Live Review: Soundwave Festival, Day Two

23 February 2015 | 2:57 pm |

Steel Panther don't disappoint while Ministry are a masterstroke on Soundwave Day Two.

Beep. BeEP. BEEP. Hit snooze. Beep. BeEP. BEEP. Hit snooze. Beep. BeEP. BEEP. Why's the alarm going off on a Sunday? And Soundwave was yesterday. But this year it's over two days! Ugh, why did we go out after the festival? Hit snooze. Beep. BeEP. Get up! There's more great music to explore. 

For a lot of punters Soundwave Day Two is a later start and it does feel a bit Groundhog Day heading into Melbourne Showgrounds for the second day running as we shuffle toward Stage 2. Gerard Way's platinum blond at the moment, although many lookalikes in the crowd still favour his fire-engine red period and choose that hue to imitate. Looking decidedly dapper in a burgundy shirt and black blazer combo, offset with dazzling magenta tie, Way is a consistent performer who always incorporates important messages of tolerance into his between-song banter. A true artiste. 

Opening with PussywhippedSteel Panther own Stage 1. And of course axe maestro Satchel's aqua leopard print axe matches his spandex pants. Lots of front row females are already down to their bras and one brandishes a banner that reads, "Cum on my face, Michael Starr". The rules are set early on when Satchel calls out a chick on shoulders for only exposing underboob. "If you're gonna sit there on your dad's shoulders..." (much laughter within the crowd). She fully exposes her boobs. A latecomer barges through the crowd, lying, "Sorry! Sorry!" until those already in place cut her pushing-in short. Lots of willing skanks clamber up on stage, only some of which are prepared to get their baps out. Meanwhile, the rude space invader from earlier has clambered onto her mate's shoulders, has her tits out and is madly waving her arms about trying to attract attention. Almost an entire song passes before she packs her goods away, returns to earth (shattered) and then weaves her way back out through the crowd. The band take it down a notch for Girl From Oklahoma in order to, they say, make the ladies even wetter. And with lyrics such as, "Hair on your nipples/Zits on your box..." it's probably more likely that our cheeks are wet from crying with laughter. When Starr calls for, "Glory holes in the air," a lot of dudes need both hands. Wow, those must be some well-hung punters! The unaccompanied crowd sing-along for Community Property does Melbourne proud. Starr and Satchel hold up fans so bassist Lexxi Foxx can "hair solo". Steel Panther never disappoint and bring fresh comedic material with every visit. 

Over to Stage 4 – a definitive winner in terms of access, sound quality and volume, and general drinkin’-a-beer-while-watchin’-a-band ability – to catch thrash gods Fear Factory. Through the sheer force of it it’s impossible to separate drum sound from guitars. Powershifter from 2010 album Mechanize gets fuckin’ fast, with the drum-guitar madness mimicking machinegun fire. But Edgecrusher from 1998’s Obsolete, like so many throwbacks to the old-days played today, elicits the most vulgar displays of crowd power.

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When your band’s rollcall reads like a late-‘90s/early-‘00s prog/hardcore wet dream, as does Antemasque’s, you set expectations pretty damn high. In The Lurch is an early taste of the best this band can deliver – mostly because it wouldn’t sound out of place on an early Mars Volta album. But, almost unbelievably given the songwriting chops of Omar Alfredo Rodríguez-López, they lack the songs to hold together a one-hour set on a big stage, and meander into prog foolery. One for a sweaty club rather than Stage 2.

We return to Stage 4 and Ministry waste no time descending into an industrial future hell that’s viewed from some past nightmare. Too much of the first 40 minutes is filled with newer material, which is fine because Ministry have never strayed too far from their chosen path. But closing the set with a 20-minute apocalypse incorporating NWO and Just One Fix from 1992’s epic Psalm 69; and deliverer of the most ferocious pit of the day, Thieves from 1989’s The Mind Is A Terrible Thing To Taste, is a masterstroke of the highest (new world) order.

The volume on Stage 2 is down so low you can barely hear Soundgarden from 30 metres away. Through conversations, barely audible-but-perfectly rendered versions of Spoonman, Outshined, Kickstand, Rusty Cage, My Wave, The Day I Tried To Live etc (notably, all from third and fourth albums Badmotorfinger and Superunknown) waft in the late-arvo sun. It’s Fell On Black Days that kills it, but so much is already lost on the breeze.

Changing sides from Stage 2 to Stage 1, there’s time for high-fives with a dude who has crafted his own ridiculously oversized Soundwave hat that’s plastered with what resembles fliers of bands on this year’s bill (our palms are still smarting from the power behind his slaps). A mum is also witnessed reading a book in the grandstand and we later wish we’d taken a squiz at its title.     

Faith No More deliver. Arriving onstage in surgical garb, they take the audience on a musical journey through their freakishly good back catalogue. They don’t flinch from weird and wonderful, ripping out a blistering Caffeine early, and incorporating the ‘hits’ – Epic, Easy, Evidence etc – in a set punctuated by ferocious bursts. Cuckoo For Caca, Ricochet, King For A Day and From Out Of Nowhere (from The Real Thing) are all highlights. Sure, they blow it with the new song but it’s awesome to witness a band embracing their past. Gurners straddle the fence separating bar from GA and one reveller’s enthusiasm sees him tumble down to the space between. He clambers back up, unharmed, but ‘mystery bruises’ are bound to surface. The lack of volume continues to detract from these amazing nostalgia sets, but the quality of performance is pretty damn special.

From a punter’s point of view, returning to Soundwave’s Melbourne spiritual home of the Showgrounds is superb. What format Soundwave 2016 will take is unclear, but the overall audience satisfaction this time ‘round mounts a strong case for the healthy future of this festival. It always has been, and remains, one for true music devotees. Bring it on.