Them Crooked Vultures
Festival Hall, Melbourne
Friday 22nd January 2010

Dave Grohl, Josh Homme and John Paul Jones walked on stage at Festival Hall and pretty much just stood around for a bit. While the place screamed for them. This simple cause and effect set the pace for the rest of the night from the get go - Grohl (looking "heftier" than usual. "Drum" shape?) mugged behind his kit, Jones waved like the cool elder statesmam he is and Homme played the the "aw shucks" guy who's in a band with people even more famous than him. Second guitarist - Queens of the Stone Age guitarist Alain Johannes - played some of the more finicky bits across the night, but generally contended with standing on the outer while the core three faced each other laughing, smiling and rocking out. Riffing.

As is the case with most "supergroups", there's something a little hollow about Them Crooked Vultures. At the moment. Each member brings almost a perfectly weighted slab of their history to the pot for stirring - Grohl's thrilling drumwork from Nirvana and QOTSA, Jone's fluid, bluesy basslines and Homme's sludge guitar, creepy croon and general aura of cool menace. But none of things get's mixed in, rather they play alongside each other, unfettered. As if someone's soloed each member's take in the studio from choose-your-favourite-rock-album-ever, and left it at that. They like each other, and they enjoy playing together and they're great etc...but they haven't yet found what they can do together. Beyond adding to what default songwriter Homme's been able to come up with so far.

So, yeah: riffsville. Opener 'No One Loves Me & Neither Do I' meanders a little until the big breakdown; 'Elephants' is tremendous to watch for pure physicality on Grohls's part (in fact he's the highlight by a mile - you could turn the sound off and just watch him and still feel like you got your money's worth) and 'Gunman' gets a giant, consistent mosh. (Which isn't to be sneezed at, it will still be 34 degrees when we leave this shed tonight). But too many times the songs degenerate into a DVD workshop from Guitar Digest. Not that there's anything intrinsically wrong with that (that magazine's Victorian readership can probably be counted in the front 30 rows) but it makes you drift. Stops you listening to the song. Starts you looking through your fingers; at John Paul Jones, imagining Robert Plant. At Grohl, imagining Cobain.

Other highlights: The seven minute plus 'Warsaw' and 'Spinning in Daffodils'. A surprisingly touching solo piano excursion from John Paul Jones. The sight of Homme mincing around John Paul Jones for 'Interlude With Ludes', guitarless, seemingly a little self-conscious still in front of the Led Zep bassist. There's much to be excited about by the potential of this new band. They just hasn't transitioned fully-formed from the hangar yet.

(Pics: Matthew Miller)