Live

Rip It Up, Issue 202, 1 June 1994, Page 39

Live

A WEEKEND IN AUCKLAND Fri 6/Sat 7/Sun 8 May A three-day spread such as this doesn’t occur very often. But with so many bars and venues up and running these days, the selection this weekend is, as the man might say, “stinky.” It’s a treat to be spoiled for choices and definitely a time to leave the nine to five up on the shelf. On Friday night the Soul Cafe in the Mid City Centre has all the action. And as cliched as it may sound, if you ain’t there, then you ain’t nowhere. The Soul Cafe is a weird place to see bands, it’s the kind of glass and chrome affair that doesn’t usually lend itself to the eccentricities of rock ‘n’ roll. That said, the gamble has paid off. A little before midnight, the place is over half-full with eager punters ready to witness what turns out to be another awesome Proud/Second Nature showcase. First up are a duo called Sisters Underground, Hasana hails from California and Brenda from Otara. They’ve been performing together for over five years and it’s immediately obvious. The speed and ease with which they slip into a groove is hard to believe. Hasana just cruises over the top of some funky funky rhythms, revealing herself to be in possession of the ultimate rap voice. One that’s hard and soothing at the same time. Brenda’s vocals are more low-key but the harmonies are perfect, especially on the Jodeci coverthat I can’t recall the title of. As expected, everyone is waiting to hear ‘ln The Neighbourhood’, the opening track from the Proud album. All expectations are fulfilled, right from the delicate acoustic intro to the sing-a-long chorus to the soulful ending. No description less than ‘superb’ would suffice. The Otara Millionaires Club know full well there’s no sin in folks gettin’ down. They have the homeboys and flygirls up doing the ‘Running Man’ within seconds of the bass going boom! Special guests tonight are the heaven sent duo of Radio Backstab and DJ Payback, and their inclusion in proceedings provides two huge highlights. The Millionaires pumping theme tune ‘We R the CMC rocks da house as does Backstab & Payback’s brilliant ‘Just Another Coconut.’ Backstab is one of the best frontmen I’ve ever seen. He’s blessed with the ideal qualities of confidence, charisma, quick-wittedness, implied arrogance and humour — not to mention wicked rhyme skills. And although this may not be the forum to express such wishes, the trio comprising of Backstab, Payback and Sonny (from Pacifican Descendants) that performed in the Aotea centre the week following this show should team up more often.

The Semi MCs arrive on stage just after twothirty. Remarkably the crowd has increased in size and even the early birds haven’t lost any of their energy. The Semis no longer dance to the tunes that won them the RUN DMC support back in 89. On the mellow tip now, they’re impressing with a bag of tricks marked smooth, soulful and swingbeat.

Unfortunately I don’t know the titles to any songs so it’s impossible to go into any detail, ‘cept to say the quality and depth of the vocals would make Boyz II Men brick. Without question the assembled bands delivered to the assembled audience one of the best local hip-hop shows they’ll ever have the pleasure of seeing. The interesting thing is that the folks involved with Proud have gone about their business with a minimum of fuss, but are already creating a phenomenon. Catch it while you can. Saturday night boasted two gigs worth catching. Flitting between both meant missing the complete sets of several bands, so before we start apologies to those who suffered from the time factor. The first stop was Pod in the Imperial Arcade. On the bill were three bands operating in the melodic guitar territory but each using different colours from the spectrum.

Drill have been a favourite since I first saw them with the Cake Kitchen in February 1990. That doesn’t change the fact that they're one of the more frustrating bands of their genre, I mean, they play less often than Little Richard! Drill need to take stock, realise just how brilliant they are, and deny us no longer. Tonight’s set consists of mostly old tunes sprinkled with the two songs they have managed to write in as many years. Of the tried and tested, ‘Happy Home’ begins with a stretched discordant riff then swings into a glorious BSpace-like verse that still manages to surprise. Co-guitarist Steve Sinkov makes the intro to ‘Fishy’ sound like

an ambient mix of the Close To Home theme, accompanied all the while by the demented thinly disguised social commentary of guitarist/vocalist John Pitcairn. Six songs through I reluctantly leave them, and hike up the road to the Piranha Club in Elliott Street.

On the way I’m invited to join a travelling stag party. A real one too, where the groom prides himself on wandering the city attached to a ball and chain, then wakes up naked, locked in the boot of a car parked on the wrong side of the harbour bridge. Thankfully the allure of Thorazine Shuffle wins out. This band impress more every time I see them. Having ex-Deep Sea . . . sorry, Second Child drummer Jules Barnett hitting the pots has made a world of difference but most credit must go in the direction of frontman Josh Hetherington. The standard of his songwriting has increased in leaps and bounds, and tonight this is proven several times. Particularly when they play ‘Queer.’ The verse bit, “...then Mike said Andrew...”, is beautiful, but when the song goes into half-time and they go ballistic with staccato bursts of guitar and drums the thrill is even more cool. When leaving I add them to a mental list of bands that come under the ‘must see whenever they play’ heading. Arriving back at Pod I catch the last song of fourpiece Sea Monkey, a band that features members, or ex-members of Figure 60, Chainsaw Masochist and Lester Bangs. The tune heard is, not unexpectedly, a combination of all three — semi noisy, a hint of nonsense and a bit of an epic. Failsafe three-piece Keith are on next. These lads are on the 4/4 pop punk tip, not unlike their label mates the Lils. The difference being that Keith lay their feet a little more lightly on the distortion pedal. This works fine on their recent ‘Extra Care’ release but live it sounds too tame and rigid. They definitely could loosen up some. Back to Piranha for the last time and up on stage Semi Lemon Kola are hard at it. Here’s another band who are bringing me round to their way of thinking, probably ‘cause they have ditched the influences

of a few crap English bands. Right now they’re soaking up a Fugazi style edge but mixing it with their own pop sensibilities. Earlier today the band were granted QE II Arts Council assistance to make a record and they’re obviously thrilled. This news is also exciting to the assembled PYTs who are bouncing (literally) up front. While we’re at it, much respect to the folks involved with the Piranha Club. Turning a front room into a professional gig venue can’t be easy, hopefully it’ll happen more often. The following evening, buzzing from another enthralling episode of Melrose Place (Sydney & Kimberly kill Michael then frame Jane!), I wander down to the Cave in Fanshawe Street. This is another excellent venue, and its moniker fits like a glove. Appearing again after popular demand are Trash, a loud three-piece from Dunedin. Once again I don’t know the names of any songs so individual descriptions are out of the question. But Trash impress in a very big way. Never before have I heard guitars that could clash so violently yet blend into one to create a mesmerising forceful squall. The drummer plays one of those small 60s kits that I like and beats the hell out of it. Trash complete the weekend the way it started, on a high note and they’re a considerate bunch too. It being a Sunday they wind up at a reasonable hour. Now we can all get some sleep. JOHN RUSSELL 147 SWORDFISH, SALMONELLA DUB Star and Garter, May 6 CHAMELEON Quadrophenia, May 7, Christchurch They say it takes all sorts and there was an eclectic mixture of retro-punks, dread-heads, lame fashion victims and a walrus moustached Nirvana T-shirted army squadie checking out 147 Swordfish’s dense throb and Salmonella Dub’s groovy moves. The motley mob moved into mosh mode seconds

after 147 Swordfish’s power barrage got under way, sucked into the vortex of their spiralling grind. What this three-piece seem to be doing is creating new angles and finding new directions in the highly meritorious harsh-repetitive drone area which so many others aspire to but fail to master. Where 147 Swordfish have got it right is by letting the gat, bass and drums sprawl into different angles that occasionally bisect, rather than blandly humming as one unit, which is the trap so many other suckers fall for. The odd excursion into funk-metal might be fun for them but in essence are the weak points in an otherwise convincing set. Salmonella Dub and their tight dance pop were the antithesis of Swordfish despite sharing the same bass player, yet were almost as good within their own style. There’s no pretensions about Salmonella Dub — they seemed to know they play hot get-up-and-shake-yer-booty pop and this works in their favour. It’s not music that demands serious attention or listening, swamped in sax bleats and bright keyboard riffs, but that’s not the Dub’s point and it’s actually just dead fine to groove on down to. The venue might be called Quadrophenia but thankfully Chameleon don’t signal a mod-revival revival. What they do instead is inspire confidence in the multitude of emerging young Christchurch acts. All of their songs are at least goodish melodic pop, while the best are intense, rapid-fire dabs of thrashy, trance noise. If they can build on this, avoid foul ups and have faith in themselves, Chameleon would be doing themselves justice.

GRANT MCDOUGALL

ROBERT NOLL Gluepot, April 29.

Robert Noll’s songs are okay (though he didn’t play many at this show, ‘Hug Yer Baby’ the one I recognised from his album), and his singing is powerful, but it’s the guitar playing which hogs all the attention. Spread over two sets, this show was an

experience akin to hearing a two hour guitar solo. An experience which mightn’t entice some of this magazine’s more precious readers, who like things “light and tasty,” but which strikes me as “just right.” Alternating between a PRS and a Flying V, Noll’s fingers danced up and down the blues scales, shook the dust off the curtains, even vacuumed the floor afterwards.

A band’s enjoying themselves when the outro to a song is three times longer than the song itself. This was true of ‘Goin’ Down,’ one standout in a repertoire which kissed the classic shelf: Muddy Waters’ ‘Hootchie Cootchie Man’ and ‘l’m Ready,’ Albert Collins’ ‘Don’t Lose Your Cool,’ John Lee Hooker’s ‘Boogie Chillen,’ B. B. King’s ‘Rock Me Baby,’ Elmore James via Stevie Ray Vaughan's ‘The Sky Is Crying’ spliced with Jimi Hendrix’s ‘Red House,’ and especially good; Freddie King’s ‘You’ve Got To Love Her With A Feeling’ spliced with Albert King’s ‘I Love Lucy.' Reviewing Blues Mission last month I postulated in vague terms regarding Noll’s potential for ‘‘best extended noodling guitar solo issued from a live stage. ” Such a moment occurred three or four songs into his first set, during the Robert Cray via Albert King ‘l’m Standing In A Phonebooth, Baby,’ — a virtual guitar solo to end all guitar solos, it dropped many a jaw to the floor, even those of hardened souls who’d take "regularly pissed” as a compliment. For his final NZ show on May 24, Noll was being advertised on radio as “legendary” which, aside from proving what I said about “blues legends” two issues ago, is a fair assessment of his ‘Phonebooth’ wailing. ANDREW PALMER

MUSHROOM BALL Section 8, New Plymouth Friday 13, Sat 14 May

I had this idea on the drive to Taranaki for a Judgement Night style compilation of North Island punk bands hooking up with South Island alternative bands . . . imagine Sticky Filth with the 3Ds, Nefarious with Walter Mitty, a reformed Migraine with a reformed Plagal Grind. Could be seriously dope! . . . anyways . . .if you give a shit about NZ music then chances are you’ve been to a Mushroom Ball before and if so you’ll know that there’s a lot more to them than just the music. For me, Mush Ball weekend is a chance to drink and get loose with friends from all over the country. There’s always lotsa before and after gig parties and plenty of magic mushrooms and New Plymouth bud to partake in. Plus two nights of damn fine thrashin’ sounds for only S2O ... now doesn’t that sound a heap better than, say $35 for a hour of Henry Rollins it’s-depressing-here-in-the-closet metal wank.

Friday night kicked off real early so I missed the first band Kitsch, but I saw them three weeks before at the same place and they were okay. A bunch of real young dudes who sound like they listen to shit like Rage Against the Machine and Jane’s Addiction and of course there’s always plenty of other young dudes who will eat that shit up. They’ve got untold energy on stage and could turn into another damn fine New Plymouth band in a year or two. I dunno if 5 Girls worship at the altar of Crasstafari but that’s the impression I get... UK hardcore sounding thrash with lots of tempo changes and plenty of politically barbed humour. That may sound like some tired old shit but they do rock and they are kinda funny. It’s still better than trying to sound like Led Zep. I imagine this is what a lot of Riot Grrrl music sounds like. Serious mosh action underway by now. Intravenous from Rotorua played third. They do death metal. Badly and I’m not into it when it’s done good so that’s all I gotta say about them. Highlight of the first night for me was Nefarious. What d’ya expect from a band with members from Toxic Avengers (a band not a gang, Truth readers), P.M.D. and Sticky Filth. Just classic balls-out badass punk rock. Fuck you and pass the drugs. A sound that's just one massive riddim section with a couple of maniacs yelling over top. I saw at least three people get limbs ripped off in the slam. Good times! Oh yeah . . . the drunken babes who got on stage and did a few dance steps in between falling over lots ruled!

Me and my friends grew up on Flesh-D-Vice and I expected them to be retro and dull and the kind of thing that bores me these days but I was wrong. They got a new singer and he’s got the same kinda rock n’roll scumfuck stage presence that Eugene’s always had. They play ‘Legend of Lugosi’ and ‘Flaming Soul’ which are the only old FDV songs I need to hear and their cover of Discharge’s ‘State Control’ was the high point of the weekend for many people. Damn fine way to end a very choice night. After a pretty unsuccessful mushroom picking afternoon I just had to suck down some brews before the second night, which meant I got there too late to see Blunt. I heard that they started off with the Radio Masey #1 hit ‘Angry’ and proceeded to play a ferocious set of Birthday Party/SPUD style noise-rock. If you like that kinda thing as much as I do then you'll be as keen as I am to check them out real soon. Boris goes off! Froithead are coming from a similar angle as their Palmerston North buddies Blunt. . . main difference being a drum machine and a female vocalist. Claire throws some weird-ass non-human sounding growls at the mic and it was a shame that her

vocals were mixed low. On a good night they are one of the top five rock bands in the country but tonight didn’t sound like one of their better gigs. Their beats were faster and closer to being "dance” beats than when I saw them last year... it will be interesting to see how they sound next time. Andrew Fagan and Swirly World played next so I bailed. Unprofessional journalist behaviour for sure ... I could give a fuck. There was beer outside and I don’t need to see no pop music in the middle of the Mushroom Ball, you know what I’m sayin’? Gotta admit that when I came back in they were rockin’ more than I expected and people were into it, or at least not as offended and abusive as I’d expected, but I took it as a good chance to hang outside, dig? Next up Sticky Filth ... oh shit ... a friend of mine who’s seen the Stickies aobut 50 times said it was the lousiest SF set he's seen. Not surprising considering guitarist Chris had spent the day preparing for the gig by drinking a cask of Velluto Rosso and rolling his car in a ditch. He was still pissed and maybe partly concussed when they played, which meant he was in no state to play. So he didn’t. Much. Just let rip the odd lead break and annoyed bass player Craig Radford. Even with mainly just bass and drums they were still my favourite band of the weekend which just shows why they are the best band in New Zealand and have been for the last five years. Last up were Afterbirth and they did the thrashmetal thing. I pretty much hate that shit but I guess

they did it real well because everyone was raving about them at the party afterwards. Another fine weekend thanx to Ima Hitt records. See you at Mush 95. KID COLDSLAW ROLLINS BAND The Powerstation, 25 May 1994 It’s a mighty spectacle watching Henry Rollins pacing around the square of orange carpet that had been taped to the stage for this evening’s performance while he gives his microphone a Chinese burn. When he spits or blows his nose great torrents of liquid squirt from his head. The sweat peels off his body like waves on a beach and sometimes he’s standing at such a wide stride you’d think his pelvis might just divide itself. And though he could crush my skull like an insect’s I still wish that I had an elder brother just like Henry. His menace is endearing. But enough of him — he’s really only 20 per cent of the Rollins Band picture. So what about Chris? He played slick lead guitar for about an hour or so and blew everyone’s heads clean off. For a guy who looks more and more like a monk every day he’s a howling blade of steel. For the last eight years he’s excelled at putting the bends and edges on the band’s music and pretty much defined their sound. Tonight he chucked in some improvisation at the right moments and was (usually) as solid as a rock. Give the guy a medal. And another medal

for Sim Cain for, well, just for being Sim Cain. The real newcomer tonight was Melvin Gibbs — the tall black five-string bass dude who you can tell’s having a good time because his big head keeps splitting into a grin. Is he laughing with Henry, or is it just his monster low frequencies playing a game on his jaw? While it’s sad to see Andrew Weiss gone it’s also refreshing to see Melvin fit into the group’s dynamics as tight as a rivet (even though he, too, dropped the occasional note). Theo did the sound, as always — it was fat and loud, as always. Any complaints? Yeah ... one. There was no pre-Weight material played. Not one tune from their previous four albums. And although it’s fantastic to see the new album worked out live as its name suggests it’s also a bit disappointing not to be able to hold some of the old Rollins Band classics up against the ear in a live exorcism. I guess, from the Rollins interview in last month’s Rip It Up, that maybe he’d rather turn his back on anything Weiss contributed to. But let’s not moan, because they threw in two as-yet-unreleased songs, the second of which will become their next Gun In Mouth Blues. The Rollins Band have changed over the years and personally I liked them better the way they were — diamondhard and faster — but they’re still one of the best live bands on the planet. Thank you, America. And thank you New Zealand for Solid Gold Hell who had a beltingly-good sound and a trombone .. . but they had a review last month.

JEREMY CHUNN