Live Review: Pony Face, Flyying Colours

We first heard the name Flyying Colours when they were described as a hot new Melbourne psych band on the Eight Miles High line-up. They weren't wrong. Lead guitarist and vocalist Brodie J Brümmer stands with his face covered by a curtain of hair, consumed by his performance. Not since Dead Meadow bassist Steve Kille has there been a psych musician with such erratic enthusiasm and mysterious appeal. With his deep, lush vocal atop the wave of sound, Flyying Colours deserve the success they have and will continue to reap. Brümmer's voice belies maturity beyond his seemingly youthful exterior (but who can really tell without seeing his face?). The sneak peek at the man behind the music comes at set's end, when Brümmer momentarily sweeps back his hair and whips out a camera, smiling and taking a photograph of the cheering, packed-out room.

Pony Face have built something bright and beautiful out of the fundaments of the psychedelic music scene. Venturing into post-punk, rock, pop, blues and landscape drone, their rising enthusiasm and sonic ubiquity see us on a journey where no song is ever quite the same. The show is sold out hours before it begins. People are front of stage, pushing, dancing and mainly making a point of being as close to these guys as possible while they play songs from their new album Hypnotised. Vocalist/guitarist Simon Bailey seems to mould the room to his voice, his harmonies with bass player Anth Dymke rolling effortlessly into their sound. Playing their self-described “gothic song”, drummer Kris Emond wipes himself off with his own shirt and shuns the drums to add a third guitar for the first half of the song. The underlying brooding of their sound resonates, and all are entranced. The ethereal guitar and eclectic basslines hook us in, but it's Bailey's voice that keeps our trance-like focus, particularly as he sings Hypnotised, repeating the line, “I love you so much/I love you so much”. Friends join them intermittently onstage, adding synth, guitars and female vocals to the wall of sound.

“You're all very, very quiet – COME ON!” jeers Bailey, filling a pause between songs. Ask and you shall receive: during their last number a random audience member climbs on stage. Calmly facing the crowd, he removes his shirt and stage dives headlong into their waiting arms. The band don't miss a beat, merely rolling on with the show. Hypnotised indeed.