an unmistakable charisma and I swear a number of women in the audience had their eyes fixed firmly on him as they danced... er, suggestively.

The Cruel Sea played a stirring 30 or so minutes but, having been the toast of Australia for the last year or so, I'm sure they were offended at the mass dis-interest from Auckland's Big Day crowd and they appeared to cut their set short and leave. Come back and play a dark seedy bar sometime so we can really appreciate you . . . "For those about to rock — we salute you" said Smashing Pumpkins' Billy Corgan as he left the stage, and rock Straitjacket Fits did (and salute them Billy Corgan should). Bigger, noisier, majestic-

er, awesomer than perhaps ever before, Straitjacket Fits played like there was no tomorrow — the beautifully nasty 'Done' and 'White Out' and the "nightime music for lovers” (Carter) of 'lf I Were You' already playing like classics, and majestic oldies like 'Cast Stone' and an impossibly huge 'Dialling A Prayer’ and — saints be praised — 'She Speeds' had more of an edge, a loosness and a tightness that the band never had when those songs first appeared. Shayne Carter has always had that voice, but don't forget: this man can play guitar. Running across the stage towards his amp, wringing feedback from his guitar then, dashing back to centre stage, wrenching notes and noises from it, the songs blissfully buried and then snatched back from the brink of disarray by the whole band at once. Feedback, guitar licks, songs and singing that made much of the day's music sound like amateurish plodding . . . and then it was over .. .

"That's it. Good bye," said Carter. And that was it. Iwenthome. Nothing was going to top that. One to tell your grandchildren about folks. JONATHAN KING Looking down into Mt Smart stadium I thought of 26 men adorned with beer slogans in pursuit of an oval ball. If this is where they're hosting the Warriors in '95, I'm not going. Maybe they can tear up the track. No such problems with the Big Day Out. Fight your way through the sea of t-shirts and crochet and vou're there.

Stage 3 was located in a back paddock behind the Supertop. First there was Emma Paki. From the Tangata school of waiata, where voice and story telling are the founding principles, this is what she delivered. Her vaguely funky threepiece backing band were strictly background. Emma Paki betrays the naivete in her voice with heavy messages in her music, especially the melancholic 'Don't Do It'. However, 'The Creation' was a song of wonder and 'System Virtue' a charmer.

, The Able Tasmans up next, time to break and find a drink. I tried a smart one with no noticeable effects so hereafter stuck to dull ones - shandies. The Able Tasmans never fail to charm. They've an overabundance of melodies roving hither and thither. You begin to nod your head to one on the piano and here comes another one on the guitar, or singer Peter Keen, when he takes a break from rolling cigarettes starts singing and it's in perfect counterpoint. Lovely stuff, perfect in the sunshine on a Saturday afternoon, the addition of a Rickenbacker lifting the proceedings to the sublime.

Element want to be a serious rock band. Drummer, guitarist and bass player are workmanlike. Out front famous Mikey Havoc in glam green lurex carrying out his usual vocal histrionics. However the whole thing was slow and strained. Some inter-band tension? Just as likely though, a lack of songs. But the one with the didgeridoo was not a bad attempt.

What can I say about the Hard Ons? A no bullshit band. Only three of them. They hit the main stage and played like beasts from go to whoa. They had a heap of fun, were utterly relentless and had the best hair. Where were the chicks?

The Chickens, Headless, immediately followed. I'm still shaking my head. They were a cacophony of radio fodder. The new songs were lost in the melee. The sound was shocking. Evidently on-stage sound problems contributed to their sloppiness. To end the set, Chris Matthews in a black fit of pique smashed his guitar. He don't do that unless he's seriously fucked off. To those in the audience who shouted 'poser', he's not. They're not. But hell, they've got to do better than this.

It was teatime. Now we were promised interesting food. Don't believe the hype. Fairground fare, chips and hot dogs, more berloody chips and hot dogs. Queues twenty deep. The vegetarian food was worse. Chunky silver beet ends tossed with instant noodles and a dash of ginger and soy for good measure. They had the audacity to advertise this dish's main ingredient as tofu. There wasn't any. Maddening. Though not as maddening as two of the questions in Family Planning's little quiz

Firstly, the question of fertility during menstruation. Yes you can conceive during your period but the probability is minute and there are simple checks, mucus and temperature, that you can take during your cycle. Secondly the morning after pill is a marvellous discovery but when we are only now coming to terms with long term pill use how can they tout the morning after pill as serious contraception? I went to the Verlaines next. They were refreshing respite from a long day darkening into a long night. They've retained the Dunedin sound but added intensity. More edges, passion and songs of desperation. Real kiwis wear thongs, sorry, jandals. The Tall Dwarfs wore matching jandals and boxers. Funny guys aren't they? You think so? Well you've never heard a Tall Dwarfs record. Warped, yeah, lunatic even, with their mix of whatever Chris has found in the inorganic refuse collection and Alec Bathgate strumming away. But their songs (and they always manage to jam in lots from their prolific output) though simple, have a pithy brilliance. And Knox, the bloke can sing. High notes, low notes, long long notes, noise.. .. just dandy. Dandy is a word that can easily be applied to MC OJ and Rhythm Slave. You can be forgiven for thinking you're watching a cartoon. Tonight they weren't going to give you room for that shit. No way. Add three conga players and DJ DLT. Let it flow, let yourself go, slow and low, that is the tempo. Hypnotic and not a guitar in sight. That's just about my lot but there are things I have to say. I've never commented before on what people wore, though now we've lost our two best fashion writers someone has to. Best dressed band of the day easily goes to King Loser. They turned in a killer set too. Jingo surf music for the urbane. JPSE also surprised. A new guitarist (beautiful arrogant bastard Matthew Heine) and intense touring has done them the world of good. And the Straitjacket Fits outshined the bands either side of them. A great day. A big day. Now a cuppa tea and a lie down. BARBIE

I've come to the conclusion that the level of enjoyment of the particular band you were watching was decided on geography. If you're up the front and comfortable then the chances are that the band will actually be enjoyed much better, volume wise, visually and atmospherically.

Tumbleweed were the first band on the agenda for me and for the only time throughout the day I was able to 1) actually see the band, 2) enjoy the atmosphere, 3) not have an 'out of it' fuckhead fall on me, breathe on me, sing horribly in my ear or rub their sweaty body against me. I realise this sort of goings on is usual but it pissed me off anyway but I soon got over it. I'm not sure why there was a lack of people around the stage while Tumbleweed were playing, although I believe they're not actually that big over here, unlike Australia where it would have been impossible to get anywhere near the stage. But I won't be grumbling, cos at least I could see them for once.

Anyway Tumbleweed played a groovy (an appropriate word when describing them) set and I must say that apart from making great music they are also a good band to watch, which is important for entertainment value. Singer Ritchie has a great voice and is one of the few men I have ever seen who can move around the stage in an attractive fashion (ie he can dance well). As my friend Rachel from the rock group Celine said "they're almost too cool."

Almost as soon as Tumbleweed finished Shihad started. There was certainly no mucking around between bands so I hurriedly made my way across to Stage One and this time I was nowhere near the stage, it was occupied with loads and loads of young 'uns thrashing wildly about (mostly boys). I'm not really into being squished and jumping up and down at the same time as loads of people so I opted to move to the back of the crowd and stood there enjoying the full-on Shihad assault. They sounded huge and none of the effect was marred by moving to the back, which was pleasing. They played all their hits and the kids luwed them to bits. Shihad easily fit into the 'international' band category, they were as good, if not better than any of the bands that played on Stage One. Shihad over, I decided that I might try my luck again at acquiring some food but nay, the queues were annoyingly large, as they would continue to be throughout the day, so I went to Stage 4 in a shitty mood to see Thorazine Shuffle. Thora are an interesting group in many more ways than one, their guitarist is a muscley bald guy of Henry Rollins persuasion, singer/guitarist Josh is tall and slim, the others look kinda ordinary and their flute player Mette appears on stage occasionally in a very short vinyl skirt which the boys must like and adds a bit of spunk to the band musically. A lot of people were around when they played and all seemed to really dig the set. The thing about Thora is that they can actually write songs, not just a bunch of music, if you know what I mean. Josh's lyrics send shivers up my spine for no apparent reason, because songs about love bruises and dressing up in women's clothing aren't particularly sentimental or anything but it’s the way he sings them, kinda campishly but manly all the same, and so sincere! They played all their BFM hits — 'Blame' and 'Succumb' — and lotsa new ones which I don't know the names of but were highly recommendable.

Christchurch's Love's Ugly Children were on next and I was pleasantly surprised, I'd never seen them before, and they were punk rock! Good punk rock, not bad. Their songs were full of energy, but they had tunes to them as well, not just loads of guitar noise for the hell of it. I'm not that familiar with their material, but I liked their whole set. From where I was standing I could only see the drummer, who sang as well, which did not look at all easy at the speed he was drumming, but he pulled it off well. The drumingsinging combo, that is. At this stage the heat was getting to me, and I decided to try the food thing again, but they hadn’t improved none and I resigned my-

self to starving and shaking for the day and wandered over to have a quick look at Dead Flowers, who I've seen maybe too many times. Nothing new here, lotsa dry ice on stage though, and some good new songs. The people at the front of the stage were rather excited over them so they're still doing something right. Back to the main stages I went and waited in the crowd for Smashing Pumpkins. I was relatively within view of the stage but by the time they came on I was pretty near the back, cause I had to keep shifting back from the crowd to see the stage. Being vertically challenged at big gigs is one of life's unfair lessons, especially when a guy who looked like he had a sheep on his head decided he would like to stand in front of me. I was somewhat irritable at this stage, having sheephead in front of me, and sweaty 'surfer' dudes who were 'really out of it' and kept saying so thoughout the set surrounding me. So to be fair I wasn't in a position to soak-up whatever was going on onstage, but I thought they sounded kinda ... ordinary. I mean, they played really well and everything, great renditions of their songs, but there were no surprises. Singer Billy Corgan was a bit friskier than I thought he'd be and guitarist James Iha was 'really quite amusing' (to quote Rachael Hunter) telling us that he was 'now gonna change his guitar to D grunge tuning', and if that wasn't a big enough guffaw they did a silly matey Soundgarden song, just to get at Soundgarden for being the 'grangers' they are. All in jolly good fun of course. Bass player D’Arcy was

fairly still throughout the set, maybe it was the heat. I think that some of the subtlety that is the strong feature of Smashing Pumpkins on record was lost in the outdoors thing, it's more kinda personal music that you like to listen to by yourself at home. There were some moments when they really kicked in like 'Quiet' and some of the noisier ones, and it was disappointing they didn't do some more stuff off Gish, butwhatthehey, musn't grumble. They'd be great in a small venue.

As Soundgarden were the night before at the Powerstation. Fantastic is not a good enough word for them that night, but things didn't go quite so well here, major technical difficulties in fact, which was a real bummer. Right from the first song 'Room a Thousand Years Wide' things were not quite right, singer/ guitarist Chris Cornell's mike was behaving in an undesirable way, and by their third song 'Rusty Cage' there was no vocals at all. Chris invited the audience to 'sing the words your-

selves, or make 'em up if you don't know them, I forget them half the time anyway'. I think the band realised things weren't gonna get much better, and did a set for themselves kinda thing, mucking around and having fun with their songs, which was good, I enjoyed it, but people who weren't huge fans probably didn't. Pretty disappointing for most I suppose, and they didn't play 'Outshined' either (for all the people who heard it on Hauraki — Duh).

Pic: Becky Nunes

SHIRLEY CHARLES