#003: the summer holiday issue The Lucksmiths · Girl Talk · Emiliana Torrini · Mountain Goats Purple Sneakers · Fleet Foxes · Howling Bells · Franz Ferdinand Tegan & Sara · Laneway Festival · Born Ruffians
#003: march 2009 So, you were probably expecting this issue in mid-December or something, right? Well, to be honest, we’ve not been busy with work, we haven’t been in hospital and we haven’t been eaten by (fuck yeah) sharks. We’ve been holidaying and festivaling it up. Not to rub it in, frozen-to-the-bone Northern Hemispherians. In between all our frolicking, we’ve scraped up enough content to bring you issue #003. Inside we have photos and reviews galore, an interview with Sara Quinn of Tegan & Sara, another one with Joel Stein of the Howling Bells, and a few articles. How about that? So we hope you enjoy issue number three. Check back in two months or sign up for our mailing list - link’s on the home page, as always! And a call out for all those who are willing to give us their blood, sweat & tears, we’re always looking for contributors, especially writers. So if you’re interested, hit us up on firstname.lastname@example.org.
Love, Kate and Natasha xo
Co-founder and Art Director: Natasha Theoharous
Co-founder and Contents Editor: Kate Walton
Contributors: Stephen Box· James Chen· Conor Curtis· Cass Grant· Roanna Manlutac· Nicola Moore· Natasha Theoharous· Elle Vee· Kate Walton
4 6 9 12 22 25 30 40 44 50 52 56 65 72 80 106 112
insight: monumental music in review: the lucksmiths insight: girl talk photography: emiliana torrini insight: in our bedroom after the war photography: the mountain goats photography: purple sneakers nye self-indulgent wank: top 10 of 2008 photography: fleet foxes in review: fleet foxes interview: howling bells photography: franz ferdinand interview: tegan & sara photography: tegan & sara photography & review: laneway festival photography: born ruffians see+listen+read 3
by elle vee One afternoon in my senior year of high school I skipped class with a friend and we drove to the local Burger King to see if T was working. He was in a really cool indie band that played around town. I had met him the other night and I was going to flirt with him, maybe even ask him out. The blood shot through my veins, my heart sat up in my throat. On the way there, we listened to Bee Thousand by Guided by Voices. I was unaware at the time that this record would forever resurrect feelings of anxiety deep in the pit of my stomach. Playing it reminds me of the overcast skies that day, the excitement of knowing that all of my other friends were in school, and of handing my phone number over the counter to him on a Burger King napkin. Flash ahead a few years. I was in the throes of the kind of passion that can only exist in the first few
months of a relationship. He made me a mixed tape, I made him a mixed tape. The one he gave me was in constant rotation. Walking to my classes on campus, it was playing. Sitting in my bedroom doing homework or talking on the phone, it was playing. Driving to see him two hours away, it was playing. And then we broke up. I listened to the tape with an increased frequency, if only to torture myself further. That depth of feeling coupled with the connection with the music left me crippled upon hearing it. And now, years later, when I run into anything by the Trashcan Sinatras or The Sea and Cake, or particular songs by Catherine Wheel, Morrissey or Billy Bragg, I’m nearly brought to my knees with the flood of memory. But it wasn’t only the anxious moments that led me to bond so intensely with the music. It happened while screaming the lyrics to The Pixies’ ‘U-Mass’ in a car full of
teenagers. It happened listening to Belle and Sebastian on a road trip to New York City for the first time. It happened by playing Sonic Youth on an airplane flying over the Atlantic. But I can’t remember the last time that I’ve really connected a moment of life to the music that surrounded it. I think I may be moving into a time in my life when I stop having monumental music moments. During the teens and early 20s, every major life event had a particular soundtrack. Who am I kidding; even the minor life events had soundtracks. The examples listed above were easily selected from the many that rushed instantly to mind. And it’s not that I’ve stopped listening to new music or stopped exposing myself to the possibility of music making an impact. I read the music blogs and buy the records. I have satellite radio and a campus radio station in near constant rotation. I still go see bands play and have a great time. I have lots of favorites that I carry around in the car (The National, for example, gets lots of car play, as does Phoenix, and Devendra Banhart). I really like this music, but I wouldn’t say that I’m particularly moved by it anymore than I seem to be moved by the day to day occurrences in my life. Back then, daily life was scary, unknown, varied, impromptu and dramatic. It was also a collection of firsts. Experiencing so many different things for the first time changes you. And if the radio is on, the music gets to come along for the ride, becoming an unwitting reminder of every tear and laugh you happen to let go along the way. Maybe it’s that growing up makes life more stable, that we are able to deal with things
without the swinging feelings. And maybe when the emotional waters are less rough (there are less crests and troughs), the music that you listen to during those moments just doesn’t have the chance to hit as hard. And so I’m now at a time when I find myself selecting music from Back Then more than ever before. When I used to complain about my dad playing only classic rock and would tease him about knowing very little about my music (though he did buy a copy of Mother’s Milk by the Chili Peppers!), he told me to wait until I’m older, that the music I was playing would someday become the classic rock of my generation. Upon thinking about it, I suppose it does sadden me a bit to think that I’ve already dipped into the waters of nostalgic music listening. But maybe my dad was right. The music of your most formative years sticks with you, inside you, as a helpful reminder of All The Things You Went Through. And unless others were in the car, on that road trip, part of the breakup, their monumental music will be different from yours. They will have their own ‘classic rock’ to turn to for comfort. I always thought that if I had kids, they would think I was so cool because I listened to Pavement and the Jesus and Mary Chain. They would see how much I felt it. No one else’s parents would listen to such cool music! But the deep seat of your own nostalgic memories, music linked and music sustained, will never be as relevant or accessible to others. Look out your window. See the next generation, headphones on? They are in the process of building their own monumental music moments.
the lucksmiths songs, the harpoons
hopetoun hotel sydney, NSW 15th november, 2008
by cass grant
Sometimes I wish The Lucksmiths would get off their arses and hit the road more often. Bass player Mark Monnone may call Tasmania his current home, but that’s hardly an excuse for the mostly Melbourne-based band to tour as infrequently as they insist on doing. They’re popular enough to make it worth picking up their game; their last show in Sydney speedily sold out and I was one of the fans turned away at the door. That’s why, when the band rolled into town to promote their new album First Frost, I made sure I was there early enough to catch the first opening act. What a good idea. The Harpoons are a really excellent cover band more than anything else; when I first arrived they were wrapping up a version of ‘Smokers in Love’ that, for a panicked moment, had me convinced I’d missed the Lucksmiths themselves. The most striking thing about the members of The Harpoons is their slightly neurotic resemblance to celebrities in their youth. It seemed only fitting that Zooey Deschanel sang lead vocals, though the upturned cuffs of her jeans fascinated me more than Gary Sinise as drummer. Pete Doherty, puffyfaced and barefoot, clutched his guitar to his chest as he played as if he’d never heard of Kate Moss or crack. Ryan Ross would have savaged Pete’s Hawaiian shirt before the end of the first song, but since he was only a Ross imitation any sartorial fits of rage were thankfully averted. A cover band covering celebrities, what a bright idea! Not really. The Harpoons redeemed themselves easily enough, since they were refreshingly unaware of the comparisons they drew and thereby
neatly avoided the label of ‘pretentious’. Also, they played a damn good version of ‘Shaking All Over’ that had Lucksmiths lead singer Tali White dancing jerkily on the dance floor. White himself drew stares of polite horror from those around him, something I suspect had less to do with his enthusiastic flailing and more to do with the scrappy moustache he was cultivating in the spirit of the month. It certainly didn’t help matters when he bantered between songs in his own set. (“I’ll still drink the beer that’s been sitting in the spotlight.” Pause. “I like it at body temperature.” Leer. Cue audience recoil, but laughingly, tempered with affection. After all, this band has held the hearts of Australian music fans for fifteen years. We’re old friends.) For the sake of balanced journalism I really ought to dedicate the same level of analysis to the second opening band Songs as I did for The Harpoons, but there are times when personal bias will overcome any sense of fair play. This is one of them: I’ll readily admit to preferring The Harpoons’ toe-tapping catchy tunes over the shoegazecountry-rock-inspired sounds purveyed by Songs. You know you’re in murky territory when you start to draw on genre labels to describe a band, more so when you then proceed to mention entirely unrelated bands like Kings of Leon and Crowded House in order to find a common point of reference, as I’ve just done. Nonetheless, Songs delivered a well-rehearsed set that steadily built up into an impressive wall of sound. Also impressive was the level of grooming each member dedicated to their appearances—excepting the lead
singer, whose impression of a balding roadie was singularly convincing until the moment he stepped up to the microphone and opened his mouth. Speaking of grooming: Tali White’s moustache deserves another mention due to its horrifying prominence under the orange spotlights. Three songs into The Lucksmiths’ set, the humid conditions soon had White scrubbing his face and palms against the sleeve of his shirt, the cymbals, the drapes behind the stage. It didn’t help much; twice his brushes went flying out of his hands. Still, the band performed a typically tight set, dropping old favourites ‘Camera Shy’, ‘Hiccup in Your Happiness’ and the terribly appropriate ‘T-Shirt Weather’ in between songs from their forthcoming album. “It’s good to know you guys like the new stuff so much,” Marty Donald said to an appreciative audience. “I guess that’s a good sign. Now here’s one that’s pretty rustic in comparison.” They launched into ‘Under the Rotunda’, and it was easy to see what Donald meant; when held up against new songs like ‘California in Popular Song’ and ‘Pines’, the later songs have a fullness and quality that the earlier tracks can’t match, due in large part to the presence of Louis Richter on second guitar. His addition to the line-up in 2004 helped to build on the signature Lucksmiths sound, and continue a process of musical growth that can be traced in the band’s lengthy discography. Judging from their performance the night I saw them play, there’s little chance of them churning out variations on the same theme. Other bands may end up sounding like pale imitations of one
another, or worse, Oasis performing covers of Oasis songs. The Lucksmiths have instead stamped out a formula that works well for their low-key pop concerns, and earned them the dedicated respect from an array of fans. They still need to work on coming back to Sydney sometime soon, and preferably without any hirsute accessories: at this I draw the line and say no, Tali, impersonating John Holmes will not result in a good outcome for you.
by sam yurick
It shouldnâ€™t feel like old news to talk about Girl Talk with under a year elapsed since his record dropped... 9
It shouldn’t feel like old news to talk about Girl Talk with under a year elapsed since his record dropped. However, without that kind of ratcheted up curve for how fast we consume music, without the synaptic glower engendered by the web 2.0 tendency to put everything within a few degrees of everything else, we’d probably be talking about him a lot less in the first place. This isn’t to say that failing to outsource some of your life to the Internet keeps you out of the club as far as enjoying his music. However, if you’ve ever held facebook vigils over a crush, if you’ve ever had a vertiginous 2001: moment with RSS, Girl Talk makes visceral sense in a way he might not otherwise. This is music as a perfect modern lifestyle accessory; schizoid wallpaper for an era that forces you to unearth tiny infinities and process sprawling contradictions just to stay informed. Physical exhaustion is a key component of Girl Talk’s shows because this is music that sets out to terraform your senses. However, you rarely lose yourself in Girl Talk record. Part of the point is that shiver of recognition when an old favorite takes center stage or something you’d dismissed spills it’s guts. Everyone is working through his or her context, picking up different punchlines, and misapplying different dance moves. However, when the surrender to an ecstatic moment does arrive, it’s a detourned kiss from The Beast that unshellacs buried wiring, leaving everything to spin like planets in mid-formation. One of the more salient critiques of
Girl Talk is that he occasionally fails on a musical level (chipmunking vocals, mixes that yield shit dynamics, dissonances between different keys etc.) and while I’m not usually conscious of these things, let alone bothered by them, (possibly just a sign that the onslaught aspect of the music is working) it made me realize that I’d love to see him change it up. What would the Girl Talk answer be to Slint’s seminal post-rock epic “Good Morning Captain”? What about the dense technical grindcore of Discordance Axis? How many more iterations of Feed The Animals will the market bear and, given that mainstream music is incidental to a large chunk of his audience, what will he be mashing up in five more years and how will it be arranged? I’m already nostalgic for the first time I heard “Juicy” + “Tiny Dancer” on Night Ripper and that wasn’t even two years ago. Bottom line is that I think Girl Talk is immensely unique, often moving, and dense enough to remain rewarding after dozens of listens. There are solid cases to be made that he embodies the decline of Western Civilization and the bastardization of the very notion of authorship. However, to my mind, he works in the tradition of Situationist detournment (the reappropriation of a known work, but with some aspect changed; often to subvert the work’s original meaning) albeit with an inverse level of malice towards popular art. Instead of cutting pop distractions with piss takes, he seeks to inflate what might seem trite into something epic. Inasmuch as he detourns, it’s often towards the hyperreal, inflating the ostensibly human scale of pop music into
something so big it can only be collective. His emphasis on creating an event as opposed to a spectacle certainly fits with this idea as well, as does his tendency to undercut the produced, expensive quality of many of his samples by ripping them out of context and contrasting them with rawer sounds. Most importantly, however I consider him a liberating force. Not that he’s “year zero” for mashups as an artform, but that by staking out “art” territory with what he does he encourages the next wave of
sample-based musicians to approach it as an artform and to think of themselves as songwriters as opposed to simply curators, performers, or technicians. In the same way that punk stripped rock and roll down to its sonic nucleotides, leaving exponentiating possibilities in its wake, Girl Talk creates a whole new set of possibilities by laying bare the genetics of popular music while showing that it can all be reintegrated into something fresh and genuinely affecting. That isn’t old news, that’s history.
photo by Miles Tsang: http://www.flickr.com/photos/nirazilla/
emiliana torrini charge group
metro theatre sydney, NSW 17th november, 2008
by james chen
in our bedroom after the war: the australian musical id.
by conor curtis
A typically successful Australian artist must not only sound good on record, they must be a relatable and enjoyable live performer. This ties in with the notion of â€˜mateshipâ€™; in short, Australians want musicians to be their real-life friends.
Some time ago, I walked into Sydney community radio station FBi with several copies of a demo CD I hoped they would play. I sat down with one of the volunteers from the station and discussed my work, ran briefly through the biography that I had appended to each copy and suggested radio-oriented tracks. The girl smiled and nodded and coaxed me alone until when I was done she asked if I had any gigs lined up for the near future. When I asked why, she replied that gig advertisements were the easiest way to gain airtime on the radio station. I’m a bedroom musician; I use an old, cumbersome desktop computer to write and produce my songs. This has its advantages, the most notable of which is that I always have a progress recording of whatever song I am writing at any one time. And indeed, given my position within Generation Y, I’m constantly uploading my songs onto the Internet to be critiqued by other like-minded bedroom musicians. Despite the advent of social networking websites such as MySpace that allow bedroom musicians worldwide to communicate and self-promote with ease, Australia’s musical identity seems to be intrinsically tied to the rock’n’roll culture we’ve bred over the past fifty years. A typically successful Australian artist must not only sound good on record, they must be a relatable and enjoyable live performer. This ties in with the notion of ‘mateship’; in short, Australians want musicians to be their real-life friends.
The problem with this is that it restricts the opportunities for bedroom musicians to flourish. Contests such as V Festival’s Garage2V and Triple J Unearthed offer the chance to play a desired concert as a ‘prize’ without even considering that some artists do not create their music with the ultimate goal of playing at a festival. Some artists never intend to play a single concert in their lifetime. The idea that this makes them more difficult to associate with is in and of itself a foolish one; modern-day artists such as Atlas Sound and Rick White composed entire albums in their bedrooms, albums that have been noted for their accessibility and emotional content. And I’m fairly positive most people reading this article would have listened to a little album called Pet Sounds. Moreover, this assumes that every artist should aspire to the common Australian ideal, that performing live is the apex of musical achievement. Albums like Britney Spears’ Blackout dispel this notion convincingly through their use of the human voice as an instrument, morphing and twisting it into snarling forms that not only sound completely dissimilar to the source material but forms that also rob the voice of its gender. Critical acclaim has been lavished upon groups who have utilised this line of thought; both Kid A and Silent Shout were met with unanimous approval from the press. Of course, none of these artists are Australian, so why am I even talking about them? Put simply, the chasm between Australian and international pop music is a vast one, and one
that threatens to stereotype our musical output in the future. The most internationally well-known Australian band to date is arguably AC/DC. Two of our most successful exports this decade have been Wolfmother and Jet. We are getting a reputation as being a backwards-thinking nation musically, and it’s a problem that’s tied intrinsically to the Australian virtue of ‘mateship’. When reviewing Bernard Fanning’s “Wish You Well”, Drowned In Sound’s Jonathan Fisher writes: “It seems apparent that the only reason he has a solo record deal is that his other band, Powderfinger, are quite the ‘rock stars’ in Australia. So, anyone looking to make a quick buck could do worse than starting an Incubus/ The Black Crowes tribute band and emigrating to the land famed for its sun, surf and, on this showing, utterly appalling music.” While more than a bit blunt, Fisher makes his point clearly. The archetypal Australian rock band is typically male. They are strongly influenced by Australian rock heritage such as Billy Thorpe & the Aztecs and the aforementioned AC/DC. They drink regularly, they laugh heartily, they tour their home country frequently. And above all, they come across as distinctly down to earth. In Australia, if an artist seems like a good Australian, then their output gains additional credibility. The thing is, Australia has been host to several creative outlets in the past.
Anyone who’s listened to “Guitar OverDrive” by the Wild Cherries will attest to that, as will anyone who’s listened to The Birthday Party or The Saints. The recent All Tomorrow’s Parties festival highlighted the depth of Australian music created within the past thirty years or so, and proved that we have a lot to offer the world. Modern-day groups like Hunter Deanna, Bridezilla, and Beaches all show that Australia could easily be a force upon the international music landscape. Two of my favourite Australian albums of recent are On Second Thought by Sandpit and Hope Springs by Gersey. Both of these albums convey an insular environment, one though loneliness and the other through dreaminess. Neither was picked up upon release, one of the bands is no more and the other is on hiatus as far as I know. Bands who mine similar emotional territory, such as Sodastream, are also no longer with us, in their case after a decade of living with little fanfare. For a long time, Australia’s most wellknown music has evoked our beaches and our bars and our easygoing lifestyle. There’s more to us than that, but in order to convince the world of this first we have to convince ourselves. We’re not just a country of Working Class Men, we’re a country of Internationalists. Or at least, we could be.
mountain goats manning bar sydney, NSW 5th december, 2008
by kate walton
frightened rabbit, yves klein blue, british india
manning bar sydney, NSW new yearâ€™s eve, 31st december, 2008
by stephen box
You didnâ€™t think you were going to walk away from this issue without us throwing some self-indulgent end-of-the-year album lists in your face, did you?
by kate walton, roanna manlutac & natasha theoharous
10. Sigur Rós - Með suð í eyrum við spilum endalaust I wasn’t much of a Sigur Rós fan until this year. A casual one, sure, but not one who’d rave about them to anyone who’d listen. This record persuaded me that doing so would be a good idea. 9. Cut Copy - In Ghost Colours Antipodean pride represent. My electronic/dance/whatever-youcall-it fallback of the year. 8. High Places - High Places This came totally out of the blue for me. I downloaded it on a whim and have been singing its praises ever since. Island pop has never sounded so good. 7. Los Campesinos! - Hold on Now,Youngster... One of two records put out by the Welsh indie popsters this year (well, the second was described by the band as an “extended extended player”), Hold on Now, Youngster... could well end up being the poster album for zine-loving, vinylbuying, internet-addicted kids of the late Noughties. 6. Frightened Rabbit - The Midnight Organ Fight A devotional and sometimes almost too earnest album about life and its frustrations. It’s a record to lose yourself in, and a great one at that. 5. Wolf Parade - At Mt. Zoomer Somehow I’d completely missed Apologies to the Queen Mary when it was released; I don’t know how, but I did. And boy, am I regretting that now. At Mt. Zoomer isn’t as immediately
enjoyable as its predecessor, but it’s definitely a grower, and has remained a staple of mine throughout the year. 4. Santogold - Santogold Completely deserving of the hype, Santogold sees our new favourite Brooklyn girl, Santi White, dipping her toes in everything from hip-hop to perfect-for-summer 80s throwbacks. It’s undeniable that Santogold will go down in history as one of the indie icons of 2008. 3. Foals - Antidotes Math rock with feeling. Antidotes runs the gamut from echo-y, rainy-day music to some of the catchiest and most danceable tunes of the year. 2. Lykke Li - Youth Novels Lykke Li’s charming debut is full of quirky details you only notice over the course of multiple listens. It’s like nothing I’ve ever heard before, mixing Caribbean rhythms, off-beat R&B sensibilities, and vocals that are alternately breathless and soaring. And judging by videos splashed all over the internet, Youth Novels translates even better in a live setting. 1. The Kills - Midnight Boom Undoubtedly my most-played record of the year. It was criticised by some as being too much of a pop-focused excursion from The Kills’ usual raw and bluesy stripped-back guitar rock, but just because it doesn’t sound like the lovechild of Animal Collective and of Montreal via the surrogate mother of Deerhoof, doesn’t mean it’s not a bloody good album.
9. Hercules & Love Affair Hercules & Love Affair Another primary disco album that is as smooth as the milk in your morning coffee. With its beats varying from tribal to funk, Hercules & Love Affair’s self-titled release is an album of thorough joy. 8. Thao Ngyuen & The Get Down Stay Down - We Brave Bee Stings and All If only Katy Perry put a sock in it, we might see someone like Thao Ngyuen surface to prominence. Ngyuen has a talent for crafting the most adorable pop tunes and if Perry can beatbox like Ngyuen, I will happily withdraw the earlier statement. 7. High Places – High Places The Brooklyn duo have risen from no where with some fascinating instrumentals this year. Experimental in approach, technically resolved on record, High Places’ self-titled release is an exploration into sound and imagery.
10. Pivot - O Soundtrack My Heart They could be the best export this land has to offer right about now. O Soundtrack My Heart thumps and provokes you in the most delicate and alluring of plagues. O Soundtrack My Heart is a revelation for Pivot.
6. Mount Eerie - Lost Wisdom Phil Elverum’s (predominantly) duets with Julie Doiron produce some of the most heart-tugging songs this year. Simply stunning. 5. Glass Candy - B/E/A/T/B/O/X Disco has been riding high on my radar this entire year and technically this album shouldn’t be here because its release date was last year. However, if repetition was a factor in determining the ranks of these
albums, B/E/A/T/B/O/X should’ve come first. B/E/A/T/B/O/X is pure dance floor gold. 4. Gang Gang Dance - Saint Dymphna Saint Dymphna is a record of surreal landscapes but delivered with potency and strong conviction. Its rather confusing if a record makes you physically twitch. So on that alone, it must be something special ...I hope. 3. No Age - Nouns With the contrasting styles of Randy Randall and Dean Spunt, No Age are certainly a band worth hearing. Nouns is a kick to the gut, knees, face and ears. Stemming from an entire subculture, No Age have certainly traveled long and far to get to where they are now. Finally a band that actually doesn’t give a fuck. 2. Bon Iver - For Emma, Forever Ago Justin Vernon’s retreat into discovery, heartache and isolation manifested into the debut album of the year. Vernon presents a vulnerability so sincere and evocative through his falsetto and bare instrumentals. For Emma, Forever Ago is a romance in reality. 1. Beach House - Devotion This Baltimore duo have made some of the most luscious, dreamy psych-pop gems this year. Devotion holds your hand and takes you on the most wondrous journey ever. Before you know it’ll hold your heart too. It is simply beautiful.
10. Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks - Real Emotional Trash A tokenistic entry into my top ten as a result of my poor listening habits in 2008. Whilst the efforts of Malkmus and co. are more cohesive here than on their previous offerings, frustration sets in as potentially interesting songs go nowhere. 9. Foals - Antidotes You say “math rock”, I say UK indie finally gettting it right for the first time in a long while. 8. Be Your Own Pet - Get Awkward One of the many bands to break up in 2008, Be Your Own Pet delivered us this raw, girlgroup-influenced garage punch to the face before taking off into the sunset. Crack open a cheap beer, sit back and try not to take it so hard. 7. Girl Talk – Feed The Animals Pop culture enthusiast extraodinarre Gregg Gillis takes your typical family wedding and mates it with a bunch of alternative favourites, some hip-hop, and all those guilty pleasures you and everybody else knows word for word. The end result is music that makes you want to rip all your clothes off and grind against a stranger in a dark, sweaty room. 6. Deerhunter - Microcastle/ Weird Era Cont. Microcastle is the sound of someone grabbing you by the hair of your nape, thrusting your head into a fish tank and watching you slowly drown (except, you know, more fun than that sounds).
5. of Montreal - Skeletal Lamping Like an hour-long groping. Although exhausting to listen to, Skeletal Lamping provides us further insight to the 24/7 acid trip taking place in Kevin Barnes’ head. Or should I say, Georgie Fruit’s head? God, I don’t even know any more. 4. Cut Copy - In Ghost Colours Dan Whitford delves deeper into his record collection and emerges with this gem. Taking everything that was good about the 80s, swirling it around and peppering it with his painfully earnest, vulnerable, romantic lyrics, Cut Copy achieve something rare in this world of the indie-dance crossover act; producing an album with heart. 3. The Dodos - Visiter This San Fransican duo produce one of the most potent, manic and interesting albums of this year. Coming from a person who never thought she would use the last three adjectives to describe what is essentially a folk record, that is a powerful statement. 2. Born Ruffians - Red,Yellow & Blue Born Ruffians have taken my heart with their debut record. Twitchy, nevous, mid-song changefilled, completely endearing but never tiring. 1. No Age - Nouns I actually bought this album. Holy shit.
fleet foxes metro theatre sydney, NSW 3rd january, 2009
by stephen box
fleet foxes the dodos
metro theatre sydney, NSW 3rd january, 2009
by nicola moore
A good concert is one that can convince you of something. Fleet Foxes managed to convince me that I was, in fact, there solely to see them, and not just for their supporting act (The Dodos – amazing, bluesier live than recorded, but still not as good as the headliners.) Whether it was the powerful performance of Fleet Foxes themselves, or the potency of the seven dollar gin & tonics I was drinking down like mother’s milk, I don’t know – but I was also convinced of a sudden pining to take up violin, mittens, and pre-civil war north-eastern America. Atmosphere was the strong point of the night. The hour and a half set seemed momentary upon reflection; I awoke from something dreamlike at eleven o’clock. Opening with a deafening five man harmony, they stunned their audience into total silence. After the first twenty or so awestruck minutes, I wondered whether Fleet Foxes were one of those live bands; technically brilliant but with not much else going on. But no, their banter was redeeming, and they managed to break the stillness, that frigidity which can smother the greatest live potential. When it came time for the likes of ‘White Winter Hymnal’ and ‘Oliver James’, the crowd pretty much lost their shit. And I know for a fact that no one else had been frequenting the rear bar as much as my boyfriend and I, so that must tell you something about the quality of the performance.
like this atmospheric crossover, between pretentious Vogue-smoker and prolific VB-consumer; inhibitions lost in favour of sharing something we all really know is sort of special. As mentioned afore, their harmonies are almost chilling, and though I know that in the wide world of Fleet Fox reviewing, the comparison is becoming tired, there definitely are echoes of Crosby, Stills & Nash about them. Listening to them I feel like my Dad, only slightly more modern, a little more choral. I spent all of high school wishing the hymns we sang sounds like this. It was gospel re-education, with the added benefit of much more snowflake and scarfwrapping imagery. The encore showed lead singer, Robin Pecknold, address the crowd most personally, stepping out from behind his mic and playing an acoustic piece (which I’d not heard before, apparently in the style of “ye olde Englande”) to calm us all down and ensure that we left remembering their impact. A packed out Metro Theatre standing in silence as a single man serenaded us all with only his voice and a tinny guitar. Basically, this concert was like good sex. Exhausting, surprising, powerful. And like all good sex, there was nothing to do afterwards but laugh, and then step outside for a Vogue.
In this second half a corner was turned, from sophisticated-reverence-of-oldtimey-obscure-Washington-musings (Lord knows she’s good with a hyphen), to boozy feelings of group unity, whooping, heckling, laughing. I particularly
by natasha theoharous 52
Sidestage: So how are you this-- I’m assuming it’s not morning over there? Joel Stein: No, I don’t even know what time it is, let me— oh, it’s still morning. Forty minutes until the morning is gone. Oh, you’re currently back in Australia? Yeah but being in a band, it’s always the morning [laughs]. I’ve also been sleepless, but no matter. Yeah? Well, a few ecstasy pills and a few lines of coke will get you through that. (Ed’s note: He’s joking, kids. Drugs are bad for you.) What have you and the band been up to of late? Rock climbing, bungee jumping, sky diving, a pool comp... our bassist has become an excellent ping pong player and the drummer has just invented the first tricycle that can ride up walls. Now that’s an innovation. Patented it yet? Not yet. Soon, soon. I take it you’re still based in London, but you wrote your new album, Radio Wars, somewhere in country Victoria. What made you want to write there? I guess isolation; it’s just so much easier for us when we’re not being distracted by the jungle of the city. Where exactly did you write these songs? Well the songs weren’t actually written there, some of them were written in London. Actually, the majority of the songs and ideas were written in London,
they just came together in the country. How was the song-writing effort this time around, being a more collaborative effort whereas your debut was more singular? (Lead singer, Juanita Stein, solely penned the first album.) It was really, really good. We’ve all grown [as musicians] so we’re all writing more now than when it was just Juanita, whereas before, [when we each tried writing ourselves], it just wasn’t all coming together and it wasn’t what the band wanted at the time. This album, or this process, we all connected more, all grew together more and fit into the idea of what we wanted more. Was it a case of all being at the same place, at the same time mentally? Uh, maybe, possibly; I’ve never actually thought of it in that way. It’s just when you spend so much time with a person, like you do in a band, the band’s ideas they’re all still different - but they’re more united. You wrote the album’s closer, “How Long”, by yourself though. How did that song come to be? I’d love to give you an interesting story but— [pauses] it’s about me getting my heart ripped out. Oh. Okay. I feel horrible now. It’s okay. [laughs] I’m just telling you the truth. Moving awkwardly on, this album touches on some more traditionally post-punk themes and instrumentation, evident in tracks such as “Radio Wars”
and especially in “Digital Heart”, with experimentation is going into the studio its thrumming, mechanical rhythm. with nothing and coming out with this Where do you think the influence experimental album. Don’t tell the comes from: now living in a city much record company or they’ll kick me out. larger than Sydney, or what you’ve been listening to of late...? Ha, they don’t tend to look so I think it’s a big melting pot of all those favourably on these things, do they? things, actually. I guess we don’t all sit No [laughs]. Maybe [I can leave that] down in a circle and make a conscious as a solo project for when I’ve built a effort to be all “so this is going to sandpit in my house with a piano inside be like this” and “this’ll be like that”. it. I think we’ll have this idea for a song and then dress it in the way that it calls Nice. How did you find your producer for. But definitely, for this album, I think our Nigel Godrich frames of mind (who has are completely produced for different to the likes of [Our producer, Nigel the first album; Radiohead, Godrich] used to say we do want to Air and Paul experiment more. “don’t do this” and McCartney)? I don’t think we Through our we used to tell him to experimented management. fuck off but he— he enough on this We sent album. It’s just a him some stood his ground. number of things; recordings and ideas and feelings. well, he liked And then some them. It was more ideas, again. great working [laughs] with him, he was very very – what’s that word? In terms of experimentation, did you Enthusiastic and passionate and— try a lot of experimentation in the studio - well, even if it was not enough? Would work with you rather than [laughs] We tried! We were really trying to impose a certain direction? rushed, trying to record all our songs, That’s right. Nigel definitely has more but you can definitely hear it on this of a pop, electronic mind which was album. For example, in “Treasure Hunt” great, because we’re always open to we were marching on this big wooden new things, and just this fresh set of ears stage all the way throughout, I got this because, and this happens a lot, you just new analogue keyboard, Brendan got end up getting lost inside yourself. He one too and we were coming up with was challenging to work with, too. He all these new sounds. But my idea of
used to say “don’t do this” and we used to tell him to fuck off but he— he stood his ground. [laughs] The album release date has been put back more than once. When were you originally supposed to release it? I think late October but then it was pushed back and back again. To be honest, it wasn’t finished; we still haven’t gotten the final product back. It is finished now, though. We ended up finishing recording in August, uh— you know what? Don’t hold me on those dates. Ha, sure. How have you been spending that downtime from then until now? We have been back in Sydney for the past two and a half weeks, but before that, we were playing a few shows, doing some promo in London, a bit of writing. Getting a start on the next release? Always, we’re always writing. You’re not the types that try to prolong the writing process? Well I didn’t say we’re always writing good stuff [laughs] but we’re always writing, whether it’s electronic stuff or more classical stuff or more art nouveaustyle. You’re set to play an NME Shockwaves show in early February. How has the UK music press continued to treat you, considering their less-than-spectacular track record with these matters? Good. Surprisingly good. We’ve only done some very limited shows of late, but the reflections of the mirrors have been good. I don’t know what it’s going
to be like when the album drops, like anybody, but the UK music press is kind of like one giant school: one day you’re the coolest kid, the next you’re sitting in the corner, staring at some marbles on the floor. Conversely, the Australian music scene has started to swing away from that “rock” dominance that held five, ten years ago and has started to embrace a further diversity in their acts. Being connected to this as Australian musicians but having uprooted yourselves into a completely different scene, what are your views on this? I think it’s brilliant. I’m really happy that a band like The Presets have gotten really big. There’ll always be a few bands, in my opinion, that shouldn’t be big [laughs] and bands that need to be big. The best pub rock band that we ever had were AC/DC, and they were brilliant but I think what the Australian scene [as a whole] traditionally did was try to follow that. I guess when there’s a success in one area, others will try to follow. Exactly, exactly. Everybody wants another AC/DC but you know, AC/DC were AC/DC. I think what is happening now is really positive and I hope it keeps expanding and getting better and better. Sadly, I think our time is up but I hope you enjoy the rest of your day, hope that it isn’t one big perpetual morning. I shall. I think it should be quite chill. You have a good day, thanks a lot! Radio Wars is now out through Liberation in Australia and Independiente Records in the UK.
franz ferdinand red riders, temper trap
enmore theatre sydney, NSW 6th january, 2009
by kate walton
by kate walton 65
Sidestage: Hi Sara, how are you? Sara: Fine, thank you. How are you?
So you prefer being in the studio to, say, touring? Oh yeah. Obviously, I couldn’t be in the studio a hundred percent of the I’m very well. Where are you today? time, that would make me crazy. But I’m in New York City right now. I think I feel the most challenged and the most satisified, artistically, when I’m Oh, cool. What’re you doing in New writing and in the studio. Touring is a York? really weird thing, it’s like-- that hour or I’ve just been sort of hanging out, two hours or whatever, when you’re actually. Just over the last couple of performing, is often incredible, yet you months, since we got off tour. Just sort probably spend 22 hours of the day of like hanging out, working on some doing nothing. You’re travelling or you’re other music stuff, not my own stuff, setting up but there’s a real monotony but just helping and boredom that out with some comes with that, friends, and being and that’s when I Oh yeah, well I mean social, and going start to ger really to museums. I some people are giant anxious. You only would call this get to be creative assholes. But I mean, I a vacation, but for like an hour or it’s the probably feel like that, and I feel an hour and a half most busy thing like that’s what’s always every day, really. I’ve down all year, And so, for me been awkward for me, being in New York when I’m in the City on vacation. having quote-unquote studio it’s like this [laughs] unbridled-- just, “fans”. you’re working and Do you find it making music for hard to settle twelve or fourteen hours a day. It’s like, down and actually relax? oh, so satisfying. I don’t know this thing you speak of - “relaxing”. [laughs] I think-- You know what? I recently realised that my favourite thing to do is to be in the studio. I’m very, like, OCD and I like to be very intellectually stimulated by activities and whatever, so I find it really hard to relax because when I start to relax I start to get really anxious and I need to like work out or something.
Have you started working on the next Tegan & Sara album yet? Are you planning it? We have planned it, and we have about 40 songs written. We just went down to New Orleans actually, and wrote, Tegan and I did, for the first time together, wrote about seven songs together. We starting to look at studios, and I think we’re about to go in and start making it in May. May or June.
With the lyrics and everything so far, do you think it’s going to be similar to The Con? I’m not so sure. You know, it’s tough right now. It’s hard to sit back and really see it for myself. It’s a strange way to look at things. It’s like when you look at yourself and it’s hard to see changes in who you are as a person or your body or your life. Sometimes in retrospect when a lot of time has passed, it’s easier to see the differences. Like, I can go back now and listen to previous albums and think, wow this sounds so different to how it sounded to me when we made it. So, right now because the material is so new it sounds really different to me. But for all I fucking know it sounds like the same thing. [laughs] Okay, so because you’ve already toured Australia for The Con, I thought we might just have a bit more of a general chat today. Is that alright? Oh sure, yeah. Great. So, I read this old interview where you were talking about how when you meet other bands that you come across as fannish or geeky. Do you still feel like that? Oh yeah. But I mean, I feel that way about most people. Meeting most people. Like a twelve year old came up to me the other day on the street and wanted to take a picture with me, and I felt totally geeky and intimidated and like, you know just sort of socially-- maybe not intimidated but certainly socially awkward. I think that it’s just strange when you feel that you’re meeting people who have had a really serious impact on you. Sometimes it’s not even
musicians for me. It can be writers or people who’ve done art or who have a job I’m really impressed by, I’ll just feel unworthy. Or I’ll feel really-- well, I really like to deconstruct and analyse what people do and how they do it and that makes me feel really insecure because I want to like ask them a million questions and that makes me kind of feel vulnerable. So I think that’s why we geek out a bit. We’re not like, oh hi nice to meet you. We’re really inquisitive, we want to know a lot about people. I think that’s quite reassuring for fans of bands, to know that even people in bands themselves feel like that, too. Oh yeah, well I mean some people are giant assholes. But I mean, I feel like that, and I feel like that’s what’s always been awkward for me, having quote-unquote “fans”. I’m a fan, so like I understand it, but I also feel very uncomfotrable with that attention turned on me. I think we try to sort of stabilise the audience sometimes in that fashion, by being really human and being really genuine and authentic, which I think even grosses people out sometimes. Like, especially-People who are there who are like journalists. We’re kind of over the top with this every person kind of banter, all hey I’m just like you! And being so authentic, I think that-- It’s just so strange to me. Sometimes it’s really exhilarating but when they’re just screaming, like I love you! I’m just like, [sounding exasperated] oh come on, how could you love me? You don’t even know me! So I think sometimes we really try to calm the audience down, to the point where we’re actually awkward. While you’re out here in Australia, is
there anything you want to do here I hate-- no, hate is a strong word. I that you didn’t get around to last time? generally don’t have a great New Year’s Like holding koalas or anything like Eve. I’m not like, an organised celebrating that? kind of person. Birthdays make me really [laughs] We did a lot of the quintessional uncomfortbale. Maybe Christmas is Australian tourist kind of stuff when we okay? I get bummed out on holidays, so first went years and years and years I’m excited that we’re actually working ago. We occasionally do the koala thing, on New Year’s Eve. We’ll have friends I mean that doesn’t get old for us. But around and we’ll be with all of our band I think this time, we have a lot more and crew. One of my aunts is travelling time off. We’ve really made some great with us. So it’s going to be really nice, like friends in Australia. So we’re gonna like a group family thing. If I was at home, go surfing and do some beach stuff. It’s I’d probably would do something really nice to have friends in cities. When we reclusive, like watch a movie and drink a used to tour in bottle of wine. Australia we didn’t really You’re still living I still kind of groan know people in in Montreal, when we’re doing the cities and right? stuff, so we’re Yeah. That’s sort [interviews], but I used going to try of my main to be like a kid having and see it from residence, yeah. a tantrum, you know? their perspective I feel like I’m and get more floating around [puts on a childish of a local hang the world a bit voice] “But I don’t out kind of right now, but vibe instead of yeah. want to. “ like, on tour, in the hotel, And Tegan’s still the promoter in California? recommends a restaurant or something She’s been going back and forth and that’s all you see of the city. I’m between Vancouver and LA. She’s home really looking forward to this trip. We now for the holidays right now. She’s the also have a lot of family in Australia, in good daughter, she spends so much time Brisbane. So coming to Australia now is with my mom that even if I spent the a lot more familiar and homey for us. rest of my life with my mom, I’d never be able to catch up. You’ll be in Australia over New Year’s The reason I ask is that I was wondering Eve, playing Falls Festival. If you weren’t if we could talk a bit about Proposition playing at Falls, how would you be 8? [Proposition 8 is a bill that passed celebrating? in California in the US election last [immediately] I hate New Year’s Eve. November that banned gay marriage
in California, despite gay marriage being previously legal in the state.] Oh yeah, sure. I guess the thing that’s been really upsetting for me is... I mean, I’m not really involved myself politically in America or the gay rights movement in America. I mean, I’m obviously very concerned about Canada and when the Civil Marriage Act was passed in Canada, I was thrilled and I was in a long-term relationship and we’d been, y’know, we’d done notorised common-law documents for immigration purposes. So I really thouht of myself as married and I’d come to accept and almost become complacent that in Canada, not only can you marry, but you can adopt, and-- we have basically the same rights. And once you have those rights, you realise how tremendously unfair it is, that people don’t have those rights based on sexuality. And if you believe that sexuality is something that’s pre-determined,
that’s genetic, that’s not a choice, then it becomes even more upsetting, obvsiously. And I think that’s what’s really beomce a challenge for me, that I don’t really understand why in America it’s still being put to a public vote. I don’t think that’s fair. And I think that a lot of the advertising and the commericals and whatever that were happening at the time, they’re just so slanted and they don’t really explain, that it’s not just, “hey, we wanna have a wedding and a cake”. It’s what comes with any marriage, that you have rights and benefits. If you die or you end up in the emergency room. And health care and dental care, and just, you know, just sharing your life with somebody. It just pisses me off but it also makes me so sad. It directly affects people that I know now, because I have so many friends in the state. Like, my sister has been living in California. It’s really just so sad, especially when you
think about it as a human rights issue. People in the future will look back on this as being really fucked up, so we’re really part of that movement right now to change that and to draw attention to it. It’s really good that people have recognisable figures in that scene-Well, yeah, I mean-- We’re at a really interesting time right now. It’s different now, because it’s normal to have gay people in the public and you’re not marginalised the way you used to be. Doing what Tegan and I do-- we still get a lot of the “girls as gay people” thing. There’s only so many battles we can fight, because people are going to stereotype us or judge us or be homophobic anyway. So, we’re just trying to be ourselves-- like, for teenagers and for people who feel uncomfortable or who feel ashamed. We’re part of a movement for people who need role models. I feel really happy about that, but we still have so much more to do. It’s not just the stigma and the humiliation and the stereotypes, when you don’t even have the rights on a government level. It’s very hard to change people’s views when you don’t even have the rights on a government level.
On a lighter note, what have your favourite records of 2008 been? I’ve just been making my top ten list. I really loved the No Age record and I loved the Atlas Sound record, and-[laughs] I love Rihanna. I would marry her. I would ditch any girl for Rihanna. [laughs more] But, um-- I like a lot of instrumental stuff, like this record called flying lotus. Honestly, though-- I haven’t been listening to a ton of music, because i’ve been writing. So I get really hooked on certain things.. I bought a best of Patsy Cline the other day -- well, not the other day. About three months ago. And that’s all I’ve listened to. I stare at my iTunes, and it’s like, What am I going to listen to? Hmm, Patsy Cline! I just haven’t stopped listening to it. You’re playing a lot of festivals while you’re here in Australia. Why should people drop by and check out your set? You know.. This question always stresses me out. Because I don’t know why! I think we’re at a really good time in our career, and I feel like you could pop us in front of people who don’t know us. And we’d definitely entertain them and potentially get some converts. What’s
starting to happen is that we have a body of work, we have six albums -- five albums. [laughs] Getting ahead of myself. [imitating herself] Yeah, we have 100 albums. Lots of material. But yeah, there’s not necessarily something for everyone, but we’re not just touring one album. We have a lot of different material and a lot of different energy with different albums, different songs. If anything, at a lot of festivals, there’s barely any girls. So, I guess if you wanna see both genders represented, I guess you can come see us because we’re girls. [laughing] No, no, don’t even quote that. That’s terrible. Do you think your audience has changed as you’ve progressed as a band? Oh my god, yeah. It definitely grew with us. We started out playing to like 20 people, maybe not even that sometimes. We’ve seen different tiers of audiences - college kids, girls, queer kids. Then you start to see a real mix across the board, even though it drives me crazy when people say that -- I’ve def noticed a lot more boys. When we started out, we really did have a huge female audience. We’re definitely seeing the dudes come out. Rock out to The Con and stuff. Our audience has definitely changed, for sure.
What are your favourite festivals to play? Oh geez.. I don’t really like festivals all that much. No? No, not really. It’s totally not conducive to-- I don’t know. It’s like playing in a wind tunnel. You’re dealing witht he element,s and it’s hot and the sun is out, and people are just-- loitering and drinking. Huge amounts of people. it’s hard to connect one on one and that’s kind of what we do. There’s always like sound problems. But this year, our goal was to play festivals, and to try to actually get into it. And honestly we had a great festival season I loved it, we played a lot of US festivals, and a bunch of festivals in Europe-- and Germany in particular was amazing. So I’m starting to feel better about it. I still kind of groan when we’re doing them, but I used to be like a kid having a tantrum, you know? [puts on a childish voice] But I don’t want to. And now I’m kind of like, oh, okay. Sadly, our time’s up now, so thank you very much for talking to me, and we’ll see you soon! Thank you!
tegan&sara an horse
enmore theatre sydney, NSW 8th january, 2009
by kate walton
photography & review:
photos by k at review by c as
te walton ss grant
reiby place sydney, NSW 8th february, 2009
When I think of festivals I think of cheap beer, pub rock bands, dusty grass or churned mud (or both, depending on the season) and impolite boys who cannot keep their shirts on or their hands to themselves. St Jeromeâ€™s Laneway Festival sidesteps any distaste I feel for the whole phenomenon by providing an experience so far removed that at times I forget that Iâ€™m really at a music festival.
At other times it’s hard to deny what’s staring me in the face. Long drinks and bathroom queues are a given at an event like this, but when the line for The Basement stretches well into two set lists’ worth of songs you start to question the logistics of it all. At least the Sydney festival crowds remained at a manageable level, unlike the near-riots that threatened to break out in Melbourne the previous
week. With all four Sydney stages neatly contained in the one locale, the organisers avoided having to negotiate the re-entry of festivalgoers from city streets back into the enclosure. The wire fencing didn’t stop people from peering through an adjoining hotel’s windows, hosting impromptu Laneway parties in the foyer and dancing to the music echoing from the Park Stage. This is the drawing card of Laneway, or at least one of its key selling points. In bringing lesser-known international acts to our shores and staging them in the backstreets of multiple cities, St Jerome’s Laneway Festival meets the demands of a niche market who care about the music more than their
presence at a festival, any festival, taking photos and pills in equal measure. Listening to bands both home-grown and from overseas in the Basement or on the Reiby Stage afford fans a relative amount of intimacy that is difficult to achieve in most larger festivals. The informal nature of Laneway leaves its mark on the bands. Solid acts I saw included the impossibly tall Jack Ladder curling around his guitar and microphone, belting out soul-country croons; Yves Klein Blue, whose singer’s strangely British accent nonetheless had the crowd bouncing along; Canadian band Born Ruffians; and Kiwi favourites Cut Off Your Hands, who used the set to announce...
the depa guitarist Ramirez still deliv typically perform
arture of Mikey while vering a electric mance.
cut off your hands
A personal highlight was Port O’Brien’s outstanding show in The Basement; the cramped conditions worked in their favour as they riled up the crowd and had them singing along at deafening levels. Closing with their hit ‘I Woke Up Today’, the band invited members of Yves Klein Blue and Papa vs. Pretty onstage so they could flail around madly and add to the general noise of the show. Collaborating seemed to be a popular idea among the bands. Architecture in Helsinki were briefly joined by Greg Gillis of Girl Talk in order to sing a truly bizarre cover of what we could only identify as possibly being a Metallica song. Architecture’s unusual set of covers and revamped versions of their own songs left fans at a loss for how to respond. Later, Girl Talk continued the stage invasion theme when he took to his headlining slot at Reiby Stage and immediately filled the decks behind him with some very excitable ladies, including festival organisers. Given his reputation as a mash-up artist, Gillis’ set packed an effective party-starting punch, with smooth transitions between tracks that soon had the crowd cheering upon each recognisable sample and singing along with everything from Kelly Clarkson to AC/DC. Sadly, a council-imposed noise curfew meant that the night ended fairly early and we were summarily ejected from the venue. Half the crowd looked set to carry on, while the rest (myself included) shuffled home in tired contentment. I don’t know whether it had to do with the wildly varied audience that Girl Talk’s music drew, or the inevitable
flattening effect as St Jeromeâ€™s grows and reaches mainstream audiences, but the shift in the festivalâ€™s attendee demographic was remarkable.
The number of carefullygroomed indie hipsters is slowly shrinking when faced with the glossy ladies and buff lads who normally frequent electro, Modular-style events. I could be reading into things too deeply. Perhaps the absent hipsters were at Playground Weekender, which was running at the same time. Or they might feel that Laneway no longer serves their interests and simply left for more exclusive pastures.
ite ch ar
tract likely at ld u o w lining nt ance te specific head he d ll u B Red with and T that the mbined eacon It’s tr ue ival fiends, co 2008, Dan D demographic a st more fe ir l Talk and, in sed by such me’s Laneway o o G p r ( s Je s r t . acts in nge f St ar tis The da : the point o ase indie pop also . ) s t e s Pre cant owc s are n to sh e signifi al-goer shift ar as always bee electro festiv e no problem h e . av Festival te setting. If th reat. I also h am audience e g a r t ’s s is t im h t a in t a h in t an rm t to this, a wide ing ou t ted in interes ging bands to hat in reach ight lose sigh t in m r d r s b e e r e v e h c e is c it w su an ow ried h phic, the org helped them r d o n w a t s I’m fa gra hat big too e one r demo community t e o d o t a o s r b ts los row rassroo t, I may eway g of the g t place. If Lan instream even e backlash in a rs . Th in the fi yet another m appily attend. he organiser s t o h t r a ll in I’ in l t fo turns festivals ering momen eep their orig w fe of the s a sob m that and k rne wa o Melbou ey learned fr ference. h t e e r tu re I hop ht for fu ig s in goals
re tu ec
ki lsin he
born ruffians oxford art factory sydney, NSW 5th february, 2009
by roanna manlutac
see: 3rd April: The Kills (with Louis XIV) – Prince Bandroom, Melbourne
We’ll sure as hell be there, will you? 2nd, 9th & 16th May: Groovin the Moo Festival - Townsville, Maitland & Bendigo, Australia Australia’s most well-traveled festival, with a rotating roster of regional locations each year. Worth the trip out of the city. 22nd-23rd May: Yo! Gabba Gabba – Brisbane Convention Center, South Brisbane
No, we’re not kidding. Holy fucking shit.
Wavves - Wavvves
Various Artists - Dark Was the Night
The Pains of Being Pure at Heart - The Pains of Being Pure at Heart
And you call yourself a music fan. Pick up yourself a copy and learn. (and if possible, try and track down this edition; the American edition has been severely edited down.)
sidestage sidestage magazine ∙ issue #003∙ march 2009 ∙ sidestagezine.com watch your back.