Fans: Lost & Found Mini-Festival
Rosie's, Brisbane
Sunday 7th March 2010
So long, Lost Weekend, and welcome to Fans' Lost & Found. Hastily organised by a crew of local promoters in the wake of The Lost Weekend's demise a week out from its debut, today's event clearly ain't about making bank. Hosted across two levels at inner city venue Rosie’s, Lost & Found features 12 local acts and 7 internationals. Ticket prices are set at $35; despite heavily-promoted two-for-one deals in the days preceding, attendance barely climbs above 200 throughout the event. (Echoes of The Lost Weekend promoters' infamous "insufficient time to reach critical mass" statement.) Those who wish to argue that Brisbane shows by international touring acts deserve the same attention as our southern capital counterparts had best look elsewhere for evidence.
"This feels weird, doesn't it?" queries No Anchor vocalist Ian Rogers, in reference to watching bands in a darkened, sweat-stinking Rosie's at 5pm on a Sunday. Blending elements of metal, doom, drone and rock, the trio’s sound is cataclysmic in these tight confines. Band and audience members see eye-to-eye; floor monitors are the only barrier. This is troublesome later in the day, but for now, we're happy to keep a few metres between their fearsome dual-bass-and-drums onslaught. Their fascination for bass drones becomes apparent as Rogers and Donny Miller explore a slow, heavy riff for minutes on end, while drummer Alex Gillies lies motionless on the floor. Perhaps unintentionally, the two bassists appear as shamans resurrecting their fallen comrade, who eventually retakes his position behind the kit for the final song. Or perhaps I'm romanticising the most brutal band on the bill playing a set that's simply brilliant in execution.
Earlier, local acts Tape/Off and Toy Balloon played simultaneously upstairs and downstairs, while members from each sported the other bands' merch. We few dozens in attendance could choose between indie rock from the former and electro-pop from the latter. Owing to their enthusiasm, Tape/Off proved the better decision. Three-piece indie pop act Mt Augustus emphasise their lyrical strengths by eschewing a bass drum in favour of a tempered rhythm section, while upstairs, punk quartet Villains Of Wilhelm seem at-odds with the sparse crowd and near-non-existent atmosphere.
Hawnay Troof is the day's first outstanding performer. Musically it's a middling melange of disco, pop and electro, but visually, the Californian native is striking. He dives between the downstairs stage's steel barrier and soon triggers a shift in mood through his sheer energy. With a set-up consisting of just a Macbook and a mic, he's dancing in our faces, encouraging crowd participation by bringing everyone down on their knees and then exploding in unison at the key moment. Deerhoof drummer Greg Saunier is invited onstage for the final two songs, while his bandmate Satomi Matsuzaki joins Japanese act Tenniscoats for some amusing coordinated dance moves. Near the end, Troof spouts positive noises about flying across the Pacific to share this moment with all of us. When viewed in the context of the failed Lost Weekend experiment, Troof inspires via indefatigable verve and tales of wresting opportunity from despair.
Upstairs, AxxOnn is most of the way through a moving suite of his idiosyncratic noise-electronica, which proves inspiring in an entirely different way. An unaccompanied Tom Hall triggers loops, delays and pedal effects to those few who aren't downstairs grinning at Hawnay Troof. The contrast between the moods of the two rooms is striking; despite AxxOnn's divisive nature, the few who bear witness to his performance tonight are either rapt in attention or embarking on closed-eyes searches of their psyches.
Since the stages are more or less running concurrently by 6.30pm, there's a pause while Los Angeles MC Busdriver and his touring DJ configure a table's worth of toys with which to supplement the verbose rapper's commanding voice. I can't decide which is more incredible, his broad vocabulary or his sleek, thousand-words-per-minute flow. Atop his offsider's MPC-produced beats and occasional electric guitar interjections, Busdriver loses himself among insanely complex rhymes that exhibit the yawning chasm of his vocal range. Between songs, he throws chocolate - sorry, 'candy' - into the crowd, and informs us that he's glad to be performing instead of watching rugby in his hotel room. He segues Bowie's 'Space Oddity' into breakthrough hit 'Unemployed Black Astronaut', before ending with the flute-led 'Imaginary Places'. Dude is a machine.
Upstairs, Stature::Statue trade places with Comic Sans; the limp electro-antics of the latter can't compare to Stature's unhinged indie-rock. The trio display an almost childlike excitement for their time on the (proverbial) stage, while a dedicated half-dozen fans thrash just inches away from the guitarist and bassist. Their drummer isn't having a good time, though: the kick drum pedal comes loose, which prompts Tape/Off's drummer to hold the entire kit together with his weight. Musically, they're sharper than a handful of razorblades, and thought the set ends with the drummer trashing the kit in frustration, they're easily among the best local acts to play today.
Tonight's proceedings take a turn for the weird when Can Can play downstairs at around 9pm. I wouldn't blame you for viewing 'experimental' as a synonym for 'wank', yet it's doubtful whether many in attendance are taking this too seriously. Tenniscoats guitarist Takashi Ueno improvises on an electric guitar while facing Deerhoof drummer Greg Saunier. Flanking Ueno are Deerhoof guitarists John Dieterich and Ed Rodriguez, who poke and prod at separate pedalboards to affect Ueno's output. Saunier is in a world of his own, thrashing violently away at the kit, completely unaware of the comedy act taking place just metres away: Rodriguez is swinging pedals around his head, hiding off-stage and poking with a pool cue; to close the ‘set’, he slowly daisy-chains a series of pedals across the stage to reach Dieterich. It's light-hearted fun, despite Saunier's violent percussion, and far more engaging than One One, which features Deerhoof singer/bassist Satomi Matsuzaki and Tenniscoats singer Saya Ueno performing 'cryptic pop', which proves too difficult to digest for all but a handful of witnesses.
Between those two are New Pants, a Chinese electro-rock quartet heavy on synth, vocoders and choreographed, Space Invaders-like dance moves. Their sound is awesome; people crowd the upstairs carpet to catch a glimpse of the tiny specimens. From a sort-of vantage point beside the throng, I wonder whether they're intimidated by the huge, tipsy Westerners dancing right in front of them. DZ aren't. As Brisbane's much-loved thrash punk party starters, they're acclimatised to playing in cramped confines. Shirtless drummer Simon Ridley is positioned adjacent to guitarist Shane Parsons, whose leads, microphone stand and pedalboard are routinely fucked with by overenthusiastic punters. The mayhem is all part of the charm, however, as they run through a searing half-hour of their best material. Late in the set, Parsons is held aloft by the crowd mid-song, as the newly-arrived Monotonix look on incredulously. Perhaps they're discussing how to attack the room with their guerrilla garage rock.
Except they're not. Immediately after DZ finish, Fans organiser Jesse Barbera announces that the Israeli trio has some bad news. They can't play, because singer Ami Shalev broke his leg in Florida a month ago and fucked it up so badly at Golden Plains the night before that he can barely walk, let alone perform. This news sucks immensely, as the act - known for drum-surfing, balcony-diving, and playing atop bars - were undoubtedly the main drawcard for many in attendance, this reviewer included. Turns out that the band were adamant that they'd be able to play earlier in the day, but Shalev's condition continued to worsen until they had cancel - for only the second time in their career - 20 minutes before they were due to perform. The band hand out dozens of free CDs to appease the disappointed crowd, who head downstairs to witness tonight’s true headliner, Lou Barlow.
Armed with just an acoustic guitar, a ukelele, and an enormous repertoire of songs, the Dinosaur Jr bassist, Sebadoh frontman and solo artist compels those who choose to stick around in the wake of the Israelis' cancellation. Lou Barlow is in a jovial mood, and clearly enjoys the attention thrust upon him. He's taking requests ('Not A Friend'), performing firsts (an unrecorded song written for his sister's wedding), debating the merits of travelling between Brisbane and Byron five times in three days, and questioning whether anyone in the world truly hates Neil Young's music. Owing to an unfamiliarity with his solo and Sebadoh material, I can't identify most of what he plays - though he airs 'Back To Your Heart', from Dinosaur Jr's 2007 release Beyond - but the quality of his songwriting is readily apparent. Barlow's having such a good time that he plays for nearly 90 minutes; by set's end, it's past midnight on Monday morning, and there's only 30 people left in the room. Hardly a 'critical mass', but we're each grateful for the chance to witness a living legend in such intimate surrounds.
Mixed bag though today has been, it's admirable of the Fans group to salvage some optimism and joy from The Lost Weekend's smouldering ruins. Like Cameron Smith from Mt Augustus stated earlier in the day: better luck next time.
Andrew McMillen
(Pics: Justin Edwards)