"The show became a blur of bodies and deafening chants."
Tired Lion are a band on the rise. It's not new, it's not original, but Australia would not dare tell the quartet that they are doing something wrong. A balance between Veruca Salt and Bully with a dash of Kate Bush and The Jezabels' Hayley Mary.
Luca Brasi need no introduction - Tasmania is currently in a punk music boom thanks to them. It's bewildering to think that this quartet were supporting Bodyjar for small audiences a short time ago; but at this event they play like headliners. The growing population of Adelaide Entertainment Centre wanted all that the Tassie outfit could offer. Crowdsurfing, singalongs and shoulder-hoppers became so frequent it was almost an obligation to join in order to witness the quartet. Aeroplane was an anthem of a performance, and their momentum does not appear to be faltering anytime soon.
"Wassup motherfuckers?" — a perfect introduction from vocalist Matt Caughthran. California's The Bronx are in the nation and we are better for it. If they were discouraged by the 'support' status or some of the youths in attendance being unaware of the legendary outfit then it didn't not hamper the band, just encouraged them. The five-piece had a point to make and - safe as houses - they drove it home. Heart Attack American, Shitty Future, The Unholy Hand, White Guilt and Knifeman were of hymn-like status and if this party needed provocation, it had now been delivered. Caughthran was livid, bouncing as if he was testing the buoyancy of a Reebok sponsorship, and the rest of the band performed as if their lives depended on it. The Bronx truly shine when they can be in amongst an audience, not just observed by them.
Arguably, there is probably no better Cinderella story in Australian grunge than Brisbane's Violent Soho. ARIA success, Gold records and global adoration for four boys from Mansfield, it honestly has to be seen to be believed — and Adelaide turned up to do so; a near-capacity Entertainment Centre greeted the Queenslanders. With easily the most immense stage production the four-piece have utilised and an irate stage attitude, the show became a blur of bodies and deafening chants. Jesus Stole My Girlfriend, Like Soda, So Sentimental, Saramona Said, Viceroy, No Shade and Covered In Chrome were simply mammoth, which is surprising considering their bleak lyrical orientation. The passion is still very evident among the quartet, with windmill hair from Luke Henery and James Tidswell becoming almost dizzying for observers. Of course, the true star of the show is vocalist/guitarist Luke Boerdam, who could be a long lost Gallagher brother.
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There was to be no encore and truthfully it was not necessary. It would seem Violent Soho, unlike the title of their album, DO belong here. Many congratulations on that deserved achievement.