Monday, November 12, 2007
The weekend in pictures.
|
Full report from the Sneaky Sound System and Patrick Wolf (THANK YOU JESS!) gigs later in the week. Until then, here are three select photo's from the aforementioned nights under a mirrorball which should keep you going.
Labels: Gig Reviews, Patrick Wolf, Sneaky Sound System
Monday, September 17, 2007
Konichiwa bitches from Sydney to Melbourne.
|
 Last night I finally got to see Robyn do her thing in the flesh. And boy was she electrifying.
Down she came with her band, consisting of a keyboard player, the super-good-looking drummer, and the seriously cool Kleerup.
Playing at the luscious and not-overly-hip-that-it's-pretentious Miss Libertines in Melbourne's CBD, the Swedester played a set comprising of 12 songs (even if my stolen copy of the on-stage set list claims there were 13,) kicking it off with Cobrastyle.
Punching her fists in the air and to her sides, tossing her silky white hair up and down, left to right, Robyn took control of the audiences attention the second she bat her eyelashes at them.
Incredible jolts of energy and ferocious stage presence shone through performances of Crash & Burn Girl, and the stomping electric-drum moment during Who's That Girl.
 Here come the drums.
One of my absolute knock-out Robyn favourites has always been Bum Like You, so I was pleasantly surprised and quite excited to hear and see it performed live. Stunning - and fiery - performances of Handle Me and Konichiwa Bitches ("Australia has been playing this song for ages, something I couldn't even get them to do in the UK, so thank you!") followed, with me hitting an absolute musical peak of epic proportions once Keep This Fire Burning began. I even got to share a moment of singing the chorus along with her as she sang it to me up the front. Lufffley!
Be Mine rocked, which was an obvious crowd favourite, but my highlight was most definitely hearing a ravishing live take on the Christian Falk track Robyn sung on, Dream On (musically, a really lush homage to Cosmic Baby/mid-90's rave) which is so lovely in its original form that you probably wont believe me when I say the live version was even better. But it was, honest. I was particularly impressed to see more than a couple of people actually knew the song in the audience too, which was a moment of self-assurance the gig hadn't just been filled with people whose history of her begins and ends with Konichiwa Bitches being played on the radio. Finally, time made way for a powerfully intense performance of With Every Heartbeat, which was entrancing to be apart of, especially seeing how the whole band got into the groove of it WITH Robyn.
After some claps and cheers, Robyn and her gang returned with a stunning, slow and melodic rendition of Show Me Love, which turned into quite the venue sing-a-long.
It all ended with Robyn's cover of the Prince classic Jack U Off, which was superb, funky, and a little bit punky; the perfect way to sign off.
The night delivered a lot of surprises. I had always expected Robyn to be incredible, but I wasn't prepared to be THAT blown away. Somehow, she managed to surpass the rather high expectations I'd placed on the gig before going. Now THAT'S a pop star!
Crowd was divine, and a complete polar opposite to the crowd the delightful Pop Trash Addicts experienced at Robyn's Sydney show on Friday (Roxane LeBrasse, the Thirsty Jerc and that gay guy from Scandal'us? WTF?) There was virtually none of that pretentious bullshit I had expected there to be, with a lot of beautiful faces around, but none of the sorts that think their shit don't stink BECAUSE they're beautiful. The small venue was mainly made up of genuine Robyn & pop music fans, Electro lovers and the casual Triple J listener. I think the under promotion of the Melbourne gig helped filter out the wanks too; probably a good thing the event was held on a Sunday night, too.
Also, I met some New Zealand fans who had flown down JUST to see Robyn play in Melbourne. Dedication. Turns out they were all hardcore pop fans too, as was another girl whom I had a serious conversation with right before the gig started discussing the merits Nicola Roberts brings to the world of music, and why Girls Aloud are monumental. Then I found out one of the Kiwi guys works for Universal NZ and spent two days in a van with the girls last year during their Aus/NZ promo tour. Bastard.
Had the pleasure (isn't it always my dear?) of bumping into the brilliance that is Jess Culture, and meeting Mr. eMackinations & Cade, along with other splendid pop fans who were not afraid to chat with strangers. Had a small chinwag with Kleerup at the bar. He loves Popjustice very, very much. Almost as much as he loves doing shots of whiskey apparently!
Just before Robyn made a swift exit, I caught her at the staircase near the loo and got a Modular person to take a photo of us together. A total set of four (!) European kisses and hugs were exchanged before she scurried down the side of the venue. She said she loved Oz and couldn't wait to come back again soon. Hopefully it won't be so long next time!
Oh and no, I'm not sure why Modular gave her the Kangaroos Football Club scarf to be honest. I mean, surely there was a Collingwood one in the same airport gift shop, but whatever.
Click on the photos to view bigger versions, and feel free to use the pics on your site if you wish to (all have been taken by me.) BUT please do credit me, my poor feet put up with a lot of standing around to secure that prime spot!
> Read Pop Trash Addict's ace review of the Sydney Gig.
> Read the fabulous Patrick from PopGoesCanberra's review of the same gig on the PJ forums.
> See eMack's YouTube vids of the Melbourne gig.
Labels: Gig Reviews
Saturday, August 11, 2007
From The Rubble To Ritz
|
 On Tuesday night I felt very, very old. It didn't help that I was at an all-ages Arctic Monkeys gig. What probably didn't help even more was that I was in the very front row of what would, 6 minutes into their set, turn into the most outrageous mosh-pit I'd ever encountered in my life. Surrounded by 16 to 18 year olds. Moshing. Pushing. Knocking me and others over. Did I mention there was pushing? Yeah, there was a lot of that. These bastards were distracting me from appreciating the greatest rock band of the 21st century at the fullest. Now, my problem with this lies with the fact that I'd been waiting outside Festival Hall, in the freezing cold, since 4pm. All in order to secure myself a front-of-stage position so I could stare at my darling Alex (click for bigger pics) whilst he sung to me. Within seconds of the Monkeys opening their set (ironically with "This House Is A Circus"), the temperature in the "mosh" area (which had been labeled "standing" area on my ticket thank you very much) rose from about 25 degrees Celsius to about 45. THIS IS NOT AN EXAGGERATION. As the second song began, I'd decided that the minute I could take a photo of Alex on stage up close, I'd grab my bag from the barricade and push my way out of the prime spot I'd secured. There was no point. I couldn't breathe. I was thirsty. There was a thick stench of beer, teenage sweat and alarmingly sharp body odor mixed with the cheap, locker-room sprays of Lynx lingering through the air. Whilst this all may sound like the setting of some delicious erotic fantasy, delicious; it was not. Erotic; it was not. And most definitely sexy; it was not. Sexy? No, No, No. On top of all that, my attempts at reaching for my camera were doomed. The second I'd placed my hand in my pocket to pull it out (the camera folks), I realised that the very second i took the photo-maker out of my pocket, I'd never see it again. It was all pretty upsetting and I reluctantly grabbed my backpack and began to push my way through to the back of the hall. On my travels, a young girl who'd noticed me leaving latched her arms around my waist and begged my kind self to take her with me; her face was pale and she looked like she was seconds away from death. The poor thing. So I allowed this random stranger (and three of her friends) to latch onto me in a conga-line fashion whilst I charged my way through a sea of fucking idiots.
The further I walked away from the front, the older people got. By the time we'd reached the bar, I was actually spotting people my own age. Some of them were even older! It was like I'd just undergone some sort of biblical revelation; I can only put this down to the fact that I was seconds away from hyperventilating and was suffering from serious dehydration. I got a bottle of water into my hands. Started to drink it. Picture me shaking so much because of how drained I was after my crowd-related, life draining incident. I couldn't believe it; I then spent about 20 minutes trying to calm myself down and barely paid the amount of attention I should have to the set. I sang along to songs, but if you asked me what songs they played during that 20 minutes I'd have no fucking clue.
I eventually found a spot near the side which allowed me to enjoy the remains of the show. I ended up with no on-stage shots, which I was a little disappointed about. But I was more upset about having to leave my well-earnt position up front. Seriously though,the mere thought of trying to last another 6 minutes in those conditions probably would have brought on a heart attack.
The show was great. I may have spent 20 minutes in my own little water-sipping world but the last 55 were probably the best 55 I've spent at a concert in ages. The boys were phenomenal and Alex gave the crowd a few gorgeous monologues in between songs here and there. No surprise covers or anything either; it was all strictly Arctic tracks. BUT then again, they could very well have sung "Biology" during that 20 minute time frame and I wouldn't be able to confirm it. I would like to add, in regards to my surroundings, that Festival Hall is by far the very WORST live music venue in Melbourne and its demolition is LONG overdue. The only seated areas in an Indie-type of show are so far to the sides of the stage that it just isn't worth the money you pay. If you're going to shove people who've paid the same amount of cash as those up the front, at least provide them with large screens to view the show. But nope, not a single screen in sight, just a glimmer of a couple of tiny bodies playing some instruments.
So the show ended and I was determined to at least try and get one of my CD's signed. Out in the cold again, I stood for up to 3 hours (which explains the horrible, horrible flu I have right now) with a bunch of kids aged between 15 and 18. They were talking about assignments they had due the following day, and some were discussing the exams they had coming up. It only made me feel older. I was--once again--the only person there over the age of 18. And I'm quite a few years departed from 18. Anyway, after a pizza delivery guy dropped off 8 boxes of pizza, a bus-boy delivered two bins filled with ice and bottles of beer, Alex and the boys eventually emerged from the side doors of Festival Hall. Jamie waved but joined the others swiftly into the van. Alex began to walk towards us, completely wasted with a glassy look in his eyes; it was bloody adorable. He signed my CD and agreed to a photo. He then signed across the line and allowed me to take a few extra random shots along the way (I am still quite confused that I was the only person out of 20 waiting who had bothered to bring a camera). Just as he was leaving, he walked back over to me, looked at my Girls Aloud t-shirt and said: "That's a crackin' t-shirt my friend!" He then followed it with a wink, smiled, and then turned back around, waving goodbye to the crowd as he walked over to the van.
And that is how My favourite worst nightmare turned into the greatest night of my life.
 Labels: Arctic Monkeys, Gig Reviews, Girls Aloud
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
It's 2 bloody AM and I have work in the morning...
|
...however, I still felt I should quickly pop on here before going to bed. A small post to notify you all I have just walked in the door from tonights Arctic Monkeys gig in Melbourne. There's a lot to tell; the night was a bit of a disaster (nothing to do with the Monkeys, everything to do with the crowd) but I'll fill you in on why sometime tomorrow. In the meantime, here's a photo which marks the very point my night totally turned itself around. Click for a bigger shot 'aight.
Wait till you hear what he had to say about my Girls Aloud t-shirt!
UPDATE: Am really fucking ill, so don't expect a proper report till the weekend. I put it down to the hours spent outside in the freezing cold waiting for Alex to make an outdoor appearance. Was the mother of all flu's worth it? Fucking oath.
Labels: Arctic Monkeys, Gig Reviews, Girls Aloud
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Future Music Festival 2007
|
 Out of place and off their face. If I never see a girl (or, for that matter, a guy) with fanta-orange tanned skin for the rest of my life, I will die a happy man. I was sent just over a week ago through work to review Future Entertainment's Future Music Festival, a day-time dance party held at the Sidney Myer Music Bowl. To say I was absolutely swimming through a sea of orange would be an understatement. I was actually surprised to find there were no fake-tanning booths set up as market stalls to be honest. I guess the organisers knew no one would be on the dancefloor if such a thing had been implemented.
The crowd were... um, unbelievable. Unbelievable in the sense that I never knew that many self-obsessed gimps could actually co-exist - let alone were able to congregate - in the one large concert space. It was like partying with wild, untamed zoo animals half the time. A total of zero people were apologetic when bumping into me, people stood on mine (and others) toes - and in place of an apology, one actually said "watch where you're going". Unfuckingbelievable. Had I not been completely out of it on Mercyndol Forte for my agonising migraine, I would have headbutted the cunt. In lines for the toilets people were abusive to poor random others just waiting to hang a piss. In lines for food, general manners in saying "please" and "Thank you" before and after the order was placed went out the window, in place of grunts and vacant stares. A friend of mine managed to witness an entire garbage rolley-bin being THROWN/PUNCHED into the face of an unsuspecting male near the toilets. Next thing we know, there's a stretcher and an ambulance cutting through the market stalls.
The complete rudeness continued in front of the stages. One girl, whilst I had been up the front for hours waiting for Princess Superstar (pictured, top right) to begin, came up and pushed her way into a position next to me. Her giant handbag, more than likely filled with 78 kilograms of lip gloss, was so heavy that it knocked my feet off my floor space at the front and had squished me up the point I thought I was going to fall flat on my back. She then stood NEXT to the bag, and darted a look at me as if to say "I really don't care that I'm pushing in". After asking her politely if she could move her bag, she filthily glanced at me, lifted her foot and moved the bag about a millimetre away from me. Now, I'm a large guy. Her minuscule movement of the handbag did fuck all for my feet, let alone my body size, and she very well knew this was the case. There was no fucking way I was to let this $2 Crack whore who was quite obviously coked up to her eyeballs thrash me around. I don't care how much you're enjoying your high, if you insist on being an absolute cock-muncher than I'm going to say something. Her filthy glance was quite swiftly thrown out the door when I then returned her gaze and - quite calmly - told her to put her bag in front of her own fucking feet or it'd be thrown into the audience behind us. She then grabbed her bag and moved a good half a metre away. That'll fucking teach her.
As for the music, Princess Superstar was the obvious winner. If you want to actually read the article in which I talk about the, er, music side of things (the one I was sent to the event to write), you can read it here. I was lucky enough to have a chat with her after the gig. She remembered me from last years gig at Famous, and even remembered the Geelong gig from 2002. Grabbed a photo with her which you can gaze over once I upload it over the weekend. Speaking of, er, hem hem, celebs, I managed to spot John - the guy with tourettes - from last years Big Brother. You know, the one that got kicked out with Ashley for turkey slapping Camilla? How exciting. Um...
Survival of the fittest: That's the way things go at these gliteratti type dance parties. Here's a couple of tips to keep in mind the next time you attend a dance party/function with the ugly-pretty people... Some of them are actual tips worth taking note of, the others, more tips on how to blend in with the majority.
* The one trick with these types of parties is to make sure you walk in with the thought that you are actually a much nicer and overall better person than anyone else in attendance. 98% of the time, this thought process is actually correct, but you need to walk in KNOWING it is 100%. Quite frankly, it's a survival technique, and the only possible way you'll be able to resist swapping your overly-sized sunglasses during a dancefloor moment with a munted metrosexual. Remember, no matter how many drugs you've consumed, apparently there is just no excuse to be nice to anyone. So if you feel an urge to say "please" or "thank you" at all during the day, it's quite obviously time to shut up and have another line of coke instead.
* Do not touch skin with anyone, particularly if you are wearing white. If you walk away after an "incident" at the front of the dancefloor, you are more than guaranteed of having to endure the rest of the party covered in blotches of orange fake tan. This - no matter what Donatella Versace would have you believe - is not a good look.
* Be on the look out for so called "celebrity" reality show contestants, especially if you are a girl and the celebrity is a male. That shot of you with your arm around them and their eyes desperately wanting to return back to your orange cleavage is the PERFECT addition to your MySpace profile. And if you ask nicely, they might even whack their cock about your face a bit later. This is the only time during the day the words "please" and "Thank you" would be deemed acceptable for use.
* There is no such thing as too much lip gloss. Even if it does look like you've just gone down on an extremely fat, greasy pig.
* Wear your sunglasses if you plan on gurning your face off whilst under the influence. If you have glasses on, no one will take any notice of your chattering teeth, or the gnawing of your tongue on the dancefloor. None at all.
There is probably a lot more, but I've suddenly grown very, very tired. That said, contrary to all this nonsense, I did actually have a bloody good time. It just would have been an even better day had the crown not been made up of absolute morons, that's all.
Labels: Gig Reviews
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Coming Over the next 7 days...
|
 REVIEW : The Future Music Festival was held at the Sidney Myer Music Bowl in Melbourne on Sunday afternoon, with acts such as Princess Superstar, Rex The Dog (previously known as JX), TV Rock & The Midnight Juggernauts, just to name a few. I just happened to be there on Important Employment Business, and have a review of sorts coming up on that.
EMAIL : The results have been tallied for the My Favourite Pop Record thing I've been banging on about the past few months. To those fabulous pop bloggers who've agreed to be on the Commentary Panel - you should be getting an email with the full results some time this week. You - the reader - will have to wait till early April.
DETAILS : The greatest day of my life came in the form of a morning spent with Gary FUCKING Barlow. Oh yes.Labels: Gig Reviews, My Favourite Pop Record, Take That
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Burnt Day Out 2007
|
 The following five million paragraphs will be what I claim as my IAR review of the Big Day Out. I've broken it up into parts, so if you really cannot be arsed reading about my battle with heatstroke, you don't have to. As a whole, the review is a "bit" long and quite shambolic, so don't say I'd not warned you.
That's the best photo I took all afternoon/evening at Sunday gone's Big Day Out Music Festival in Melbourne. If you think you can spot that mug from a mile away, and have guessed it as belonging to Lily Allen (left!), pat yourself on the back and treat yourself to a piece of flavoured gum, for you deserve it!
You'll have to forgive me. I'm still recovering from what could only be explained as the most retarded case of Heatstroke I've seen. Did you know that having Heatstroke can temporarily impair your vision? I wasn't aware of this yesterday morning whilst I was trying to work in my 9 to 5 job. The 9 to 5 job which I arrived an hour late for, mind, and left an hour later from. How did this happen? Allow me to explain...
DEATH BY HEATSTROKE
For those of you unaware of what the Big Day Out is, it's a festival each year held across Australia on different dates, where International and Aussie acts join forces over several-many stages to perform all on the one, hot, skin-burning day. Melbourne's Big Day Out has/had a gorgeous history with the Royal Melbourne Showgrounds. Two years ago, those showgrounds were "renovated" for sporting events, and are now so completely fucked up in build that there is just no possible way a Big Day Out could be held there ever again. So two years in a row we've had the "luxury" of it being held at Princes Park. Understandably, last years BDO was the first at the new venue, so baby steps were expected when it came to things like, oh, for example, shaded areas. And by baby steps, I mean none at all. The one thing the Melbourne Showgrounds provided punters with was ample amounts of shade all across the grounds. At Princes Park in 2006, this was a BIG problem. People left the showground bright red, no matter how much sunscreen lotion they'd applied. I remember reading late last year that the organisers of the festival were aware this had been a problem in 2006, and were going to make sure there was an extensive amount of shaded areas available for 2007. Surprise, surprise, there weren't. So being out in the sun, having a wine cooler - or ten, consuming bottles of water (but obviously still not enough of them), and applying sunscreen lotion every 3 hours... and I still managed to burn most of my face and neck off, and was blessed with the joys of blurry vision for 8 hours yesterday afternoon, on top of a migraine. My god. I'm getting old.
So was it all worth it?
CLAUSTROPHOBIA HELL WITH LILY ALLEN
Attempting to find a half decent place up the front for Lily's set was an absolute fucking nightmare. People were pushing, screaming, threatening to punch on (I swear to god) with me - and this was just walking IN to the Boiler Room, in which Lily had been placed to perform. My friend Sera & I were disappointed to have not been right up the front, for we felt had we been, Lily would have seen our "crafty" home-made t-shirts and appreciated them very much indeed.
Whilst Sera may look like a supermodel in this shot, I have a horrible expression on my face which looks as though I'm passing a shit. Fantastic.
Lily sung a few numbers, including "Friday Night", "Nan You're A Window Shopper" (which about only 3 of us few thousand people in the boiler room actually knew was one of her songs), "LDN", "Everything's Just Wonderful", "Alfie", "Not Big", "Knock 'Em Out", & "Not Big", among others. Lily called George W Bush a "cunt", called the photographer's taking happy-snaps of her "cunts", and called another security guard an "ugly cunt". She smoked ciggie after ciggie, and even jigged about here and there. The set (which lasted 45 minutes) was pretty unbelievable, especially the tear-the-house-down performance of "Littlest Things", which would have silenced the critics claiming Lily cannot carry a tune. Once "Smile" began, however, things began to turn ugly. Hundreds of people were trying to push their way through, trying to knock out those of us who'd been quite close to the front from the beginning of Lil's set. It turned nightmarish, with people falling over, the girl next to me trying to run out because she couldn't breathe and felt an asthma attack coming on, and then there was little 'ol me with my intense case of Claustrophobia. Do you remember Kill Bill 2, the scene where Uma Thurman alive? I had to excuse myself from the movie theatre when I saw that so I could go and violently throw up. I don't so cope very well in these audience-crushing situations either. I don't throw up on people (boy, THAT would have been pretty funny though), but it does all get a bit much. I eventually moved as much as I could toward the exit and stood much 's buriedfurther away to catch the last 5 minutes of Lily's set. She was pretty brill, commented on how crap the Sydney crowd were (YEAH!), and threw up the two-fingers when someone hurled a bottle onto the stage. Amongst the crowd crushes and bitch fights, I managed to get a few happy snaps on my ageing digital camera.
Not exactly Herb Ritts, but it'll do.
SUNSHINE WITH A SNEAKY SOUND SYSTEM
This is most probably where the sun damage occurred. If that's the case, then it was all very much worth it. Aussie dance outfit Sneaky Sound System were - by far - the BEST act I saw all day at the Big Day Out. Miss Connie is an absolute STAR, ridiculously gorgeous and full of superb robot-esque dance moves. MC Double D - the bands resident rapper/front man - is also a joy to watch. Cheeky, extremely talented and quite easy indeed on the eyes he is indeed. Throw in the brilliance found within their debut self titled album (currently in my top 2 for the year) all up on stage, and you've pretty much got the electricity and chemistry one needs to enjoy themselves no matter how scorching the sun. I danced my ARSE off, especially to hit singles "Pictures" and "I Love It", and took about 60 photos of Miss Connie just generally being fabulous on stage. The first picture below is significantly special in greatness compared to the others though, for the gorgeous Miss Connie is looking RIGHT AT MY HAPPY-SNAP-MAKER. !!!!
AMAZING.
Here is MC Double D, showing off a lovely hat and hints of an even lovelier snail trail.
Sexy vocalists, brilliant dance records and superb entertainers. It's almost as if Sneaky Sound System are the Rogue Traders of 2007, isn't it?
THE BRILLIANCE DID NOT CEASE THERE. You must all immediately take note of Miss Connie's STELLAR SET OF HIGH HEELED SHOES.
There are truly no words, are there?
BRIEF ENCOUNTERS
My Chemical Romance were mind blowing, in particular when "Welcome To The Black Parade" began to blast its way through the grounds of Princes Park, whilst Peaches ripped everyone a brand new arsehole for her set in the Boiler room, removing a good 9 pairs of her underwear and donning sexy hot-pink shin pads. The Killers were more than likely great, but I was more interested in sitting in the shade than watching all of their set, so I only caught a song and a half. Muse, on the other hand, I saw pretty much all of and - as predicted - were stunning. The atmosphere was amazing through out their entire set as thousands of people cheered and sung along to every single line performed of each track. And all as the sun was going down. Very special indeed. Overall, the day was quite nice, but I was very much over it by 8:30pm. Hell, I was over it by 4pm, but there were too many acts left to see at that time that I just couldn't have left. Next year I'll be taking my own Shelter Shed, complete with a mini-bar fridge stocked with ice cold bottles of water, and a big fuck off air conditioner.
I took some more photos, such as crappy snaps of the screen whilst Muse were playing, a few more of Lily, a tonne more of Sneaky Sound System and even several of the Hotel Room several of my friends & I stayed in after the event, so if you'd like to see those, feel free to email me. And if anyone has any photographic proof that Lavina Williams, ex-Idol contestant and sister of Young Beaver Emily, was at the BDO in Melbourne, please email those through as well.
I should also mention that I managed to "spot" a couple of those crazy Pussycunt Moles AT THE BIG DAY OUT!!
Look at 'em go! The second from the left is most definitely Carmit, whilst the other two are probably Melody and One of the other ones. What troopers! How all so very sad there was no room for them on one of the main stages, a decission which saw them slum it out on the events smallest stage.
Loosen up my buttons indeed.
I cannot end this "review" without slamming the price of beverages at the event. $4.50 for a bottle of Soft Drink is fucking ridiculous. We're all just going to have to take out personal bank loans to be able to purchase a drink next year when it goes up in price, for I'm sure it was slightly cheaper last year.
Labels: Gig Reviews
|
|
