Spoiler: This whole day was pretty fucking fantastic.
Sunday 5th of September – a day usually reserved for hangovers, sleeping in, and church-going (perhaps all of the above, if you’re so inclined) – was one big party, thanks to the third Hobart + Music = Yeah! festival. Although the two previous events were both day long jaunts at a single venue (firstly, the Fern Tree Community Hall and secondly, The Venue in Salamanca), H+M=Y! version three was scattered across three house venues, plus a fourth finale show at the Brisbane Hotel concluding with touring US imports Xiu Xiu.
Sunday 5th of September – a day usually reserved for hangovers, sleeping in, and church-going (perhaps all of the above, if you’re so inclined) – was one big party, thanks to the third Hobart + Music = Yeah! festival. Although the two previous events were both day long jaunts at a single venue (firstly, the Fern Tree Community Hall and secondly, The Venue in Salamanca), H+M=Y! version three was scattered across three house venues, plus a fourth finale show at the Brisbane Hotel concluding with touring US imports Xiu Xiu.
Catching a hired 12-seater, which invariably became known as “The Party Bus”, the little-van-that-could stopped outside the first house; an inviting Sandy Bay residency that sported cute/deadly cardboard artwork by Tom O’Hern and Rob O’Connor.
Firstly, The Breeze rocked some socks. They rarely play live, so this was a definite treat and a nice way to kick off the day. The Breeze are a guitar/guitar/guitar (bass) trio, who layer each instrument to create naturally-moving songs/soundscapes. Blink (of A Low Hum) said they sounded exactly like Dunedin bands from the 1980’s (i.e. the ‘jangly guitar’ sound), but here, now, live, Hobart circa 2010, they’re one of a kind.
From the laundry to the hallway, the magnificent The Anorexic Olsen Twin played goon-bag tales about violins + acoustic guitars + pianos. It was suitably messy for the content, and is some of the most original Tasmanian music this side of the Tasman/Strait (see: The Breeze/Ivy St.). The Chris Burrows Show is always a pleasure to be in attendance of, and this set was no exception.
Melbourne three-piece Tantrums were an electronics-based unit, augmented by a single electric guitar. Kicking off with the New Weird Australia-featured ‘Beat The Happy Pavement’, their music is the kind of stuff that might (abnormally) excite you as a 15 year old, coming off of Kid A/Amnesiac and seeking to pop your electronic music cherry. I don’t think anyone in the audience would have identified themselves with such a demographic, unfortunately. One of their newer tracks, currently named after some consumer store cola, was arguably their best and most interesting (what a useless sentence this is.)
Venue Two was a smaller house in South Hobart, and although the lounge area was a little too small for the whole audience, it provided a nice physical playground for the second act. Adding some beers to the communal fridge (or at least, it became communal), I followed the text-art of Ben Walter/Thomas Hyland that had been pasted around the walls until we were called to the lounge for act one.
One man band Zeal restarted proceedings with some Guitar Hero bleep boop. His modified plastic video-game instrument acted as his sample pad, allowing for a strangely physical performance for the mostly electronic music. Every deliberate flick of the toy guitar resulted in real-time shifts of pitch, tempo, delay, etc. Although presented well, the music itself sounded a little too shallow for its own good - sometimes fun, sometimes boring. He finished with a song on an actual electric guitar, probably for effect.
Spheres could be best described as looped, delayed, altered, pulled, and shifted guitar art. It was slow and drawn out, layered to hell/heaven and back. With equipment scattered across different rooms, Mr Spheres slowly made his piece and wandered around the house, adjusting separate pedals and returning to his guitar. It was one the few performances of the day that could have been easily placed in any contemporary arts space. This art space just happened to be a small South Hobart home.
Next, we were siphoned off outside to a poorly-lit and slightly dusty garage to find North American (and H+M=Y! #1 performer in Land What Land) A. Parks filling in for the scheduled (but M.I.A.) Gutter Parties. The space – and set – was both eerily silent and silently crowded; mostly soft, deft and crawling, but eventually becoming scarily prominent and almost shrill. Either way, everyone was attentive, just as it should be for such a set.
Tiger Choir rounded out Venue Two with their electronic indie-pop a la cart. The cramped room made it difficult for most to dance along, and one of the two video cameras that had been following each set through the day was situated in a corner behind the band. Although it might be due to my familiarity, the band’s earlier EP material (‘Dancer’, ‘Shotgun’, ‘Young Living’) seemed more interesting than their newer and unreleased work. It was a longer set compared to the previous few, but a few of the songs seemed a little rusty. Zeal joined for one song on keys.
Back on board the party bus, direct to West Hobart, we arrived at an open and comfortable mini-mansion – sometimes known as The House On The Hill, other times as Birdtree Manor, and on this particularly Sunday, mostly just ‘the fucking cool huge house’. A projector splashed green/blue/grey graphics onto an opposing wall in the band room (lounge room?) and all was well in the world. An adjoining sunroom gave way to a spill-over audience. The only criticism that could be swayed Venue Three’s way is the sole performance space, which gave way to delayed sets between bands and a slightly late evening show. No huge issue, though.
Photo by Duncan Marshall
The Native Cats sowed the first seed for Venue Three. Though vocalist Peter Escott was sick, leading to this showing being a bit off (sometimes, literally), a set-list of mostly fresh songs from their unreleased second album gave it some necessary interest. Julian Teakle kept the minimal-pop steady on bass. It’s the weakest I’ve seen the Cats, but that isn’t to say that they were weak by any means.
Damon Bird played a solo set as Transcription of Organ Music, and while he too was somewhat sickly, he hid it well. It was his fourth show in as many days and was well received. I saw Transcriptions of Organ Music as a four piece two days earlier, which was both a) noisier, and b) fuller in sound. Solo, though, the songs were somewhat fragile and even subtle; proving to be a calm before the storm of the next act. The crooning hit ‘Eye For An Eye’ (‘the hit’ I explained to Blink on the day, as constituted by a compilation appearance an D-grade celebrity cover) finished off the set to well deserved applause.
Aktion Unit provided some much needed guitar abuse. The Melbourne noisemakers were almost cathartic after Transcription of Organ Music. It was never ear-cleansingly-loud, though. Unintelligible vocals, and subsequently some minimal percussion, added some structure to the atonal guitar/bass noise. It wasn’t short and sharp, nor was it overextended and laboured. Enveloped by the Aktion Unit Experience™, nothing else mattered for those ten or twenty minutes. It wasn’t a mind-blowing show, but it was definitely a little more than enjoyable.
Another Melbourne group (seeing a trend?) by the name of Parking Lot Experiments tied up Venue Three. And they wanted to party. Party party party party partypartypartyyyyyyyyy. They all seemed so happy, maybe even too happy. There was play-fighting on stage; the drummer couldn‘t sit still (so instead he stood); and the shared vocals/instrument swapping alluded to a democratic process of inclusiveness. Whether the Parking Lot Experiments overbearing happiness is seen as their charm or shtick, I can’t deny I had fun with their performance. And danced.
After more party bus antics, it was onwards to The Brisbane!
Due to momentary weariness, I didn’t really engage with either The Stabs or Drunk Elk, but if I had to make a statement about either, it’d be this: The Stabs didn’t play for nearly long enough (a result of the small audience, half of whom were probably still making their way from Venue Three), but what they did play was swampy, rocky and rolly music. The final song ended in some more guitar torture. Drunk Elk were Drunk Elk and played cover versions of Drunk Elk songs. What a cop out, I know.
Kind Winds immersed the front bar in some noisy, floppy-haired rock music. Or that’s what I took it as, regardless of its intentions. Apologies KW. Saying that, it was great noisy/floppy-haired rock music. ‘Invisible Brave’, the only Kind Winds song that I’d listened to prior (and in that case, it was a solo recording), came alive here in the five piece band setting.
For Xiu Xiu, H+M=Y! seemed like a phoned-in pit-stop show. Ultimately, the previous four bands could have capped it off at a fourth house show (too much?) and the day would have been just as good, if not better. They were more danceable than anticipated, but most of the interested audience sat on their bums for more than half the set (me included). Hobart, never change. A quick survey of the audience might have lead to some divided opinion: puzzled, dissatisfied faces, those who got exactly what they expected, and others who knew what they were in for and just weren’t impressed. I thought it was a decent, if a little sterile, performance. The rock star stylings of ‘hello city x’ / play each track without saying a word / ‘goodbye city x’ was a little out of place at the Brisbane Hotel.
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Such a day as this is equally measured by the parts between each performance - meeting new people, the sober conversations, the beers, the drunken conversations, the musings, the unplanned fun - and personally, this day ranked pretty highly for all of these things. Props to the organisers (Jonathon McCarthy, Jordan Marson, Thom Hyland) for the great day: the use of private housing as music venues was successful in spite of any scepticisms that emerged before the event.
A wonderful musical day. Come next year if you missed this one.
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