Parkway DriveIt's round three for The Tivoli tonight, and if a quick glance at some commentary and social media pics are anything to go by, the grand old lady took a beating during previous nights for this evening's headliners. I mean, airborne rubber duckies WITH punters riding on board? Righty-o. It's also a push and shove kind of affair to get any decent sort of spot as more than the usual share of diehards have come out early to stake a claim.
If the majority of folk are here to catch tonight's top billing act then they're more than happy to welcome Sydney five-piece Polaris under The Tivoli eaves. They're a solid pick to open festivities - a bunch of young guns with plenty of ferocity and razor-sharp skills; it's like seeing Parkway Drive starting out on the scene more than a decade ago. They whip through firm favourites Lucid, Regress and The Remedy with precision and nous that belies their years and humble output.
While a few step out to cool down and light-up outside, the sweaty remnant sing away to nu-metal anthems, start a Mexican wave and chant for Parkway Drive. System Of A Down's Chop Suey! is more than perfect to unite the crowd before Winston McCall and co stomp on stage, and the response is deafening and quieting at the same time; to hear so many people sharing such an intense love for a band is palpable and an addictive pleasure. Anyone would think their third consecutive sold-out show would be the most sedate of all, given it's Monday night - not so, seemingly, once the opening chugs of Begin, um, begin. McCall gives the thumbs up after The Siren's Song creates all sorts of chaos in the pit, quipping "a sauna is a sauna at any temperature". Celebrating a decade of their acclaimed second album Horizons means punters can guess what's coming up as every song closes, which only serves to inflate high spirits even more. There's also an amazing light show beneath the breakdowns and double-kick fury of Carrion, Five Months and Boneyards.
By this time it's hot, stifling and damp, but when McCall commands the pit to "spin it", it spins. He winds it tighter during Idols And Anchors before the crowd show their appreciation for Luke Kilpatrick's dizzying digit dance up his guitar neck with a sea of magic shred fingers. The frontman needn't rely on tricks to keep the audience energy levels up with promises of "our heaviest song on the album to keep things going" - the energy levels are pretty up from where we're standing - but the heaving mass is all too eager to submit for the utterly brutal Dead Man's Chest, with Frostbite and Horizons hot on its tail to close the set.
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A rest might have done some crowd members good, but in no time at all and with much stamping and yelling the boys are back to dole out a belting rendition of Crushed then Bottom Feeder, during which shoes, shirts and bodies go flying through the air. McCall looks buggered, but it's obvious this last night in Brisbane has him keen to see where the next decade leads the once-upon-a-time Byron Bay misfits.
