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 Andy J Ryan Robert Forster – Sydney Theatre, 21 May 2010 Former Go-Between Robert Forster played a special solo show as part of the Sydney Writers Festival. Robert Forster ambles on in a typically dapper suit. He welcomes us to the evening, offering an explanatory note that there would be a lot of talking, and also, when he refers to ‘the band’ he means The Go-Betweens, for the benefit of the purely bookish types in attendance. Forster laments the fact he only had the idea to present 15 Songs of Sydney to us tonight about a week ago, not months when the festival program was first launched as the place would be full and I’d be here for three nights. So rather than just a standard set of songs we were treated to an evening of genial narration, anecdotes and extended introductions of songs by Forster and The Go-Betweens that were inspired by (Part Company, Spring Rain), recorded in (Clouds, I’m All Right, Dive For Your Memory) or merely made mention of our fair city of Sydney (Darlinghurst Nights). Darlinghurst’s famed back-street cafe coffee was said to be responsible for Ed Kuepper writing all his Laughing Clown’s work – “that’s why the songs were so long”. The suburb and it’s colourful cast of characters; and it’s nights also gave Forster a song. Sydney, Forster recounted, was also the destination for a naive road trip for he and fellow Go-Between McLennan so they could check on the progress of the pressing of the band’s first single. A trip greatly enhanced by the purchase of a Playboy magazine – for the articles of course, namely a Bob Dylan interview – and finding the elusive fourth Monkees album. The story really provided a biographical snapshot of the two Brisbane boys who’s first tentative foray into the recorded world was an unworldly ode to the ravishing red-headed actress ‘Lee Remmick’. The brace of songs from 16 Lovers Lane album, recorded in Sydney a decade later showed how far Forster and the band developed from this humble beginning. The 15 songs, and encore, traced through ‘the band’ and Forster’s solo work, each with revealing narration, making for an illuminating evening giving a rare insight into both the ‘Streets of Your Town’ and one of our countries more highly regarded song writers. Robert Forster Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan Hoodoo Gurus – Oxford Art Factory, 20 May, 2010 Sydney fans got the opportunity to witness the pure essence of the Hoodoo Gurus as the band bring their latest album to the Oxford Art Factory. Seeing a band more accustomed to the open spaces of festivals, theatres and stadiums in a small enclosed space is thrilling. The Hoodoo Gurus are now into their twenty-fifth year together, and their seventh since reforming in 2003. The band appear to be positively charged and rejuvenated to be presenting their latest album Purity of Essence and waste no time delving into it with opener ‘What’s in it For Me?’. They too seem to be revelling in the small venue, with front man Dave Faulkner observing the Oxford Art Factory has “A bit of a Max’s Kansas City vibe” to which guitarist Bead Sheppard replies “more of the Trade Union Club”. The band had stated their intent with their latest album was to create a set of singles as if it were a greatest hits collection. Tonight was proof that they went a fair way to achieving that with new album tracks ‘Ashamed of Me’, the stomping new single ‘I Hope You’re Happy’, and ‘The Stars Look Down’ standing up alongside Hoodoos classics ‘I Want You Back’ and ‘Waking Up Tired’. On stage the Hoodoo Gurus offer the contrasting counterpoints of the jovially effusive Dave Faulkner – clad in bright white and luminous purple – and the tight-black clad, scruffy, undiluted essence of rock god that is Bred Shepherd writhing and reeling off scorching riffs alongside; both stoically backed by the rock solid rhythm section of Kingsmill and Grossman. Faulkner has the gift of writing songs that are almost instantly timeless, turning the struggles of the every day and everyman into the epic chorus. A prime example coming in the form of a spontaneous solo performance of ‘My Girl’ that had friends and strangers alike arm-bound and singing along. The romping new number ‘Crackin’ Up’ proves the band are still as un-ignorably potent as ever before we get a trio of treats from their persuasive past in ‘1000 Miles Away’, ‘The Right Time’ and ‘What’s My Scene’ before a brief but blustery encore. The Hoodoo Gurus recorded catalogue already stands up. In 2010, as a live force and contemporary music making entity, they are only adding to it. A unique chance to get close and compounded by one of Australia’s very important bands. Hoodoo Gurus Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan The Cult – The Big Top, Luna Park, 6 May 2010 The 25th anniversary of The Cult’s landmark Love album world tour to the sanctuary of Sydney. The night started off promisingly with the ringing, darkly jangling guitars and expansive moods of The Black Ryder providing a quite mesmerising distraction to the early arrivals. But then things got a bit tense as the advertised start time for The Cult came and went, with every song coming over the PA building agitation, not anticipation. It was 40 minutes later before the band finally took to the stage. Singer Ian Ashbury skulked off soon after and shooed away the photographers after less than a minute, then proceeded to throw and kick the monitors, stands and microphone before the first song was out. Love was the album they were playing for us, but not the feeling we were getting. The atmosphere was simmering, with Ashbury’s petulance creating more tension with the audience than the music was. A meltdown seemed imminent and the crowd were being goaded with “this isn’t a Bon Jovi gig” and “you don’t know the words, do you?”. The Cult were singing about the ‘Revolution’ but weren’t really inspiring one. The album’s penultimate track ‘She Sells Sanctuary’ is the band’s calling card, and could have turned this tumultuous evening around. It’s stilted tempo makeover and the fact that nearly all the lyrics were half-swallowed saw it fall a bit short though, ‘Black Angel’ came and went and it was the end of the section. After a short interlude of oriental music and a video screen of orchids, the band returned for their ‘rock’ set. Ian had ditched the sunnies and attitude, and donned a bandana; and the band ripped into ‘Electric Ocean’ with a renewed vigour. Then the lights dimmed; a spotlight found Billy Duffy standing legs astride and arm poised menacingly above his big white Gretsch. His hand descended and the opening riff of ‘Wildflower’ was a defibrillator hit to the whole night. The rollicking double of ‘Sun King’ and ‘Rise’ followed and even a brand new song ‘Dirty Little Rockstar’ hit the mark. The band certainly have the anthemic choruses, and in Duffy, the riffs at their disposal to captivate a cavernous room such as this – a point they proved with a final pairing of ‘Fire Woman’ and ‘Love Removal Machine’. But not quite all was forgiven; as a footy commentator may say, this was a show of two halves. So while The Cult came home with a wet sail, the delicate nature of songs on the first half of the Love album probably needed a smaller space and a longer fuse. At least it was authentically volatile. The Cult / The Black Ryder Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan Gareth Liddiard, Notes Live, April 17, 2010 A Drone alone in stripped back mode takes to the stage of Notes Live. The solo show is an intriguing institution. On the one hand it offers a chance to hear a band’s songs stripped back to their humblest origins with the words merely accompanied by a few strummed chords giving the bare bones of the melody. It also gives an outlet for the pure expression of songs unadulterated by the existing expectations, sounds and structures of their band. The Mess Hall’s most recent album saw them exploring some new terrain away from their trademark raucous blues-infused rock, and by the mostly unheard songs unveiled by their front man Jed Kurzel tonight suggests he’s still got a few tricks up his sleeve. With just a raggedly strummed electric guitar and a loop pedal, Kurzel delved into some dark and honest ballads of fractured families and people gone awry that had the crowd hushed throughout. Fortunately so as Kurzel noted, he had just finished a month and a half touring with The Mess Hall so had put-downs at the ready for any ‘loud wankers’. When compared to his usual serrated riffing and manic guitar wringing persona in The Drones, Gareth Liddiard is quite unflappably calm and bone dry in his demeanour. Possessing only an acoustic guitar, he laconically introduces proceedings with “I’m going to start with the song I always start with”. Rather than engage with the audiences’ interjections, he dismissively gives an-all request ignoring caveat of “I’m deaf, I’m in the Drones”. Thankfully, the crowd remain mostly reverential for the set which trawls through some starkly-outlined versions of more sprawling recent Drones epics – including, ‘Jezabel’, ‘Locust’, the shunned Australian history sourced ‘…Alexander Pearce’ while also stripping bare the usually throbbing ‘Shark Fin Blues’ and ‘I Don’t Ever Want to Change’. The un-imbellished voice becomes even more distinct when not buried in noise, with a range that sinks from parched and gamey to rise through to almost nasal-inflections as the raw emotion undulates through the songs. If anything shows the distinctly honed song writing capacity on show and the keen talent Gareth (who hates being referred to as Liddiard, as it’s such an uncool name) has for drawing the interest and wider emotion from the everyday, it is the new song ‘Blondin Makes an Omelette’, which reflects upon the circumstances of a tightrope walker of such talent he could cook an omelette while traversing a wire strewn across Niagara Falls. Tonight provided a perfect venue for showcasing the unadorned essence of the talents of our more captivating songwriters. Gareth Liddiard / Jed Kurzel Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan Perry Keyes, Notes Live - 16 April, 2010 A jam-packed Notes Live joined Perry Keyes for a stroll through the streets and sounds of Johnny Ray’s Downtown. Notes Live was originally conceived as a seated, intimate dinner & show type venue, but this is probably the first time the diners seated down front were outnumbered by those standing behind the tables. The occasion, the launch of the highly regarded new album Johnny Ray’s Downtown, by knockabout local songwriter Perry Keyes. And the night was just plain triumphant. Keyes and the band were black-clad and hatted for the occasion - as a nod to a recently witnessed Lyle Lovett – and had the crowd reverentially hushed during, and ecstatically erupting after, each and every song. The songs themselves deal with gritty tales of inner city Sydney in days gone by, when times were simpler, but love and life still proved complicated. While some big feelings are sung about, it’s the small details that litter the songs, with street names, suburbs and sports stars signposting the unravelling tales of everyday troubles that make them so rich and gripping. And probably explains why so many people are here and feeling so strongly about them. You can relate to the lives played out on the same streets as yours, if not some of the troubles that beset them. We get to hear the great bulk of the new record, with Keyes accompanied by a crack band - featuring the power-pop polish of Michael Carpenter, Casey Atkins and Russell Crawford, the soul-drenched keys of Johnny G and the country-throb crackling bass of Charlie Lee - utilizing what Keyes jokingly refers to as ‘Brian Wilson’s touring gear’ providing further musical enlightenment. Keyes brings former-flame and album collaborator Bek-Jean Stewart on for some sweetly spirited singing on early track ‘Matraville Trees’ and the reflective ballad ‘Queen of Everone’s Hearts’ and to close the evening. The crowd refuse to leave without more though and we get two more songs concerning two subjects obviously close to Keyes heart – the mighty South Sydney Rabbitohs and The Clash in ‘The Day John Satler Broke His Jaw’ and ‘Joe Strummer’. Glory Glory. Perry Keyes Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan Kim Salmon & the Surrealists, Spectrum, 10 April, 2010 The launch of the first new Surrealists album in a thirteen years sees Kim Salmon strut the Spectrum stage. Australia doesn’t really revere well. We have countless creative types who are critically and fanatically adored abroad, yet remain almost unknown on our shores. Kim Salmon’s impressive resume includes stretches in the highly influential Scientists, Beasts of Bourbon, Antenna, The Darling Down, The Business, and his recently reformed three-piece outlet The Surrealists. First formed with Tony Pola and Brian Hooper, the band were formed under the auspices and ethos of punk with the inspiration the improvisation aspect of jazz. When Salmon took to the stage brandishing a Dictaphone and played a swirling mass of feedback and un-restrained, whirring noise by way of introduction, to the set & new album’s opener ‘Turn Turn’, it’s clear, that after numerous years and line up changes those traditions still exist today. The Surrealists, now comprising bassist Stu Thomas and drummer Phil Collings, are all about creating music focussed on power and purity, with the guitar proving to be the main protagonist. Their sound is hardly what you could safely call tuneful or traditionally structured, with most songs created from noises summoned from playing pushed right to the edge. The band is challenging, with the rhythm section mostly just gainfully keeping up as Salmon’s guitar is wrung to it’s very last gasp of useful vibrations. During the purely instrumental ‘RQ1’ and the twenty-minute plus, two part opus ‘Grand Unifying Theory’ the trio barely share a word, but exist together on a whole series of unspoken, subtle cues that send the music veering into seemingly made-up tangents. After hushed and humble farewells we are seen off with the grandiose ‘I’m Keeping You Alive’ which sneers brilliantly along building to its megalomaniacal climax where Salmon declares himself a god. Which most in attendance would be tending to agree, particularly when he chooses to be a particularly compassionate one and returns to delve into the back catalogue with an ominous airing of ‘Cockroach’, a woozy telling of ‘Rose Coloured Winsdcreeen’ and the cascading convulsions of ‘Melt’ end the encore and the evening. While Salmon will seemingly always be a victim of interest in his past, overshadowing his music of the present. But his music will still potentially provide the same inspiration and influence simply because it is discomfortingly provoking, inspired and still pushing envelopes. Kim Salmon & the Surrealists Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan Simple Minds - Lyric Theatre, 25 March, 2010 Legendary Scottish stalwarts Simple Minds played an exclusive Sydney sideshow at Star City's Lyric Theatre. Once you've played to six-figure audiences and in sporting arenas, every other stage will seem small, but no gesture will ever seem too big. Simple Minds entered the smoke-machine shrouded Lyric Theatre and proceeded to pull out all the stadium stops. During the opener 'Sanctify Yourself, we were almost instantaneously invited to do some hands-above-our-heads clapping; a few verses later it was the time-honoured call/response crowd singing and Jim Kerr was chest-clutching, crucifix posing and grasping the hands of the front row like a deity himself. And you'd better believe the word "Sydney" was yelled out a fair few times. Despite the over-the-top delivery, the stage set-up was quite, well, simple, with the black-clad band just supplemented occasionally by a lungful lass belting out soul-tinged backing vocals. The lights too were something to behold, with each extravagant Kerr arm flourish or mic twirl illuminated in second-sun-strength wattage. While this would indeed be better suited to a large capacity stadium, it almost felt like it was too much in the staid and fully seated intimate surrounds of the Lyric Theatre. The thing is, the band do have the blockbuster hits to back it up so by halfway through the first song and for the remainder of the night, the seats became obsolete most of the crowd were on their feet and singing along despite themselves. It is interesting to see how a band of once mega-star stature, and with such an enduring career, treat their back catalogue. Despite Simple Minds still writing and recording new albums across their 30-plus years, tonight the people are here for the hits. We get them, and frequently. 'See the Lights', 'Love Song' and 'The American' all shone and were sung along as prompted by the crowd and 'Someone, Somewhere in Summertime' was slowed down to a croon to let Kerr show off a bit of his vocal range. The set built towards the song I'd imagined most everyone was waiting for - 'Don't You (Forget About Me) - the band's highest profile hit, which unfortunately for their royalty accounts they didn't actually write. It came about two-thirds through - and it was amazing: three levels of people on their feet, arms adrift and belting out the words, each perhaps thinking of their own current or lost -and hopefully non-amnesiac - love or crush, or maybe just wistfully reminiscing about Molly Ringwald in The Breakfast Club. They followed it up with the jolting '80s beats of 'Promised You a Miracle' and also threw in a rather deft 'Glittering Prize' before proclaiming "We love you, thank you and goodnight". It wasn't the end of course, and the band remained 'Alive and Kicking' for a few songs yet. We were assured that they had "loved every second of it" before the band took their bows to a beaming audience, postponing any chance we'd have to forget about them. Simple Minds / 1927 Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan Even - Annandale Hotel, 20 March 2010 Former Go-Between-turned-music-critic Robert Forster had as one of his 10 rules of rock 'n' roll: "The three-piece band is the purest form of rock and roll expression." Sixteen years ago when Even first started Australia was teeming with them, so much so The Fauves were prompted to pen a song 'Everybody's Getting a Three Piece Together', not many have endured as well as Even have. Back in 1994, David McCormack - appearing here with the current three-piece incarnation of The Polaroids - was fronting the irreverent and irrepressible quartet Custard, who we heard a good dose of tonight. McCormack's subsequent band and solo work shares all the cheek and charm of that band, but deal with more sophisticated and grown up subjects, like taking out AVOs and executing ex-boyfriends for instance. It was all rather good and finishing with the early Custard track 'Caboolture Speed Lab' put us all in a nicely reminiscing frame of mind and cherry ripe for the arrival of the birthday boys. Like an old fashioned sweet 16th party, purity is what Even is all about. This no-frills trio draw influence and inspiration from classic bygone British acts but add a good dose of local brawn and bluster to the mix. So while the guitars ring to the realm of the swinging '60s, the songs also still resonate with sweating Melbourne pub rock swagger. Their songs are punchy little numbers bristling with hooks and driving drums that just cook live, a fact that has greatly contributed to their longevity and the large adoring crowd here tonight. Their lyrics feed off the endless source that is human drama (life, longing and love); 'Black Umbrella, 'I Have Nothing', 'Stop & Go Man' are also odes to the fact that they and us just love this whole music caper, with the magnificent 'Rock 'n' Roll Save My Life'. You get the feeling they'd rather elicit a physical response than an emotional one, with words phrased more by how they'll fit in with a reeling riff, rather than how they'd read in a book. The set list raced throughout their vast back catalogue, and while requests are proffered, there was usually no need, as there are so many gems and so few duds in the band's work. But we did get a touching tribute to the late Alex Chilton with a cover of Big Star's 'September Gurls'. Though tonight was all about celebrating the birthday of Even, it was the crowd that got the many happy returns. Even / Dave Mccormack & the Polaroids / Wade Jacksons Champions League Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan Pixies - Hordern Pavilion, 14 March, 2010 Two decades on, Pixies tour the globe to celebrate the anniversary of their landmark album, Doolittle. Pixies arrived, shone and burned in seven years, leaving behind five albums that influenced scores of subsequent musicians and nudged the orbit of the music world ever so slightly off its endlessly safe, circular path. After imploding acrimoniously and the passing of more than a decade they returned, triumphantly, and now tour to celebrate the 20th anniversary of their second studio album, Doolittle. The record is one of the most enduringly consistent sellers of all time, picking up new listeners in every subsequent generation, which is reflected in the diverse crowd at the sold-out Hordern tonight. After a tension-filled giant video image and droning riff intro, the band finally ambles on all dressed in black, and Kim Deal shrilly announces "B-side!" before they belt into 'Dancing the Manta Ray'. We get a rollicking 'Weird At My School' and a couple b-sides more before the album proper starts, with the throbbing run of bass notes and the buzzing riffs of 'Debaser' - which, for such a signature song, is given a jaunty little tempo trim and is a bit choppy and throwaway, to tell you the truth. I think the crowd put more effort into singing it than Francis/Frank/Charles did. The tempo lifts for the next cracking couplet of 'Tame' and 'Wave of Mutilation', which are absorbingly precise and powerful for the former and sweepingly sweet and epic for the latter, with the dance floor turning into a sea of raised arms and singing voices. It just gets even better as 'I Bleed' flows grandly into 'Here Comes Your Man' - prompting another mass crowd shout-along - and you wonder how so many superb songs could all possibly be on the one album. 'Monkey Gone To Heaven' was of course lapped up, and one thing about knowing the order of the songs is that many in the crowd scheduled bar stops through the slightly less magical quinella of 'Mr. Grieves' and 'Crackity Jones'. But they were back and swooning and swigging through the tender ode of 'La La Love You'. More crowd-assisted singing ensued for 'Hey' and it seemed to end all too soon with the final track, 'Gouge Away'. Across its 15 songs Doolittle holds more diversity and intrigue than most bands whole careers. Everything from guttural screaming to sweet harmonies rolled through incessantly buzzing riffs, jolting tempo swings and all seeped in a myriad of deft melodies. The lyrics too both challenge and charm, traversing everything from the most obtuse theories of the galaxies right through to the most seemingly banal odes of affection. The house lights burned, but the show wasn't over. A further bracket of classics and we're sent off with 'Gigantic' and a lot of big, big love for the Pixies. Pixies / The Art Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan Dinosaur Jr. - Metro Theatre, 11 March, 2010 With barely a word of banter, Dinosaur Jr. issued a no-fuss, high-fuzz set of noise to Sydney. Deaf Wish seemed an aptly named support for tonight and also described anyone who stood too close to the front left of the Metro where J Mascis' ominous tower of Marshalls loomed stacked on stage. It was a strange and diverse crowd ranging from over-excited teenagers (who naively shouted at the appearance of a baffled, long-haired roadie) to the slightly-tighter-than-when-new faded vintage tour t-shirt wearing long-time fans in close proximity to the bar and its products. But both parties and everyone in between were thoroughly captivated as one when Dinosaur Jr. casually strolled in and ripped into 'Thumb'. The trio pretty much just kept to their designated section of the stage throughout, with barely even a glance of acknowledgement between each other. While a famously fractious band personality-wise, it is more so the fact that each member are so physically committed to concocting the colossus barrage of noise they don't have the scope to do anything else. Lou Barlow, who himself stood before a weighty stack of amps, berated his bass like he was cranking out power chords while dancing deftly from one shoeless foot to the other; while Mascis blandly stood upon his space-console that is his pedal board, conjuring the most stirring ruckus from his Jazzmaster. Murph was the stoic anchor in between, whose concise drum smashing acted as both a mediator and motivator, providing boundaries holding the noise all together, while at the same time pushing its other two makers right to the edge. They are just so precise and driven by the force of the music they make, they almost don't seem to need us there at all, content to just feed off each other's sheer volume. We were all there though and got to witness a career-spanning set, with the Barlow-sung 'Imagination Blind' heading up the first of the four tracks from the band's latest album Farm, three of which bracket the mighty chug of 'Feel the Pain', which thankfully this time went off without any actual pain suffered by the band. The set then traced back to their beginnings with 'Repulsion' off their debut, before the set closer and the encore, a triple-treat from You're Living All Over Me, with 'Sludgefeast' bringing a night of sheer musical power to an end and signalling the beginning of ear-ringing feast. And it just goes to show, you don't need banter or fanfare when your music is as delightfully potent as this. Dinosaur Jr. / Deaf Wish / Bed Wettin' Bad Boys Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan Pavement - Enmore Theatre, 4 March, 2010 A sell-out crowd relished the re-formed seminal line-up of Pavement as they enchanted the Enmore Theatre.† Interest in the music of the '90s is at an all-time high. The whole 'Don't Look Back' concept concerts and the lure of a festival headline slot has seen a glut of reformed bands revisit Australian audiences of late. Often these rejuvenated acts have not only preserved, but also enhanced their legacy, and given great ammunition to those who saw it all the first time around and are fond of using the phrase "back in my day" to those flaming kids today. Pavement was no exception. A band who were always more influential than successful sees a truly reverential crowd in attendance, most just awestruck at the chance to see Pavement play. The intros of songs are met with swoons and squeals, their endings met with high fives, hugs, holds, and heaving hearts. This is a band, and a back catalogue, that is very special to a lot of people. The band too, free from the constraining music industry grind of the writing, recording and touring cycle are relishing these songs again and presenting them with a respectful zeal - particularly Bob Nastanovich, the master of effusive interjections - that kept the crowd on the cusp of delirium throughout. One argument for why this bygone time's music is still so resonant to people today is that bands actually got the time and space to evolve, to get difficult, experimental, deep and disenfranchised and still amass a quality batch of records. There is just so much to Pavement that you can never really appreciate until you can witness it unfold in front of you. Personality-wise, the detached perfectionism of Stephen Malkmus, who is just truly gifted in his ability to wring the sweetest melody out of even the most obtuse phrase, is counter-pointed by the more light-hearted, yet equally deft Scott Kannberg (aka Spiral Stairs) weaving sublime guitar lines throughout - and shining through the cracking 'Date With Ikea'. The rhythm section of Mark Ibold and Steve West were just beaming at being there and Bob, was just, well Bob. All five albums were represented, the big songs were sprinkled throughout and saw the set soar magnificently in places, but mostly just warmly glow, and not just from the fairy lights adorning the stage, leaving many people's faith temporarily restored in music and humming happily home through Enmore's shady lanes. Gersey / Pavement Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan The Pains of Being Pure At Heart – Oxford Art Factory, February 21, 2010 Emerging Brooklyn septet The Pains of Being Pure At Heart sweetened up Sunday night in Sydney on their first ever Australian tour. The utterly polite crowd and affable atmosphere of the evening meant the OAF probably could have replaced one of the VB taps with a kettle and some Chai and offered strainers instead schooners. Leading in for the much gushed about headliners was the one-lady and her laptop of the New Zealand-based Bachelorette, or Annabel Alpers to her roll call teacher. Alpers’ backdrop was an icy forest, though her demeanour that of almost apologetic shyness as she shrugged her way through a set of – not always compliant – computer provided electropop. The songs ranged from hauntingly ethereal sagas to innocently bouncing squirts, all delivered in an uniquely amazing voice and overall exceedingly pleasant indeed. Pleasantness is something Brooklyn Septet The Pains of… have in spades. Right from their politely uttered thanks and talk of birthdays, twins, ‘totally awesome’ support bands, and their obvious sheer joy at just being in Australia and the fact that the singer’s mom was in attendance, the band were just so gosh-darn nice. Their songs, too – delivered with coy fringe flicks and aloof affectations - are sweetly strummed odes to crushes, fond feelings and other such lovely things. The crowd were charmed from the opening of the mischievous ‘This Love is F***king Right’ and clung on tight as the band veered through their small, but potent catalogue comprising their debut album and more recent EP, with a couple of brand spanking new tracks thrown in for giggles. The band possess the full satchel-bag of styles at their disposal. We got everything doses of dreamy boy/girl vocal ones – ‘Hey Paul’ and ‘Come Saturday’ – the glossy and glorious pop of ‘Young Adult Friciton’, the fuzz-hazed ‘Higher Than the Stars’ or their most affecting jangling stomp and ringing-guitar filled slices of bliss of ‘Gentle Sons’ and ‘This Tenure Itch’ to top it all off. A soon to be bigger-band delivering some near-classic gems wrapped and presented in just an adorably wholesome package equalled a rather smashing Sunday night. Bring those pure hearts back soon. The Pains of Being Pure at Heart / Bachelorette Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan The Blackeyed Susans – The Basement, 5 February, 2010 Revered musical troubadours The Blackeyed Susans reveal a little bit more of themselves to Sydney for their box set launch tour. The latest incarnation of The Blackeyed Susans rolled into town for encore shows to launch their career retrospective box set Reveal Yourself 1989 – 2009. But had to profusely apologize that they didn’t actually have any of the actual CDs for sale. Across their twenty-year career the band has had an impressive and imposing array of musicians pass through its ranks, with members drawn from and going on to be part of this country’s most esteemed bands. The current line up entrusted with The ‘Susans legacy mixes members from different eras of the band, with two original members - the dapperly hatted Rob Snarski out front, and Phil Kakulas on bass - with mid-nineties recruits Kiernan Box, Dan Luscombe, Mark Dawson and the (relative) new kid JP Shilo. When the band’s journey casts such a significant and long shadow as The Blackeyed Susans’ does, it is quite the privilege for both the crowd and quite noticeably also for this current cast musicians to witness their legacy unfold in front of them. Each muisician adds their own set of influences to the ‘Susans sound, ‘Bottle of Red’, You’re a Good Doctor - that’s one we fucked up at rehearsal last night, and we fucked it up worse tonight. Their more straight forward brooding rock single Mary Mac was introduced with “This is one we want you up dancing on the tables for, so if you could organise that amongst yourselves” and Snarksi even actually expressed his disapproval that it didn’t actually come to fruition, but the crowd lapped it up. Then by landing on us a potent one-two combo by launching straight into the rollicking ‘Smoking Johnny Cash’ the set reached a marvellous crescendo and they had us primed for the more jovial reminiscing that was to follow. “In a past life the Blacked Susans were actually a 60’s girl group, and this is proof. “OK, you’ve got another choice ‘State Trooper’ or ‘Memories’. And fittingly, ended it all with ‘The End of the Line’. Everyone probably took away a connection both with the band and also to a time where their songs sound tracked a bygone part of his or her life. Drawing from their six impressive albums and numerous singles and EPs spanning two decades, tonight The Blackeyed Susans revealed themselves to be nestled among some of the better bands this country has produced. The Blackeyed Susans Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan Frightened Rabbit - Beach Road Hotel, February 3, 2010 Lank and moody quartet Cabins provided the swirling soundtrack for a crowd unfortunately mostly concerned with taking interminable amounts of photos of themselves posing with their various combinations of friends, so their set flashed by. Then the room filled, and kept filling. Something special was brewing. Frightened Rabbit took the stage and humbly greeted the crowd which returned the salutation with a raucous room-filling sweat-and beer drenched cheer and seemingly non-existent gaps were occupied with even more humanity. As over-awed as the band seemed that they had a brimming building full of audience halfway across the globe from their home, it was nothing compared to the overjoyed reaction that greeted them when they went out on a limb and kicked off with 'The Modern Leper'. The great bulk of the set comprised songs from the band's second album The Midnight Organ Fight, which itself is such a gripping and diverse batch of songs, which are ridiculously potent when presented live. Singer Scott Hutchison's Scottish tones just seem to convey the raw pain and suffering in the songs so well. Perhaps the distance in both time and healing since their writing, and the effect of the euphoric crowd at their feet, sees even their most heart wrenching recording moments such as 'Good Arms vs. Bad Arms' and 'My Backwards Walk' covered with rowdy blasts of noise cloaking the lamenting lyrics. That's the beauty of the band, stark lyrical beauty set to runaway riffs and songs that on one hand can thrust and bubble or else just drop sharply away to reveal that beautiful rich brogue. The recognisable riffs of 'Fast Blood' and 'I Feel Better' were both greeted with huge cheers and sing-alongs; the refrain of "It takes more than f**king someone you don't know to keep warm" was shouted and shared among strangers. Their enchanting new track 'Swim Until You Can't See Land' had people pondering a short dip down the road and it all just ended to soon. You suspect they won't be playing for free or in a venue this small next time. Simply terrific. Frightened Rabbit / Cabins Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan The Dirty Three, Enmore Theatre, 26 January 2010 As a special Sydney Festival show the Dirty Three and the Laughing Clowns played a special Don’t Look Back concert. A searing Australia Day meant for a sweltering Enmore Theatre for the Laughing Clowns, who, lead by the raucous guitar of Ed Kuepper and squalling saxophone of Louise Elliott up front, stoically presented their particularly twisted version of the History of Rock ’n’ Roll’ Vol. 1. Kuepper proclaiming cheekily “and the hits just keep on coming” before ‘Sometimes’ and prefacing ‘Ghost Beat’ with “now we are going to flip the record over and get into some really obscure songs”. He wasn’t really lying, music this intricate and innovative would always struggle to find wider acceptance. Ocean Songs is a majestically languid and sprawling album that emerged from the Dirty Three at a fractious point in their history. Inter-band chaos and spiralling volume reached a breaking point and gave way to structure, and space, which surged into ten tracks that became their landmark work. Live, counter pointing the restrained beauty of the songs is the manic, ever writhing form of violinist Warren Ellis. His suit jacket lasts about five seconds and he is soon requesting the mixer make him sound like Jim Morrison, and definitely not Jim Nabors. Ellis explained that yes, they were here to preset to us one of music’s most significant and important works, Supertramp’s Crime of the Century, here is ‘Dreamer’. Thankfully instead we were plunged into the lapping Ocean Song shallows with ‘Sirena’. “Does anyone have the record here? What’s next Jim?” inquired Ellis before the next volatile voyage into ‘The Restless Waves’. While comparatively less visually arresting than Ellis, the staid presence of the transfixingly talented drumming of Jim White is something to behold. Now resembling Ron Jeremy, and equally adept at banging things, he is just the inscrutable anchor that holds these fascinating forays together. Music’s ultimate ‘straight man’ Mick Turner summons rushing rivulettes of riffs that gracefully wash across the swelling musical tides to create great crashing peaks of noise that loom and break as powerfully as waves onto the rocks. A front-lit stage and plain white screen sees the silhouetted figure of Ellis loom powerfully over the stage for the expansive ‘Authentic Celestial Music’, ‘Black Tide’ is dedicated to the late, great Rowland S. Howard and a near twenty-minute version of ‘Deep Waters’ is just monumental before the tide rolls back and we are left at the ‘Ends of the Earth’. Truly exceptional. Laughing Clowns / Dirty Three Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan Devendra Banhart – Metro Theatre, 24 January 2010 The floors of the Metro were sparsely populated for Melbourne's Pikelet, but she made the most of her time with some intriguing guitar and gadget wonky pop. The crowd swelled immensely in time for the Texan headliner, who had bought along his backing band The Grogs for his first visit to our shores since 2004. Banhart bounded out with a grin and graciously individually introduced the band as his first order of business before they got things going with ‘Long Haired Child’. There were extravagant arm movements and bad dancing aplenty contributing the whole ‘gosh darn’ pleasant vibe permeating through the room. The band weren’t mere backing musicians, with the drummer giving an intro worthy of a TV evangelist “here’s Devendra coming at you with some words of love” for the jaunty ‘Baby’. An intimate solo bracket followed, of just Banhart with an acoustic, no fuss, low lights and it resulted in big cheers. Banhart’s between song banter ranged from the almost sermon-like ‘I take everything as a sign from God’ to rants against smokers, to observations on Eddy Murphy’s Raw to reminiscing about things that took place at “an intersection in San Francisco”. So while you have this uniquely entertaining and endearing individual - who everyone had been waiting years to see and with people hanging of his every word - he was diluted somewhat by his egalitarian belief in sharing the spotlight with his bandmates. Everyone got a turn singing, songs gave way to jams, and we even got “a reggae song played by white people”. While the set was enjoyable enough, it all just got a bit ‘holiday resort’ in its tone, which for a big room of folks on a simmering summer night probably isn’t such a bad thing, really. But I was left to ponder how good a smaller venue, solo scenario would have been to showcase this idiosyncratic individual, though I ‘spose he at least got shirtless for the encore, if you are into that sort of thing. Devendra Banhart & The Grogs / Pikelet Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan Fear Factory, Manning Bar, January 18, 2009 Fear Factory returned to Australia as an all new machine for their Big Day Out Sydney sideshow. After a false start last June due to recording commitments, the latest line-up of Fear Factory finally made it to Australia. Anticipation was running high and the pit was thick with black-shirt-clad humanity and excitement. The bar lines stretched almost half way across the back of the room as a chant went up from the first few rows. As the room darkened, the band's logo was lit and out they rushed, with singer Burton C. Bell flanked on either side by large nugget-y men intent to wreak havoc with their instruments - bass player and Viking lookalike Byron Stroud and the imposing Dino Cazares, whose guitar looked like a toy in his bulging arms. Sitting up back high behind the drums was the stoic vision of drummer Gene Hoglan and he burst into a blur of sticks for the pummelling opening of 'Shock' and unstirringly blasted incomprehensibly rapid explosions of beats or cracking attacks of bass drum and toms for the remainder of the night without so much as blinking. Fear Factory and their multi-levelled sounds are highly influential to numerous bands across a number of strains that veer away from traditional metal. Their styles converge even within the one song. 'Smasher/Devourer' has the hard-riff grit and gravelly scream of your heavier and darker shades of the genre before it pares back to an industrial haze of noise and even a scream-along, fist-pumping chorus in the middle. Some songs jump between styles more seamlessly than others, as the many stilted attempts to incite a circle pit showed, but the songs were done with such volume and precision it tended to blow away the disjointedness. There was a bracket of songs from their 1992 debut ('Martyr', 'Scapegoat' and 'Crash Test') that were lapped up, and some new songs aired - the melodic crush of 'Powershifter' and 'Fear Campaign' which is a riff and machine-gun drum-fired, industrial-tinged monster of a thing. We were sent off into the night with a triumvirate of tracks from Demanufacture, ending with the whole crowd screaming and punching along to the chanting repeated lyric of 'Replica': "I don't want to live this way". Huge. Fear Factory Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan M. Craft, Oxford Art Factory, Friday 15 January, 2010 So this is the state of things in Sydney in 2010, on the way to the Oxford Art Factory I went past a line of 600 or so metres of dolled-up people lining up to get into the last ever Purple Sneakers. Upon arriving to the OAF there were only maybe a dozen people scattered around its periphery. Regardless, Emma Russack strode out with a violin and drums accompaniment and a voice that defied her small stature. After a coy introduction she began, eyes clasped shut and swaying in time to her subtle strumming as she lost herself in the songs. It was really quite gripping, like a slightly less atmospheric Dirty Three being fronted by Cat Power. The last two songs eased the tone a bit, sing-a-longs about some school bullies and the finale, ‘Sex on the Beach’ – the sandy shagging type, not the cocktail – a bit fun and frivolous end to a great set. The crowd had filled out by the time M. (for Martin) Craft took the stage. The amps and the drum kit were delightfully decorated with white fairy lights which provided a fitting balmy backyard evoking backdrop for the sparsely-strummed opening number ‘The Last Leaf of Summer’. The male/female vocal exchanges of ‘Sweets’ made it just so before new album opener and beery ballad ‘Beautiful Future’ kicked things on a bit. Most recently seen on these shores as guitarist for touring Britpop icon Jarvis Cockers’ latest rather rollicking album, his own work takes on a rather more unobtrusive tones. The songs, the great bulk of which are taken from his new album Arrows At the Sun, are reserved and considered, the lyrics being lingered over laments or simple narratives of everyday love and it’s many troubles. Craft too, is a restrained almost aloof performer, happy to just pace and strum back and forth as if on a short lead attached to his microphone in between delivering doses of his quiet, yearning-filled voice. The three song encore would probably do much to spark Sidewinder reformation rumour-mongering, with Pip Branson joining on stage to contribute on violin, which in addition to Shane Melder, who had spent the night on drums, meant that 3/4 of the former Canberra quartet were on-stage together for the first time in more than a decade. So as the last notes of the rather sweet adoring ode of ‘You Are the Music’ nicely ended the set, apparently Rhianna, and not us, ‘are the music’ deemed suitable to play at such a juncture, and the previously easily distracted and mostly chatting crowd burst energetically into life and bad-dancing. Yep, welcome to live music in Sydney 2010. M Craft / emma russack Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan King Khan & the Shrines - Oxford Art Factory, 6 January, 2010 A jam-packed Oxford Art Factory got to hail the hot-panted King in a soulful midweek extravaganza. King Khan is what would have happened if Little Richard had taken the other fork in the road and gone away from faith and the lord and instead found soul, sex and bad, bad women. He is as genuinely exciting as the '50s squealer, and while not as flashily exuberant, is as equally as magnetic. The jam-packed crowd was a bopping mass of heads expectantly awaiting his arrival, and his entrance was more than fitting. After a brief intro from his seven-piece band - comprising two guitarists, a three-piece bass blasting section, keys, drums and a flapper-era bedazzled cheerleader - King Khan arrived resplendent in his own crown, cape and immediate overwhelming presence, and launched into '(How Can I Keep You) Outta Harm's Way' off his latest record with The Shrines, What Is?!. Pretty much every last person in the audience was beside them self with excitement; it was thrilling. The sounds and the man himself were just so brazenly sexual and - despite the flying pom poms of the on-stage cheerleader - there was just something dangerous and forbidden about it all. People who were casually standing mere seconds ago were suddenly swarthily swaying and gyrating along despite themselves. A few songs later we were all shouting along to a blunt ode to one of Khan's less svelte concubines with "She's fat, she's ugly, but I really, really love her". A "gospel" song was introduced with a most unholy story of Khan climbing inside a woman only to be reborn, and the psychedelic romp of 'Stone Soup' saw nearly half the band mingling through the audience. We got a stomping cover of The Saints' brassy classic 'Know Your Product' and somewhere along the way while returning for an encore Khan managed to lose all his clothes, save for some black and gold hot pants, his crown and his lurid orange cape. There really was just so much going on - clothes and sweat were flying everywhere, band members swapped instruments seemingly at will and made regular excursions into the crowd, water was spat and sprayed - and the whole night ended with the stage empty save for three drunken dames who were now trying their best to work a guitar. An hour and a bit of debauchery with some molten hot soul as the soundtrack. Is it too early to decree gig of the year? Unforgettable. King Khan & The Shrines Apr 26, 2023
 Andy J Ryan The church Factory Theatre – 12 December 2009 Quite fittingly, the Factory Theatre hosted the church on the Sabbath day. The church are one of those enduring bands that don’t really have any albums – of the 31 to their name - you could call ‘bad’. Sure there may be a mildly disagreeable song here or there, but overall the church’s musical output is a quality body of work, which certainly translates to their live showing. Right from the outset – a smoke-shrouded ‘Tantalised’, - well, quite simply, we were. There was rarely less than 22 strings a-shimmering on stage - your regular bass & guitar and a 12-stringed acoustic or jangle-tastic Rickenbacker - add some atmospheric keyboard washes and the producer-precision percussion up back from Tim Powles, and it all adds up to a completely compelling sound. The really intriguing thing about the church is their inter-band dynamic. On one hand, you have the ultra-perfectionist and utterly intricate guitarist Peter Koppes in stark contrast to the exuberance and abandon of Marty Wilson-Piper. Then there’s singer and main-songwriter Steve Kilbey who seems to have a crippling complex from being somewhat overshadowed by the latter. They’re structurally akin to Fall Out Boy, except unlike the modern day indie-emo-teen dreamboat that is Pete Wenz, Marty nowadays looks like he sleeps in parks. The Church / The Kicks Apr 26, 2023