Saturday, September 15, 2012

CRUDE LEVITATING CHURCHES NUMBER ONE JONES LIGHTNING LE QUESNE, subjective reviewage by matty

Well now, just when you thought Melbournites had relaxed a bit and extracted the 10 year old butt-plug a few snooty pricks put you in your short-ass kiwi place. Melbourne , thou art a city of paradox. whelp, this be a review. Snap crackle pop its a rock show. Like the one peaches sings aboot. Peaches. Oh god I love asses. Whatever happened to sex-synth-rock. Anyhoo. Crude played one absolute feltcher of a set the other night at a Burger joint called the B.east. 15 minutes of clanging, piercing hot caker guitar and a small-town ego in defense-mode, the Melbournite audience all professional and glib, sorta slimy and smarmy and holier-than-thou, with  that curious late-modern-capitalist brand of violence effervescing just under the skin like a needle fixers putrid abcess thats sorta gone off,  a kind of nasty, biological stink. I helped clear the room for the main act, bet they liked that. Well no, I think alot of people were there for the burgers, the show was free, it just sorta  just 'happened' to them, like a kind of distraction or a usurpation and once the art gets too, i dunnow, 'real' they leave in droves. But they had just eaten their fuckin burgers so it was time to go anyway wasnt it. But my little 'Crude does rock' fail didn't represent the rest of the piquant putsch ov a night. Coz first up was Christchurch legend Reta 'Lightening' LeQuesne doing the solo guitar/vocalist thing properly. Lequesne was vocalist in Axel Grinders and guitar vocalist in Snort, did a stint in the Axemen , and swamp rocked in the Stepford Five with Celia Man-fucking-Cini and the Billesdon twins...these were skuzz-swamp-nasty rock acts. Her set was a little bit rockabilly, kinda old-world, referencing the colonial blues of the Melbourne/London music patriarchy (you know who they are) ever so subtly, but ultimately hers was a south island of nz sound..
Then a really odd red rectangle guitar is brandished onstage by Number One Jones, ,,,,,stylish drums and bass backing up the rectangle rock machine.....an act perhaps maybe just a little bit inspired by The White Stripes and maybe the Oblivians, a smart dementia, a curdled milk drink, tasmanian devil chatter box nifty-fifty fly-by-nighter quasi quasi.  This ain't an art gallery matt, its a freaking burger bar and this is garage rock.
Of course I get up and act like im either a stand up comedian or in an art gallery, but i manage to spew out some caustic renditions of 'All Electric' and 'Drive On', (The Aesthetics were originally supposed to play but our drummer is doing some research in Germany). I then get some sort of crowd heckling or something and ad-lib a song proclaiming that I possess an intellectual capacity that cooly supersedes the collective intelligence of 'everyone in here put together'. And who knows who could've been there. A freaking scientist maybe. Accountant geniuses. People who know things I couldnt even dream of. Its just dangerous to posit such arrogance I guess. But who actually gives a fuck anyway? I mean really. Did the gig even fucking happen?  It may not have, this is fucknig Melbourne, too many bands, too many acts, no possibility for real notoriety or fame whatsoever here. Its just a big viscous blur here, no punctuation, no nothing, just a thousand hipster band names that change every fucking weekend. 'The Grizzlies' or 'Forest Family' or fucking 'Sandals' or 'Appalacian' or something. Its a big nothing. Not a chance for anyone to get anywhere here. Can someone name a Melbourne act from the last 10 years thats gone beyond a bit of local notoriety and really made any sort of impact?? I dunnow. Oren Ambarchi maybe. Pimmon? Nick Cave? I guess its a post fame era now. I should get with it. Democracy. True levelling of the field. Free music forever. Fame is so 90s, Matt...
And then it was the band with the biggest posters in town - thee Levitating Churches. Don't deny it hipster,,,,you know who they are...youve all seen the fucking posters. And they hammer out ballzy, snotty, rasping garage-psych-punk-hard-rock and they truly do not give a fuck what you think. They dont care if you like em or hate em. They rock it and should be on tour with Guitar Wolf. An absolute  blast of a set, thoroughly enjoyable and laudable.
Eat my ass.
God Im bored.
And so are Sydneys Salafis.



No comments:

Post a Comment