Live Review: BIGSOUND Live 2013

We're accustomed now to basically half of the bands in Australia converging on Brisbane for the BIGSOUND Live extravaganza, and the 2013 instalment promises to be the best line-up yet. A heap of The Music's best scribes grabbed their lanyards and wristbands and scurried between the dozen Valley venues hosting the action, and here is a round-up of the highlights from the two nights (a more exhaustive wrap up can be found at theMusic.com.au).

Reviewers
Jann Angara, Steve Bell, Dan Condon, Benny Doyle, Samuel J Fell, Daniel Johnson, Mitch Knox, Madelaine Laing and Brendan Telford

WEDNESDAY

Opening up the Electric Playground stage to a packed-out crowd is Sydney's Bloods, a trio who are making power pop sound very cool again. They're so much fun even serious industry dudes are uncrossing their arms and cracking a smile, especially when their irresistibly bratty single This Town comes out in the middle of the set. The band confess to being nervous a couple of times during the set, but this just makes them more likeable, and they pull of every song like total pros.

Their stated penchant for leafy greens and general slacker ethos makes tonight's Dune Rats set feel like a Big Lebowski convention. You expect someone to be bumped into in the packed crowd and exclaim “hey, careful, man, there's a beverage here!” However, there's no discord here; the vintage pop melodies driving the band's surf rock really ties the room together. Sounding like The Ramones at their catchiest, Dune Rats show why they're one of Brisbane's hottest prospects when they have everyone in the front-of-house blitzkrieg bopping along for the duration of their set.

It's capacity at Bakery Lane to see perhaps the most intimate set that legendary UK singer-songwriter Billy Bragg will ever play in Brisbane, and he doesn't disappoint. He drops Handyman Blues and Sexuality early and then proceeds to play his 1983 debut album Life's A Riot With Spy Vs Spy in its entirety for its thirtieth birthday, finishing with the evergreen A New England. There's great songs, singalongs and anecdotes aplenty – everything we've come to expect from the Bard but in a tiny little car park. Sublime.

A packed, enthusiastic Bakery Lane welcomes the hotly touted Busby Marou to the stage, and the talented group reciprocate the energy with a buoyant rendition of the gradually uproarious Underlying Message. Indeed, the band's onstage antics and showmanship are a crucial part of making this a consistently engaging performance that effortlessly justifies the critical accolades the band have won to date.

Shifting away from the cute pop that introduced The Starry Field early this year, Mark Myers and his band of buddies deliver a set of cane torching alt.country that practically crackles in the muggy air of Ric's. Paul Kelly would certainly nod his approval. Myers keeps The Middle East vibes burning with storytelling that pulls no punches, while other players on the small stage rip out the stomp when it's called for and pull back during the rawer moments. And just in case you weren't certain the bearded one was a card-carrying Queenslander, he's rocking a XXXX muscle shirt. Gold.

Over at 633 Ann, Sydney seven-piece Little Bastard are laying down a raucous, righteous bastardised country groove, and the loved-up crowd are gleefully taken along for the ride, hootin' and hollerin' all the way.  This is high-octane, banjo-driven dancing music and the crowd get right into it, dragged along by the brilliant stage presence of this totally engaging band.

Not surprisingly, The Zoo is one of the queued venues for the evening and the mosh packs in even more for Findlay sisters Stonefield who play a show full of riffs, screeching and hair (but the flower smelling kind, not the whiskey and cigarette smelling ones). Vocalist Amy switches from wails to sweet high melodies while slapping the tambourine while lead Hannah kills her solos creating a Hendrix sound from her travel-sized weapon.

Former Powderfinger guitarist Darren Middleton has moved front and centre for his new project, and although the spectre of his previous band still looms large, Middleton proves to be a competent frontman in his own right. Previewing songs from his soon-to-be-released solo debut album Translations, Middleton is clearly relishing being onstage again after a two-and-a-half-year break and his infectious indie-rock tunes and the first-rate harmonies from his backing band should ensure these songs find an audience.  Treasure in the Dark and Let Go are among his strongest numbers, but it's the off-kilter Storms – which builds from a repetitive beat to a crescendo of effects and thrashing drums and back again – that's the real climax.

Alhambra might be quiet but The Peep Tempel sure as hell aren't – and that's a very good thing. They might not be the youngest or hottest band on the line-up, but they're aggressive, proficient, noisy and fucking awesome. Sure, they're mining pretty deeply from Mclusky and Future Of The Left territory, but since when has that been a bad thing? Particularly when they've definitely put their own stamp on it.  Sucked in if you missed them. 

Which King Gizzard &The Lizard Wizard will we get tonight? The seven-headed Melbourne beast has tried their hand at trashy garage rock, spaghetti Western instrumentals and chants about footy. Today the band is distinctly psychedelic, and the result is typically electrifying. The first incredibly elongated track has more than a passing resemblance to Thee Oh Sees at their most spun out. A weird country song in the middle of the set sounds like Devendra Banhart in the wasted South, whilst latest single 30 Past 7 is a spiritualised fuzz beast. Closing out with another psych jam, the dual drummers flailing, guitars and keys entwined, defying the timekeepers, King Gizzard reaffirm why they are one of the most exciting prospects on the continent.

Standing alone front and centre in her standard singlet/jeans uniform, a bookish looking Adalita plays us a sad song, He Wrote; however, her voice stays strong and true even when holding the longest of notes. She sings “it's over” and no one wants it to be. Ms Srsen plays off her own guitar backing track for old single Hot Air, but just in case anyone was doubting her rock queen status, she lets out a wailing solo on her polished blue axe to bring the song to its knees. When she finishes with Heavy Cut, one can't help but be gagging for her sophomore release.

Maybe if there's one word to describe Bad//Dreem's show at Ric's, it's definitely “soupy”. It is hot as FUCK in here, the moist air clinging right to your skin, and they've turned all the guitars up so loud it's hard to hear anything but a wall of noise. But that's okay, the band aren't really going for subtlety here tonight, their tracks sounding a lot more thrashy and hardcore than you'd expect from the downbeat rock of their records. Singles are still their strongest songs, but when they're all this strong that doesn't matter much, and everyone's singing along to Caroline by the end.

Maybe it is the eclectic nature that the snatch-grab live experience of the night brings, but the set from Robert Forster feels slightly pedestrian tonight. He is in a quietly jovial mood and the space of the Black Bear Lodge is conducive to his contemplative ruminations, yet the clientele and lack of intimacy don't allow the songs to gel. A real disappointment, yet as Forster plays on with understated grace, one that doesn't dent the man's reputation.

Double beats and red hot heat, flailing limbs, arms akimbo when not, guitars raped and pillaged, it'd be a melee if not for the instruments, sweat stains shirts as rock 'n' roll is given new life by Money For Rope; a second chance, a revival without anyone actually knowing that it needed resuscitating. They're almost unrecognisable without one of the six being in some sort of plaster cast, but it matters not when two drummers thump and grind in time with whatever the fuck is happening out the front, something you're not sure of but you're damn well sure that you dig it. They veer sharply into Doors territory with alarming regularity, but veer out just as often, enough to have you thinking they're on their own jag, and you'd be right – one of the best bands on the scene right now, make no mistake.

As soon as the pioneering Sydney based duo Spit Syndicate and DJ Joyride hit the stage, it's clear that their established following have specifically come to see them close off their evening. They mention their “love-hate relationship with the Valley” but it's all love here with hands raised and hi-fives being shared from stage to mosh. A fan appropriately gets up on shoulders briefly before security quickly swoops in, but the party continues through Amazing and Beauty In The Bricks.

Swampy punk rockers Gay Paris have been generating a fair amount of buzz lately; both with the word-of-mouth following The Last Good Party and the ugly noise emanating from their Marshalls – so they seem like a logical choice to close out the first day of BIGSOUND over at the Alhambra Lounge where the four-piece do not disappoint on either buzz front. With the swagger of sleaze rock and the explosive energy of volatile hardcore powering them they strut and jump across the stage for a set that is wild and over too soon.

Regurgitator bring things to a close on a local note over at Electric Playground, and not only is the place packed tight but the floor is bouncing quite alarmingly as the crowd shows its gratitude to the prodigal Brisbane heroes. They're rocking bizarre red jumpsuits and seem to be having a blast as they mix old chestnuts such as Everyday Formula and I Will Lick Your Asshole with newer cuts from brand new album Dirty Pop Fantasy. Dirty and fantastic indeed, with dollops of pop.

THURSDAY

The shimmering and occasionally driving electro pop of Sydney's Elizabeth Rose gets official proceedings started on Bakery Lane this evening. A gentleman controls the synths while Rose jumps around and generally injects plenty of energy to the gig, not quite coaxing the onlookers to follow suit, but certainly making for an engaging show. An alumni of last year's event, Rose's voice seems to be strengthening and those songs she's writing and playing sure aren't getting any worse.

Same time slot (early), same venue (Black Bear Lodge) as 2011 for Gossling, but this time she's returned with a backing band to give the full experience and show off all facets of her pop-smart songwriting. She sounds decent enough over the usual bar chatter, but the gorgeous songstress and her musical partners look fairly rigid on stage. In saying that, their legs could be kicking out all sorts of crazy moves and we'd be none the wiser; the venue is more bloated and cramped than Pete Doherty after he kicked the gear. Never has a stage been so close, yet seemed so far.

Over at Oh Hello for Major Leagues. It's so packed there's not much to see, even on tip toes. The band show a more energetic side in this set of sweetly cynical '90s pop, though true to form no one's overly chatty. Singer Anna Davidson's mid-set proclamation, “Brisbane, huh?”, kind of says it all. They end with a particularly strident version of single Endless Drain and the harder edged Feel, which apparently will be released on an EP soon.

At Ric's Born Lion are delivering a punch-drunk take of Percy Sledge's When A Man Loves A Woman. It's short-lived, though, and quickly the quartet burst into the meat and potatoes; from there on it's a shit-hot display of gutsy punk rock, no frills, just the way the style should be sent out. John Bowker is soon claiming he's in a kiln which results in a flurry of water spray, while drummer Dave Murphy continues the trend of shirtless skinsmen. The guys kick harder arse with every song until Bowker finishes it all off from the middle of the crowd while jagged riffs slice around him.

Taking over the Rev's Inthemix stage, Melbourne duo Willow Beats trade off male and female vocals across a set that spans the range of electronic music, from banging dubstep club anthems to chilled out jams where Kalyani Ellis' Björk-esque vocals really shine. The set's breadth of sound is truly impressive; Willow Beats manage to create a vibe equal parts the band you'd go out to the club to dance to, and the band that you'd spin alone in your home when you want to get your groove on to after a hard day of work. 

Montreal's Your Favorite Enemies know how to make an entrance, with guitarist Ben Lemelin playing his instrument with a bow as the stage lights come on.  The six-piece's atmospheric blend of post-punk, prog and rock goes down well, and singer Alex Foster has an impressive vocal range, at times reminiscent of Birds of Tokyo/Karnivool frontman Ian Kenny.  The band are clearly chuffed to be here, with Foster in a playful mood, thanking his dad “for telling my mum I'm still studying at university”.  Highlights include When Did We Lose Each Other, A View From Within and Kerosene.

Psychedelic spaghetti Western. Flying sweat and moustaches so bad they're good, chequered shirts and cowboy boots, but with a healthy dose of Rove Live to tone it down and make it real, appeal to the people, but fuck the people, those people don't know what's going on. If they did, then Twin Beasts (formerly the Toot Toot Toots) would be bigger than fucking Jesus in this country, or whomever you care to worship, and so it should be – this is music with stories, tales set to tune as rambunctious as your Grandma after a few sherries; you know it, Twin Beasts know it, so you should get the hell on board. This is real.

It's packed at Ric's for Sydney rock'n'roll quartet Bed Wettin' Bad Boys, their set ramshackle in the best possible way as they smash through a slew of songs from their debut album Ready For Boredom without a care in the world; cuts like Devotion, Sally and the excellent title track sounding excellent in the live realm. Their banter is slightly sardonic, but with awesome tunes like these in their arsenal they can say whatever they fucking like in between songs. Please return soon.

It's a vibrant explosion of colour and sound when The Griswolds do their jungle indie thing, complete with Christmas fairy lights and fluoro face paint. They play The Courtship Of Summer Preasley and as the drums pound with native intensity you wonder if Vampire Weekend even know they're getting usurped. Chance Waters smiles through a gap in the venue's dividing brickwork while the Sydneysiders move and shake and let the music coarse through their body. Their humbling and charming charisma is hard to deny, even for the cynics. An untitled new track off a forthcoming debut shows plenty of promise, too. Big things – expect them.

Bored Nothing's set definitely exhibits one of the highest dickhead-per-square-metre ratios of the festival, in a surprisingly empty room. Perhaps because of this, most of the songs fail to connect throughout the set; kind of hanging in the air, beautiful but useless. And they are good songs, with lyrics of mundane depression, scuzzy rock choruses and clean cut melodies that just can't seem to cut through. Fergus Miller looks uncomfortable, but gamely attempts semi-friendly banter while the crowd continue to chat amongst themselves.

The audience at the Tempo trebles in the few minutes before Calling All Cars take to the stage and the Melbourne three-piece don't disappoint, putting in an energetic set comprised largely of new material. Singer Haydn Ing puts in a particularly energetic performance, walking into the audience and back on the stage while playing, without missing a note, while drummer James Ing and bassist Adam Montgomery are as tight as ever. New single Werewolves gets a rousing response, as does the aptly named Raise The People.  Although they already have a decent following, they're bound to have earned a slew of new fans tonight.

Technical troubles threaten to push Mitzi's slot completely off the bill, but luckily 15 minutes after scheduled start time and our West End heroes are getting straight down to business. They quickly take us under the sea with their deep disco, and the sonar-like signals that pop out suit the feminine tones of frontman Dominiqe Bird completely. He has charisma by the truckload – from the way he clutches the mic to his shuffle cut dance moves when the guitar is strapped on – and overall things are groovy with a little oomph. DFA on Red Bull perhaps. All I Heard goes down with ease, while a cover of Fatboy Slim's Praise You is inspired.

Over at the Press Club, Melbourne four-piece The Demon Parade come on like a groovy as hell retro flashback. Channeling the tight harmonies the early '60s Beatles and the freewheeling sense of fun of the late-'60s Beatles' lysergic jams, The Demon Parade balance being a throwback act with one that also pays homage to modern bands like The Brian Jonestown Massacre and Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. They kick out guitar-heavy jams for the duration of their set and are a treat for the crowd assembled in front of the stage.  

The sound for locals Tigertown is lush and dramatic, but they deftly manage to keep it completely in control. After a couple of songs their latest singe What You Came Here For comes out, and the band and the audience both loosen up and hit their stride. It's this energy that elevates this set about the usual harmony driven folk-pop fare. In the middle of a particularly rousing chorus two dudes in the audience pull out drums and start beating them along with the song, taking the idea of auxiliary percussion to a whole new level.

Despite the relatively small confines of Bakery Lane, the more than 20 members of Melbourne Ska Orchestra manage to squeeze themselves onto the stage and while their brass-heavy wall of sound on record, it's even more impressive live.  Lygon St Meltdown immediately gets the crowd skanking and the more subdued The Best Things In Life Are Free sounds near album-perfect.  Frontman Nicky Bomba has the audience in the palm of his hand, telling everyone “to turn around and count to four, then turn around and dance like you've never danced before,” before slowing things down with set closer Katoomba

Jeremy Neale opens proceedings by calling everyone in attendance a legend (he's just that kinda guy), then going on to open on his great tune Winter Was The Time. His band is sounding great right now, the addition of keys working very nicely indeed at filling out the sound. He drops a few new songs which are great, of course, but you can't go past the hit parade that ends the set; Darlin' (featuring a seriously impressive Rainbow Chan on sax), A Love Affair To Keep You There and the wonderful Go Violets collaboration In Stranger Times.

In front of a blur of strobe lights, Brisbane three-piece Aerials close out BIGSOUND over at the Tempo Hotel. Taking cues from Muse, minus the massive stadium rock pomposity, the rock'n'roll outfit marries big choruses with lashings of modulated guitar and enough stomping riffs to make the average punter think that they're caught in a stampede. The crowd might be thin, but Aerials deliver a set with a potent mix of power and passion. It's no wonder they're headlining the stage.