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Live Review: Lowtide & Montero

With a spinning mirrorball above, spotlights trained on the ceiling, and dry ice thickening the air, the delicate textures and twining harmonies of Whale and Spring emphatically build and release.

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Montero are a band ready to release a blinder of an album. Singer Bjenny Montero's voice sounds richer and more expressive than ever. A tender, careful placement of words and space during the quieter sections seems to give the songs an epic quality that the music emphasises once it arrives. The band's tight fury and Montero's expressive vocals give yet another reason why they're going to own this town once the album drops. Out there doing their own thing, this dynamite collection of talent have a deft way with '70s schmaltz. As Bjenny himself says, signing off: “Awesome, awesome times”.

Looking around this sparsely populated room makes you want to kick Melbourne in the balls. With people exploding their brains trying to find ways to describe My Bloody Valentine's newest opus, and paying $100 to see their show, that Lowtide, one of the finest shoegaze bands on the planet, can barely attract 50 people at the end of a poorly attended residency is unfathomable. Sure, it's a Tuesday; and yes, they're not as well known, but it only takes seconds to realise this is a band who know exactly what they're doing.

Preferring to let foreign bloggers wax lyrical rather than court attention, the band turn in a flooring effort tonight and preview most of their forthcoming debut album. This will of course be completely brilliant, promoted by Gabriel Lewis mumbling through his copious fringe about obscure effects units and sell about ten copies (of which I'll own two), none of which will stop it being timeless genius. Singers Giles Simon and Lucy Buckeridge have never sounded stronger than tonight, and confidence and power is the overwhelming theme of their music. No longer slow and languid, many songs (such as Hey Rose and Blue Movie) are gut-lifting headlong rushes to somewhere beautiful, full of volume and certain of intent, like clinging to a bullet train. With a spinning mirrorball above, spotlights trained on the ceiling, and dry ice thickening the air, the delicate textures and twining harmonies of Whale and Spring emphatically build and release, while the older Underneath Tonight and No Horizon close the set with loose majesty.