The xx at The Metro Theatre, Sydney

The XX returned to Australia last week and treated those lucky enough to snap up a ticket to a performance at the Metro theatre in Sydney. Support act, Flume started the show and, despite having quite a bit of airplay and gaining popularity with awesome mixes of Hilltop Hoods and Ta-Ku, did not seem to draw in a crowd, as people seemed unable to tear themselves away from the lure of vodka Red Bulls at the foyer bar.

The headlining trio, Romy Madley-Croft, Oliver Sim and Jamie Smith, took to stage (twenty minutes late) in a haze of smoke, and began the set with Angels, the first single from the soon-to-be-released album, Coexist. Usually I generally dislike bands showcasing new material at gigs, due to unfamiliarity, but Angels, despite only being released to the world a fortnight ago, still had the majority of the audience joining in and singing the chorus. The band took songs from their solid self-titled debut which excited fans, including Heart Skipped a Beat and Basic Space. These slower-paced numbers were pleasing singalong tunes, but the faster, more textural, pulsating tracks induced more of a reaction. Midway through the set the band played new material from the forthcoming album, this instrumental number had a club dance-floor vibe and seemed as though it were influenced by the steel-drum driven Far Nearer taken from Jamie’s solo album. It was an attack on the senses, blasting beats and smoke machines, with lazer beams scattering over the crowd as a projected psychedelic visual danced across the screen and spilled onto the band as they worked harmoniously to make the sounds. Another standout track was Infinity, a duet that reeked of passion and sex, with the transition of each singer, the pace fastened, the lights projected over the stage as Romy sang, “I can’t give it up to someone else’s touch” finishing with a climatic ending of blaring noise and light flooding the stage.

For an electronic driven outfit, the sensuality and the organic nature of the vocals of both Romy and Oliver is bound effortlessly with the precise drum machine beats and computer samples. Both strong vocalists project lyrics with delicacy and softness and often have a haunting effect that is woven through the tracks. But, they in no way overshadow the percussion and sounds created live on stage by Jamie, who makes clean, precise accompaniment with various computerised instruments.

I eagerly await the new album Coexist after hearing snippets at their gig. It is set to be released on 11 September.

Review by Carol Bowditch

1929Indian at The Toff in Melbourne

Ebe Cassidy checked out a very mysterious gig from 1929Indian:

Having arrived at the Toff on a chilly Wednesday night knowing very little about 1929Indian, I left the gig knowing very little more. Mystery was the word of the night. Support Poco la Pax played a set so early I couldn’t say for certain if anyone managed to catch it, they then proceeded to disappear. We arrived to a very nearly empty room, the disco lights twinkling softly over the quiet, tiny audience when gradually bits and pieces 80’s inspired electro pop group 1929Indian began to materialise onstage until all five members were ready to play a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it, six song set.

What recorded comes across as a jaunty, synth-driven sound with really fun nods to 80’s legends like The Cure, live was a somewhat more melancholy experience. Perhaps lacking enthusiasm due to the modest size of the audience - or could it have been the unfamiliar Melbourne chill, 1929Indian's lacklustre set conveyed less about their musical ability and more their desire to be somewhere else (notable exception: a cheerfully smiling keyboardist).

What 1929Indian may have - on this particular night - lacked in eagerness to perform, they certainly made up for in looking the part, all came dressed to impress in dangerously tight denim and a fitting air of dankness. It wasn’t solid moodiness though, Women In Cages, the lead single, proved to be an enjoyable moment, hinting at what the band can do when they… lighten up a bit?

Review by Ebe Cassidy

Band of Horses - Mirage Rock first listen

We were lucky enough to be invited along to the Sony offices yesterday to have a listen to the upcoming album by Band of Horses.

Mirage Rock is their first to be produced by Glyn Johns, who was recently inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and who has worked with the likes of The Beatles, The Who, Bob Dylan, The Clash, Eric Clapton, Led Zeppelin, Rod Stewart and The Rolling Stones. The record was recorded at Sunset Sound studio in LA and follows their third album, 2010's Infinite Arms

On first listen, this fourth offering seems, in places, a little more urgent, insistent and less ethereal than what you're used to. Brilliantly rocky lead single, Knock Knock - which you might have heard on your radio of late - is a decent yardstick for this. Mirage Rock isn't a massive departure though, How To Live sounds very much like, well, Band of Horses, with its heartfelt lyrics, "I really don't have to suffer, I still do it anyway/I'm a diamond in the rough or I'm a dirt clod in the clay/Guess what? I lost my job, it's just my luck." There are lots of nice country elements too, while the whole thing wraps up with some beautiful strings on Everything's Gonna Be Undone

We're looking forward to getting to know the record better. It's due for release in September. You can pre-order it now via iTunes.

Japandroids - Celebration Rock

Neil Martin chances upon one of the albums of the year so far. Maybe:

Teenage angst is overrated. Sometimes the best way to deal with the uncertainties of youth is to accept that your only option is to blaze through those wilderness years with the reckless abandon of someone who is either immortal or doomed to an early grave.  This is what Japandroids second album sounds like.

It opens with these lines: “Long lit up tonight and still drinking/Don't we have anything to live for/Well, of course we do, but until it comes true/We're drinking.” This pretty much sums up the eight tracks and 35 minutes that follow. Short, concise anthems to directionless youth. Songs about staying up all night, sordid sexual encounters, burning the candle at both ends and living without regret. So often these kinds of songs can sound contrived and up being too literary, a trap The Hold Steady often fall into. Japandroids have the urgency that suggests they are writing about their own lives rather than sounding like 30-somethings writing about some romanticised, mythological idea of urban disaffection and young adulthood.

Celebration Rock sounds great all messy, revving guitars that burst into life like the beginning of the greatest night on the town you ever had. Hooligan choruses of “woos” and “oh oh ohs” that bring to mind drunken bar singalongs at 1am. The band sound just that right kind of sloppy, the best kind of sloppy, on the edge of collapse but always just holding it together, like The Replacements at their best.  In fact this is probably the closest thing I have heard recently to that Mats sound. Most bands compared to them sound studied and academic but Japandroids and Celebration Rock capture some of that raw honesty that made The Mats so wonderful. This is absolutely a contender for album of the year but it may be that I burn out on it in a couple of months. Given the subject matter that would perhaps be only fitting.

Review by Neil Martin

Wavves at Hoxton Bar and Kitchen, London

Golden Lady hit London's East End to check out Wavves:

Raucous, loud, sweaty and punky. Wavves are everything you want in a modern day Californian punk rock band.

Friendlier than Fugazi, darker than their musical ancestors, Minor Threat, yet poppier than Jay Reatard, with whom they share former members, they are a fun, clever, scuzzy band who prove throughout the night to be full of healthy contradictions.

A messy start to what continues to feel like a pretty messy show is, nonetheless, engaging and enthralling, largely due to the raw performance of band members and those smart, hooky power punk songs recalling threads of early Nirvana.

Founder and singer of the band, Nathan Williams punches through each track with apparent pride that forgoes any of the nonchalance he assumes between songs. Laughing at his own jokes and complaining about broken strings and bad sound doesn't quite suit the atmosphere, nor the bands reputation. But this doesn't seem to bother the mostly ‘young dude’ crowd who are waiting patiently for the next moment of fuzzed out guitar wattage and noise-inducing disharmony, which preempts nearly every track in the set.

Things are definitely more engaging when the band are playing, pouncing and swallowing up the sonic space with their potent melodies.

Opener King of the Beach remains one of the highlights of the show - a perfect combination of surf, pop-punk and melodic glory. Other tracks Take on the World and Green Eyes are standouts, the latter, with its unaffected lyrics (“My own friends hate me/But I don't give a shit”) and vocal waverings, once again channelling Kurt Cobain. Super Soaker reminds me of Best Coast, or perhaps it’s the other way around, who’s to know?

There are songs in between that tumble into the next without much consideration, my attention wafts in and out, occasionally focusing on a stupendously drunk girl who seems intent on body surfing into a mostly well-behaved crowd. But then the band hit with one of those perfect skuzzed out moments and all is forgiven.

Bruises and all, Wavves are undoubtedly an exciting buzz of a band, reaching for something more than just post teenage tantrums and vague ambition.

Review by Golden Lady. See her own blog here. 

Photo borrowed with a loving kiss from our friends over at Rip It Up.

A Place to Bury Strangers - Worship

Golden Lady gives a listen to the sonic madness of A Place to Bury Strangers: 

There's undoubtedly a formula in creating a shoe gazer's soundtrack. It requires a healthy disregard for your audience, a distant love of Spector-ish pop and an orchestra of distortion and fuzz flattening anything in its path. It's chaotic and insensitive and when made honestly, can be earth-shatteringly beautiful.

A Place to Bury Strangers are indeed no strangers to this. Having toured alongside modern day pioneers, The Brian Jonestown Massacre, BRMC and their own musical heroes The Jesus and Mary Chain, APTBS have had time to focus and hone in on their sound. And in a day and age when bands feel the obligatory urge to switch and change sounds with the fashion, it's always a delight when artists stick to their guns, without so much as a contemplative doubt.

Lucky for this particular band, they capture the enormity of the genre brilliantly. There are moments of real sonic madness. Album opener, Alone, is the closest you'll get to a single, or a pop song, if you will. Dissolved starts off like a lost Interpol track and then moves back into familiar Jesus and Mary Chain territory. The album slides in and out of chaos and beauty. Rage and sadness. Closing track Slide, however, provides the most interesting sonic shift on the album. Edging into electronic territory and ever so fragile, it had me suddenly wishing more tracks had followed in its path. Hopefully an indicator of where they'll head next.

In the meantime, Worship is a claustrophobic, focused and deviant album. It will no doubt inspire those already worshipping at the alter of Shoegazing. However, unsurprisingly, most will find this a little difficult to swallow.

But I can guarantee that isn't in any way a focal point for A Place to Bury Strangers, instead they allow for the power and madness of their music to be appreciated by whomever is brave and open minded enough.

Review by Golden Lady

Usher - Looking 4 Myself

The latest offering from Usher gets Liana Gow-Killingbeck a bit hot under the collar: 

For his seventh studio album, Looking 4 Myself, Usher embarks on quite an adventure! Dabbling into a wider range of styles than with his previous records (undoubtedly due to working with quite a number of different and versatile artists), Usher has certainly fashioned an album which by all means showcases his eager experimentation, his self exploration, and of course, his downright im-freakin-pressive vocal abilities.

Though this album is quite lengthy (18 tracks, yikes), it is still pretty good fun. I myself have no shame in getting my party booty on to the delights of the RnB genre, and Usher has sorta been a guilty pleasure of mine since he won me over with Confessions in 2004 (I mean COME ON, you’ve got to admit Yeah is a top track to busta move to on the D-floor after a few shots).

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Where Do We Go Now?

From the creator of Caramel, this is a genuinely charming and inventive film which takes its audience through a spectrum of emotions. The story is thus: In an isolated village, a close-knit group of friends of Muslim and Christian women gather daily at the local cafe to share gossip and song. However, their community comes under threat from outside tensions. How do they stop their husbands and sons tearing their lives apart with a sectarian war?

Banding together, the women devise ingenious plans to distract their menfolk. The narrative is really funny, the characters utterly believable and the use of song is superb. The musical number about getting the men stoned is fantastic. What's more, the light tone of the majority of the movie gives all the more weight to the moments of heartbreak which punctuate proceedings like a bullet.

In the same way that the wonderful Life Is Beautiful did with the Holocaust, this film gives heart to a difficult subject-matter through laughter and levity. This certainly doesn't make it any less relevant than more heavyweight movies. Rather, Where Do We Go Now? is a compelling and touching tale of motherhood, family, religion, tolerance and community.

Review by Bobby Townsend

Missy Higgins at Her Majesty's Theatre, Melbourne

Jess O'Callaghan went to see the rebirth of Missy Higgins in Melbourne:

Going to any sort of comeback tour, no matter who the artist is, can be a little bit terrifying. As someone who gets attached to songs pretty fervently, even going to a tour where the artist has more than one lovable album can cause mild anxiety. Clearly some of your favourite songs aren’t going to make it onto the set list. And which ones will get cut? Terrifying.

Considering she has two very well known albums chock full of sing-along-able songs and a fanbase made ravenous by five years without a new release, Missy Higgins navigated the evening remarkably well.

On the 16th of June she performed at Her Majesty's Theatre in Melbourne, which was a far stretch from the first time I saw her perform with a piano and an acoustic guitar at the Tamworth Country Music Festival. For one, no one in the audience was wearing cowboy hats.

Another big difference was the band behind her - the cello/trumpet/everything player, the American drummer’s accent jokes, and Butterfly Boucher. Boucher blew everyone away as the opening Special Guest and then stayed on to play guitar and sing. She co-produced the recently released The Ol’ Razzle Dazzle album in Nashville with Brad Jones.

While the production of a Missy Higgins’ gig has become slicker and prettier, you still had the sense that you could have been sitting around with a group of friends, yelling ‘play one more!’ as the night grew older. While she didn’t try to hit every heckler's request (“Play Sound of White!” “That would be a downer right now”) she didn’t pointedly avoid them like some jerk artists with popular old songs do. Listening to Scar performed live is still immensely satisfying, and she knows it.

Then there are the songs on The Ol’ Razzle Dazzle which were just so much better live. The sounds and rhythms in Watering Hole went way over my head listening to the track, but hearing the commotion performed live made a lot more sense. Animal sounds and stomping and calling her brother, Dave, back on stage to make noises. Dave also made an appearance when the pair performed Cooling of the Embers, a beautiful song about their grandmother growing old.

The coverage of Higgins’ return to making music has focused on her ‘writer's block’. The struggle with the idea that she might never make music again. She spoke about it briefly and unavoidably before performing the beautiful Everyone’s Waiting on the piano.

I guess the sold-out shows and the excitement of the audience prove that everyone was waiting. At one point she even managed to convince us all to applaude with animal noises. Judging by the sound of Her Majesty’s Theatre filled with snorts, moos and neighs, they’re very glad she’s back.

Review by Jess O'Callaghan. Photo courtesy of the official Missy Higgins website.

Ned Collette + Wirewalker at FBi Social, Sydney

Having recently chatted to Ned Collette about his new album, Carol Bowditch braved the cold to check out his live show in Sydney, which was to promote the new album, Ned Collette + Wirewalker - 2

Nursing a chilli coma, the relaxed vibe of the loosely packed crowd was a welcoming environment for my ill self. It was the sort of gig where you could lounge on couches or park yourself cross-legged on the floor while sipping on something warming.

The support act, the Russian born, Berlin expat, Mary Ocher, took to the stage wearing a sparkly bra and sporting a messy peroxide blonde do. I wasn’t sure what to expect from the solo songstress from her eccentric appearance and her strange exclamation in her thick accent that the lights were "SO cool, they make me feel like I’m in a horror film.”

The vocals in her short tracks were aggressive, with unidentifiable lyrics yelped between staccato screams and whimpers. Ocher’s solo set was brave, although it was a little hard to fully enjoy and appreciate with my intestines burning.

A crowd emerged after Ocher’s set, ready and waiting for Ned Collette + Wirewalker to take over. Ned, looking schmick in an all-white ensemble started the set with one of my favourite tracks off the new album, Il Futuro Fantastico. It was a strong start, with pulsating keyboard samples, monotonous pacing vocals and gangly Spanish guitar.  The dreamy The Decision was heavy with keyboard chords and organic percussion sounds, with Ned’s reminiscent lyrics layered over the top. The only instrumental on the album, For Roberto, another standout track, was executed well live. The Spanish-infused tune blends these awkward, broken melody progressions on the synth, with acoustic chords and dextrous fingerpicking. Midway through the song there was an interlude and where Ned took time to sip his wine as eerie synth sounds filled the room. The band finished off with Long You Lie, with the tropical intro, and multiple vocals singing in harmony through the chorus.

The varied sounds of the set proved that Ned and his Wirewalkers could seamlessly blend genres and borrow from different countries’ music. The Spanish-tinged set had something distinctly organic and Australian about it, and with the members having come from their base in Berlin to play, it was a truly international affair.

Review and live picture by Carol Bowditch 

Missy Higgins - The Ol' Razzle Dazzle

Nicole Dora has a listen to the very long-awaited return of Missy Higgins: 

It was 2004 when Missy Higgins came along and became a permanent etching on the Australian culture scene. With her debut album The Sound Of White going platinum nine times over, everyone knew about the Melbourne based singer and her mix of light-hearted cynicism and beautifully tragic melodies/sonnets. Eight years after that first album and with a second long-player also under her belt, it seems that Missy is only just starting to get her groove back. With that second record kind of fading into the background, this third album - The Ol' Razzle Dazzle - is a reminder that the national icon is still alive and kicking (you can't blame me for saying that - The Sound of White is practically the soundtrack to the mid-noughties for the lives of many ladies and gentlemen all over Australia). Some call The Ol' Razzle Dazzle a foray into darkness and, while there are undertones of this through the album, at the same time it just sounds like someone who has lived life a little bit.

The first single, Unashamed Desire, shows us a hint of sinister intentions with the handy use of a cowbell, while songs If I'm Honest and Everyone's Waiting don't have the same conviction as previous tear jerkers like The Special Two, but you get the feeling that this album is trying not to get too concerned with the whimsy of unrequited love.

With ample time to let this album grow on me, I am still waiting for the funny feeling that I got from Higgins' first record - something that swayed from the heart-swelling to the stomach-dropping. This time round you can tell the direction is intending to move into new territory and it will be interesting to see what this cultivates and what path Missy goes down from here.

Review by Nicole Dora

Gonjasufi at Village Underground, London

Sydneysider Jemma Cole reviews her first ever London gig, and it almost brings her to tears:

Gonjasufi is a man that has fallen under many different categorisations, including ‘space hip hop’, ‘electro Hendrix’, ‘psych rock’, ‘nomad soul’ and the list goes on. As he comes out with new releases it merely exists as a testament to the rare nature of his eclecticism that generates the foundation of his music. This rapper/ DJ/ singer, as well as yoga instructor by day, goes by the name Sumach Ecks aka Sumach Valentine.

I have to admit, I was so excited at the fact that this San Diego-born man was playing two days after I landed in London that I may have cried a little bit. Fittingly, I arrived on the damp and grey ‘summer’ night in East London to a gothic, World War II bunker-esque venue called Village Underground, filled with a mix bag of hipsters and nerdy musos.

First up was Blue Daisy, a local producer who kept everyone entertained for the majority of his set as the large enclosure filled out to its brim to listen to his fusion of familiar and unheard world/post dub-step beats and samples he mixed together on his laptop.

The crowd at one o’clock in the morning was getting pretty anxious at this point for their headline act to get up on stage (playing times were pushed back by his extended sound-checks that left us out in the rain). Next thing we knew an intense looking dude came on stage sporting a gleaming bald head with a single plaited pigtail smack on the forehead centre (we later found out to be his manager but could equally be hailed as the mystic man’s possessed back-up dancer) and started playing a berserk dance track remixed with Indian organ samples whilst flailing around violently. A while after, Gonjasufi and his two backing DJs entered the stage and launched into Demonchild, with a mix of samples sounding half like he was being introduced into the ring and summoned by the gods, before his brilliantly distinctive smokey vocals cracked in: "My mumma said 'son look what the world’s coming to.'"

Overall the set comprised of songs from his latest LP, Muzzle, as well as his EP, Ninth, his critically acclaimed debut Sufi The Killer and some unheard new stuff, which seemed to be equally enthusiastically received by the bursting audience. One pinnacle moment in the set was when Kowboyz & Indians manically ripped through the speakers and the crowd were worked into a frenzy. The rest of the show was as erratic and bewitching, as Gonjasufi and his enigmatic manager took turns in convulsing like an exorcism was taking place. Another track from Sufi the Killer came at the end when Ecks made the last call out to the audience, asking them what they wanted to hear and he then unleashed into the spiritual stoner haze that is Sheep.

Review and photos by Jemma Cole

The Jezabels at The Hordern Pavilion, Sydney

When Bobbysix.com first chanced upon The Jezabels a few years ago, in tiny Sydney venues supporting The Wahas and Bridezilla, we always thought they were pretty good. We never dreamed though that, in 2012, they would be headlining the mammoth Hordern Pavilion. In fairness, neither did they.

If, during their seminal hometown gig, the band seemed a little distant, it wasn't down to a rock n roll persona or through being aloof but rather because they were completely overwhelmed by their surroundings. "This point in the set is when we are supposed to say something," singer Hayley Mary told the crowd. "But we're too fucking nervous."

Her nerves were unnecessary. She is a natural born frontwoman. With a vocal that is incredibly powerful and that transcends into Kate Bush territory on occasions, she is the focus of the entire crowd's attention and the rest of the band kinda fade into the background in comparison to her sparkling presence (remember the term Sleeperblokes?). That's not to take anything away from their compositions. These guys know how to craft a song that retains indie credentials while being fit for plenty of radio exposure. Set opener Endless Summer is a fine example of this, with its prominent guitar and massive vocal burst on the chorus.

Obviously, with the band not used to performing in such huge surroundings, they found it a little hard to command the entire, cavernous room, but they certainly connected with the keenest fans at the front of the venue, who blared back lyrics and clapped along as if their lives depended on it.

A success of a homecoming was rounded off with a well-earned two-song encore. Excitingly, this is a band that is clearly continuing to grow in stature. Pretty soon, they'll be eating these sized rooms for breakfast.

Review and shitty iPhone pic by Bobby Townsend.

Jack Colwell & The Owls at Goodgod Small Club, Sydney

There are two surefire ways of getting a good review. The first is to hand your reviewer, upon arrival at the venue, a personalised, signed hand-drawn picture of a unicorn. The second is for your gig to be really bloody excellent. Jack Colwell had both of these bases covered at Goodgod on Thursday night.

Having been classically-trained at Sydney's prestigious Conservatorium of Music, composer turned alternative pop-star Colwell launched his debut album on a horrible, cold, rainy night that signposted the start of the Australian winter. Despite the bitter conditions though, a healthy turnout witnessed Colwell and his band of talented Owls (not actual owls, unfortunately) deliver songs from this new record, Picture Window.

A fascinating frontman, Colwell dissects being flamboyant and gothic and is often a confrontational figure. If you can imagine Patrick Wolf having a fight with Nick Cave (go on, it's awesome), then you're in the right territory. Plus, this cat realllly knows his way around a keyboard. In a local live scene where, often, sloppy musicianship is all too readily accepted, it is refreshing to witness somebody who can play so well. His piano is like an extension of himself.

The show was equally intimate, powerful and intense and was tied together with the singer's distinctive vocal and his dark, "chamber folk" melodies. Whether dazzling on the piano or crawling through the audience bashing the shit out of a tambourine, Colwell was a mesmerising presence throughout and is unquestionably somebody worth keeping a very close eye on.

Words and photo by Bobby Townsend. Keep up to date with Jack Colwell on Facebook.

White Denim at HMV Forum, London

Golden Lady checks out the White Denim gig in London:

Hailing from the eponymous music capital, Austin, Texas, this now four-piece, blues-tinged, psych-rock band proceed to take the stage for what will surely be one of the more electrifying and musically expansive gigs one could hope to see this year.

Unlike some other recent overhyped and fussed over retro bands of late, White Denim have somehow managed to escape the overblown smoke machines, which has clearly worked in their favour. The crowd in the packed out HMV Forum appear to be solely there for the music, and you can tell. With sweaty palms and empty beer cups already floating about the room in anticipation, the band appear on the stage and break out into a full blown jam from their most recent album D, which will set the tone for the rest of the evening.

With definite moments of 1960’s guitar heroism, aka Hendrix, Cream, maybe even Jeff Beck, this feels like a modern day version with added streams of prog rock and straight up dirty blues. It’s difficult to escape the obvious comparisons to The Black Keys, however these guys are far less basic. Their clear disregard for simplicity and, dare I say it, radio friendly songs, make them a much more interesting and fascinating band to watch within the live arena.

Regularly deviating from the recorded versions of their songs, they delve into deep and intense instrumental cacophonies, which you can’t help but become completely transfixed by. And quite honestly, it's a fucking breath of fresh air to watch musicians who are clearly indebted to their musical heritage and form. Man, can they play!

It never tends to get over indulgent nor do they disregard the audience at any point.  Tracks Is and Is and Is and Shake, Shake, Shake get an especially great response, whilst other songs, like the country-tinged Keys, display what various shades and tints this band are capable of wearing.

My only criticism at all is that I found myself wishing that the production side of things were even remotely as electrifying as the band itself. Without any significant lighting or stage set up, nor communication from the band, I cant help but feel this is what might set this apart from any other exhilarating rock show filling out venues of this size right now.

That aside, White Denim are a wonderful band and this was a truly unforgettable gig.

Review by Golden Lady. Check out her own blog here.

Dreams of a Life

Do you ever stop to think about what will happen after you die? What kind of impact your death will have? How you will be remembered? Dreams of a Life, directed by Carol Morley, tells the story of someone who slipped through the cracks.

In 2003, the remains of Joyce Carol Vincent were found in her North London bedsit. Nothing unusual there, perhaps; people die alone all of the time. The strange thing about this was that she wasn't discovered until three years after she had died. Her skeleton was stretched out on the sofa, the television was still on and there were wrapped Christmas presents at her side. Joyce Vincent was not an old woman with no family. She was 38, had siblings, friends and ex-boyfriends. In that time, nobody had called round to see her, nobody had tried to track her down, even the electricity company hadn't shut her power off.  

Part documentary, part drama, part detective story, this intriguing film attempts to solve the mystery behind one young, beautiful, seemingly popular woman's lonely death. Carol Morley conducts interviews - which range from funny to heartbreaking - with friends, colleagues and lovers (traced through personal ads, posters and Internet sites) and uses dramatised sequences (featuring actor Zawe Ashton) to recreate the life of this glamorous and vivacious young woman. 

While Joyce Vincent died a lonely death, this touching, achingly sad film keeps her name and her memory alive and serves as a reminder to us all that, in this increasingly busy and fractured world, it is vital to remain close to the people you care about.

Review by Bobby Townsend. Dreams of a Life plays at the Sydney Film Festival on Weds morning the 13th June. If you are elsewhere, you can buy the DVD or order it on itunes. Visit the official site for links.

(Incidentally, while we're on the subject of the Sydney Film Fest, we've just noticed that one of our all-time faves is playing this year. Don't miss The Dreamers on Sunday 17th June).

Brian Jonestown Massacre and The Raveonettes at Oxford Art Factory, Sydney

Carol Bowditch was at the sold-out Raveonettes and Brian Jonestown Massacre show in Sydney: 

Having already sold out the Metro, this massive double headliner played a follow-up show to fans at OAF. The Raveonettes got the ball rolling. After starting with slower, acoustic ballads that helped ease themselves and the crowd into the set, as things progressed the songs became more daring and frenzied. Within the heavier tracks, however, the harmonic shared vocals were often lost and indistinguishable, hidden under dense layers of guitar fuzz that washed over the crowd. 

The duo remained effortlessly cool as they played songs back-to-back with little interaction with the audience. There was one moment however, where singer Sharin (pictured below), broke her restrained demeanour, flashing a cheeky smile to the punters. From this break of poise, you could tell that she could see that the crowd were obviously digging what was being created on stage. A climatic performance of Aly Walk With Me closed their show. The chainsaw-like guitar feedback was interspersed with seductive vocals, and a delicate chime noise sounded intermittently between the aggressive sounds created by Sharin as she mashed her palm against the fret board. It was just perfect. 

Brain Jonestown Massacre (pictured top and below) then took over to a heaving venue. The San Fran eight-piece, led by the notoriously surly Anton Newcombe, played a marathon two-hour set, playing a mix of old and new material. The crowd, sardined within the space, outstretched their limbs to catch the lights from the stage and make shapes to the shoegazey, blues infused sounds. They danced as the band churned out hits like the psychedelic rollercoaster of That Girl Suicide and the hypnotic Super-Sonic. Positioned far side-stage, Newcombe was constantly being upstaged by percussionist, the “tambourine man” Joel Gion, who exerted charisma and showmanship throughout the show to the delight of the crowd. His cocky stage presence really added to the rock n roll image of the band that we had coveted in the documentary Dig!. A surprising inclusion to the set was (David Bowie I Love You) Since I Was Six that had the crowd droning along to the down tempo rework. Anemone, usually sung by a female vocalist, worked fine with Anton's lead and was still delightfully fluid and full of attitude.

The Brian Jonestown Massacre’s set was long, obviously, due to the twenty or so album releases that they have under their belt.  There were times where the similar sounding tracks became tiresome, but I guess my expectations that they would play their 90’s releases like Take it From The Man, or Strung Out in Heaven in their entirety was never going to happen. The band took heavily from this year’s release Aufheben, which from lack of familiarly, didn’t resonate as strongly with me as the old favourites that they played. 

Overall, the two bands played the new material that they were here to tour well, both displaying the fine musicianship that they are known for. I’ll definitely need to take the time to give both new releases a proper listen. 

Review by Carol Bowditch. Photos by Carol Bowditch and Bobby Townsend.

The Walkmen - Heaven

Andy James has a listen to the latest outing from The Walkmen:

Formed over a decade ago from the ashes of indie outfit Jonathan Fire*Eater, New York five-piece The Walkmen's flame burns brighter than ever - and in Heaven, the follow up to 2010's Lisbon, they've released their finest record in years.

One part Dylan and one part Casablancas, frontman Hamilton Leithauser's trademark rasp is still at the fore, but much of the album is a world away from the blistering rawness that marked early material like 2004 breakthrough single The Rat.

From the beautifully stripped-back acoustic opener, We Can't Be Beat, to the rallying call of album closer The Love You Love, it's a near-masterpiece - the sound of a band hitting musical maturity while sounding more relevant than ever.

Fleet Foxes frontman Robin Pecknold lends his vocals to four of the songs, and the indie rock credentials are boosted further by Phil Ek (The Shins, Fleet Foxes, Band Of Horses) behind the recording desk.

If there's any divine justice, Heaven will secure The Walkmen a place at indie's very top table.

Review by Andy James.

Boy and Bear at The State Theatre, Sydney

Sophie Metcalfe reviewed and photographed Boy and Bear's gig in Sydney last week:

It has been a while since I’ve been to an all-ages gig. I think we can all agree that the all-ages plaque is usually an instant repellent for anyone who’s post teen. An environment involving small greasy things with underdeveloped limbs prodding our sides and screaming ‘I love you’ toward the stage. But, if there’s anybody thinking of enduring such a crowd – then The State Theatre is the place to be.
No wait - Boy and Bear at The State Theatre is the place to be.

It was great to be in an atmosphere where the excitement started from the opening song of the first act. Tin Sparrow began with their chai scented folk like a welcoming hug. Following this was Jungle Giants and although I usually switch off when any Vampire Weekendesque indie-rock comes my way – I actually caught myself bopping along somewhat pleased! By the time Boy and Bear came on, the excitable young things, the palatial setting and the man walking around selling candy and ice cream had seduced me. So no matter what went down I had already given this night a thumbs-up.

Opening with Rabbit Song – the boys quickly reminded us why we were all there. Grabbing our attention with flawless harmonies and a fluid light display, Boy and Bear had captured the attention of everyone in their hot little hands. One thing to be said in particular is that they have a great onstage presence. Engaging in banter that isn’t flawlessly witty, but rather a relaxed and goober-esque interchange between mates, it made you feel like you were in their garage drinking their dads' Coopers and just having your usual Sunday night session. They have a knack however, of going straight from having this grand old chinwag to slipping into a beautifully executed, intimate minor melody.

They glided through an impeccable set which was sprinkled with heckles from girls ranging from ‘marry me Dave’ to ‘I love you’ and there was even a sneaky ‘fuck me’. By the time the set got to Feeding Line, the girls were out of their seats and lining the walls of the theatre; everyone had fallen in love with
them all over again. There was an endearing little spiel about how they don’t like the idea of encores and then told us of their ‘mock-encore’, which involves pretending to leave the stage. Dave shoots one last heart melting glance to the audience, the girls scream a little more and then they play their ACTUAL last song.

Thank you Boy and Bear – for pulling a cynic out of her depths and giving her a truly fantastic, light-hearted night at the theatre.

Words and photographs by Sophie Metcalfe.

Chet Faker - Thinking In Textures

Victoria Gottschalk casts her ears upon Chet Faker's EP and feels a bit sexy:

Upon listening to Chet Faker’s Thinking In Textures, I felt a mixture of love, loss and sexual frustation. I realise that’s a strange combination but as a YouTube user put it, Chet Faker’s music is “baby making music”. Pure and simple, the fusion of electronica soul combined with personal tales of romance and tragedy just make you want to combat that bottle of tequila and do some seriously naughty things. But instead of regretting your actions in the morning, just press play on Thinking In Textures and you’ve instantly got a reasonable explanation for the person in your bed and the scratch-marks on their back.

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