Live Review: The Bronx, High Tension, Freak Wave - 17 Russell

Believing we're arriving in time for the always excellent High Tension, cue confusion when a pack of dudes hit the stage. Our answer appears on 170's wall, where set times have been printed out for display: Freak Wave are up first. Self-described (on their Facey) as a “semi professional stunt band”, they're not good enough yet for it to not be annoying that they're so loud it's impossible to chat.
High Tension, on the other hand – where to start? Obviously with their captivating frontdemon Karina Utomo who looks like an angel, but sings like the devil inhabits her vocal cords (plus, her hair's so long at the moment that she conjures flashbacks of Sadako, the well-dwelling spirit from The Ring). Guitarist Ash Pegram, from Utomo's previous band Young & Restless, and The Nation Blue's bassist Matt Weston and drummer Dan McKay round out High Tension's line-up and lock into rhythms that wrench all eyes and ears stageward. Utomo constantly spits on the stage and screeches, “JOIN THE PARTY!” in a way that makes it sound like a terrifying prospect. The Bronx frontman Matt Caughthran watches with interest from sidestage, nodding vigorously to the beat. High Tension are international-ready, and in Utomo we have our very own Karen O, but on the heavier side of the spectrum.  
The Bronx are not here to fuck spiders. Brad Magers' chugging bass drives False Alarm and the band's overall sound is brutal. Caughthran definitely does a reccie before each gig to work out the potential for crowd interaction and just how many climbing areas there are in each venue. The nuggety, Angry Anderson-type refers to Melbourne as “the thinking man's capital of Australia” in comparison to Brisvegas (where The Bronx kicked off this tour). He also dedicates a song to “all the dicks in the house”, as opposed to women who he admits usually get this honour.
How can you not cheer on a bunch of dudes who are so obviously in awe of each other's abilities and clearly don't take what they do for a crust for granted? “I need this as much as y'all fuckin' do,” insists Caughthran as he jumps into the thick of the circle pit clutching his mic. It's pretty cool watching Caughthran perform note-perfect while crowdsurfing and warding off the hands of punters who attempt to grab his nads. After Caughthran power-crowdsurfs from mixing desk to the stage in record time, in comes the blistering Ribcage, which boasts a notably more melodic chorus vocal. The Bronx definitely achieve what they set out to tonight, and this Tuesday night gig surpasses the energy of a Friday night blowout.