The “Let’s Get This Party Started” moment: Steriogram.
An enthusiastic crowd turned up for the local band-done-good. Frontman Tyson responded with an enthusiastic and well-received bout of crowd surfing. And that’s how he hurt his nuts.
He also enjoyed watching the handful of white trash thugs in the crowd up front partake in a bit of punk slam dancing. That’s where you have a fight with a stranger but disguise it as dancing. Unfortunately that’s where I was standing. The little punks were all wearing black wife-beater singlets. Unfortunately so was I and I think that’s how they confused me with wanting a slam dance. When they started up, it was amazing to see the crowd around them flee, like a gunman walking into a shopping mall. Fortunately they beat the crap out of themselves so I didn’t have to. Poor little babies, walking from the mosh early with bleeding faces and near-dislocated shoulders. Good times, good times.
The “I’m Here Through Vanity & The Mighty Stalking Powers Of The Internet” moment: Luger Boa.
Sometimes I remind myself that I was meant to be, like, a poet or something, so sometimes I do stuff and get shit published. The girlfriend of one of the band members liked one of my published poems and posted it on one of her blogs. I know this because I have one of those vain google notifications set up for all mentions of my name. Which also introduced me to the work of Luger Boa and they’ve been on my To Catch Live list for sometime. I caught the last half of their set, and their pop rock gems like You’re On My Mind and I Wanna Girlfriend do rock live. You get the feeling with these guys though that there’s still something bigger to come. Also I’m pretty sure I saw the girlfriend watching the band’s performance from the side of the stage.
The “At The Front, Right In Front Of A Bigg Ass Amplifier Might Not Be A Smart Place To Stand” moment (or “Give Me The Name of Your Lawyer, I’m Going to Fucking Sue”): The Greenhornes.
These guys were loud, despite their slow groove blues. And that was the beginning of the end of my hearing. I like to get up close, but sometimes you can be too close. They were cool, though. Not Raconteurs-Cool, but, still. Drummer was good and got rewarded with a drum solo.
The “Spinal Tap” moment/s: Jim Jones Review.
These guys kicked off with the frontman pouring his heart and soul into it. Unfortunately you couldn’t hear him at all due to microphone issues. Then the snare drum fell off of the drummer’s platform mid-song. Then the microphone finally kicked in properly and then the microphone stand fell off the stage which saw Jim Jones yelling/screaming at a security guard to pass it back up. The security guard had his back to the stage and was wearing earplugs. But all that amusement aside, this was one of the BDO highlights. The band looked and sounded like they were straight out of the 1950s and they were there to rock, and roll, and they so did. Highly Recommended. The frontman knows his craft. Even if he doesn’t always know when his mic is turned off.
The “Stop Hosing Me, You Dicks!” moment: CSS.
Thanks to the rain, half of the BDO was spent drenched. But the first soaking came much earlier, courtesy of some overzealous security guards in the boiler room who kept blasting me with a hose because I think they thought I was standing on someone’s shoulders. Dicks! I really am this tall.
Loved CSS. Good to see some chicks (+1 guy) rock the stage for a change, and I loved Lets Make Love And Listen to Death From Above. And the lead singer stripping down to her hotpants.
The “You Should Do The Who Covers Instead And Call Yourselves The Whom” moment: Wolfmother.
Wolfmother were OK. But they became orsum when they broke into a cover of The Who’s Baba O’Riely. I closed my eyes and it could have even been The Who performing. Brilliant. They band is some hairy mothers. Reminded me of Supergrass. Talented musicians though.
The “OMG I’m Going To Fucking Die In This Moshpit” moment: John Butler Trio.
It was packed and I was upfront. And those same little punk bastards from the start of the day were back. It was too packed for them to pull that punk slamming shit again so they just started swaying backwards and forwards and it took everything to stop from falling over and disappearing under feet. Cut that shit out boys before someone dies and then Pearl Jam will never play Alive live again!
JBT were OK. Laid back. Although John Butler went solo for 10 minutes of self-indulgent non-spoken solo-jamming. So not so much a trio at that point, just John Butler. But then, it’s his trio, so he can do what he likes, I guess. A sight to see though was John Butler and the bass player grabbing drumsticks during the last song and performing a three-way drum solo with the drummer, punctuated at the end with JB throwing his drumsticks up in the air and the drummer catching them. Nice. The drummer then threw his own sticks in the air and failed to catch them. Ha.
The “I Want To Join Your Cult” moment: Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros.
This was one band I had to see. Hooked since someone sent me a link to their Home music video last year and they didn’t disappoint. Frontman Alex Ebert spent a lot of time singing while crowd walking and Jade Castrinos also delighted by walking along the front and greeting fans. And I was right there. Being baptised.
The “Put Your Shirt Back On, Iggy” moment: Iggy Pop and The Stoogies were worth seeing. And the “stage invasion” where security were told to let 20 people get up and stage with Iggy was entertaining, although, er, staged. But the sound was so loud that the music all just blurred together in an indeterminate mix. And it was raining fucking hard by this stage. Wet and miserable, I cut out five minutes before they finished.
The “What Would Bear Grylls Do?” moment: DJ Bulletproof.
I had bought a waterproof poncho from the $2 shop in case it rained. But it wasn’t camo-style like I wanted, so I left it in the car.
So wet and dying of pneumonia, I needed to dry out and warm up. And since there were no camel or tauntaun carcasses to climb into, I headed for the boiler room. It wasn’t a boiler room this year, though. They had a new supertop, with no sides, so it was much cooler. So fuck it. Had to dance to a DJ to keep the blood from freezing. Sigh.
The “I Think You Were Better Last Time” moment: LCD Soundsystem.
Caught them last time they were here. They started half an hour late due to “technical problems”. Much better to dance to than the DJ but seemed a bit low energy for some reason and my favourite song of theirs, Daft Punk Is Playing At My House, was not as good live this time. Sigh.
Biggest Delight/Disappointment: Grinderman.
Grinderman was The Highlight of the day for me. I forewent Tool to get in early, unprotected in the pouring rain, to score a spot up front and centre for Grinderman. Which was worth it. Nick Cave was looking right at me. Pointing right at me. Coming down into the crowd and nearly standing right on me. They got off to a shakey beginning with technical difficulties delaying things. Then when they did kick into a high-energy start, guitarist Warren Ellis’ power supply blew out. So they stopped, then started again. Power blew again. So another delay while a new amp was hooked up. Then they were into it proper. Cave was amazing to watch. All that dark poetry was well suited to the wet and the wind and the cruel chilled bones. Ellis was also fascinating to watch. All hairy and mad-looking like a crazy old history school teacher. Or Mick Fleetwood, or Keith Moon. Cave would keep deliberately bumping into him to shake things up. And Ellis was still hard rock when he broke out a kid-sized electric guitar for one of the songs. These guys were nasty and loud.
The disappointment came, despite starting late and despite being the last act on the stage, they still finished at their normal allotted time. I was left waiting for an encore that never came. A friend who hitched a ride with me easily found me at the end of the night because everyone else had cleared out behind me while I stood there, wet and waiting. Boo. Hiss.
The “OK, Maybe I Am Getting Too Old For This Shit” moment:
I was laughing at the kids who were sitting on the ground with their hands over their ears in a “I want to go home, mummy, it’s so loud” pose. And those wearing fluoro earplugs. But I was pretty deaf as I walked to the car. And the next day when I listened to music or the answer machine, voices sounded like chipmunks. Freaky. I think I need to start consider wearing earplugs before I wind up like Beethoven.
Actually, that would be orsum. Just without the deafness. And maybe with an electric guitar. And groupies.