The evening began
well: a purposeful pub-crawl which eventually wound up in
the foyer of the Metro. The energy emanating from the masses
was of a (deceivingly) higher amount than at You Am I a week
earlier. The night looked promising.
After checking
my bag in and investing in some refreshments, I headed to
the second row of the tiered section, settled myself in and
waited for the first band to begin.
As Hardware belted
out their hard-hitting set, my attention was drawn to a young
lad who had come to stand to the left of me. Chris Joannou
tried to remain inconspicous as he leant against the wall,
concentrating on the stage. Amazingly, he managed to go unrecognised
for most of the duration, apart from when a group approached
him as he made his way backstage.
With the sounds
of Everclear still hanging in the air, I listened to the selection
of tracks from MOM, along with other surf tunes, as the stage
was prepared for the whirlwind that was about to follow. The
anticipation was mounting!
As I was expecting
the usual intro of the "llama meditation spiel",
I was a little surprised when the trio fronted onto the stage
around 10 minutes early, emerging from out of the strains
of a more industrial sounding rendition. Launching into the
unmistakable opening bursts of Leave Me Out, I knew that this
80-minute stint was going to be well worth the wait.
Slave saw me leaving
my carefully guarded vantage point in front of the sound/lighting
pose, and making my way through the somewhat dormant crowd
to the front of the mosh (and I use that last word rather
loosely), where I took my place against the barrier.
The erratic beat
of Findaway followed, placing those who were inclined into
a frenzy of vigorous self-expression. This would have pleased
DJ after his pleas for us to jump and move.
"I
can't see very well, but you're not jumping around very much,"
Daniel said. "Jump around and make some noise... if you're
a girl, go 'ahhhhhhhhh,' and if you're a guy, go 'yeeerrrrhhh,'
and if you're bisexual, go 'ahhhhhhhyeeerrhhh!"
Freak, by far one
of the most enigmatic pieces from the all new material --
matched only by the sombre and emotive Cemetery -- was next
in line. The new qualities in Daniel's already powerful voice
made this tune hit home with a vengeance.
Suicidal gave us
all a chance to catch our breaths as its haunting ring floated
through the momentarily subdued mosh. As Ben and Chris left
the stage, the moment I'd been waiting for was about to arrive:
Cemetary.
After doing a short
spurt of a guitar solo on call, DJ was asked to do (if I remember
the exact words) a "dick solo," to which he replied
something in the way of, "You must have a very big penis.
All the guys in the crowd, turn to the guy next to you and
compare how big your penises are, and all the girls can look
at how big the penis is on the guy next to them."
With comments such
as these (including replying, when asked to play some Tumbleweed,
"If you want to hear Tumbleweed, go to a fucking Tumbleweed
concert"), it's evident that our frontman has developed
a great deal more self-confidence. Along with this, it appears,
has come a greater involvement in, and dedication to, the
music. His voice too has changed: it's become a lot more controlled,
and has a profound raw edge to it. This only added to the
impact of such cries as, "I live in a cemetery,"
as he presided over his audience, bathed in the blue spotlight.
Chasing down another
newie -- Pop Song -- was the monster Tomorrow. An oldie but
a goodie, this song'd have to remain one of my favourites,
and I have got to say that it matures with age!
Madman (the "love
song about hate," Daniel called it) hit us with all of
its usual wrath. Unfortunately, as I was pretty much on top
of the speakers, the guitars lost a lot of their definition
and became a blur of energy. But the song still goes almost
unsurpassed in my books. Daniel chose this time to do a few
rather acrobatic moves mixed in with a couple of quite impressive
jumps, all of which I only caught a glimpse of as I was too
busy getting into it myself.
The Door, Faultline
(in which Daniel actually performed the chorus album-style,
which surprised me), and Pure Massacre (according to DJ, "Pure
Mascara") preceeded Israel's Son. And yes, Israel's Son
was actually ditched as the finale. The song's lost a lot
of the hype that had previously been attatched to it, but
that's not to say that it doesn't go down just as well.
As the band left
the stage, I was horrified at the thought that this might
be the last we'd see of them for the night, but it was clear
by their abrupt exit that the guys would soon return. And
sure enough, after much encouragement from the crowd, three
figures returned for their inevitable encore.
Jumping into Fix
Me, a Black Flag cover, silverchair performed something that
was dangerously bordering on rap, but pulled it off superbly.
The guitar work here was incredible and Daniel's high-pitched
shriek had to be heard to be believed.
The short spurt
of Surfin' Bird which followed sounded a lot better without
the distortion as used in the album version. Finally, the
guys performed the Black Sabbath song Paranoid without the
aid of Everclear. Daniel crashed his guitar into Ben's cymbals
in a final bout of expression before jumping down to ground
level to do his own thing.
With Ben perched
precariously on the edge of the podium, I think we all knew
what was about to happen as he turned around to face the back
wall. Gillies' salute to the evening's punters. Slowly but
surely, the shorts came down to reveal a side of him that,
up until then had only been seen by the very privileged(?).
I could tell by the look on his face that he was very proud
of himself! Turning around once again, the not-so-little drummer
boy hiked up his daks and leapt to the ground, striding off
the stage.
My eyes immediately
dropped to the barefooted creature directly in front of me
to see if he'd follow suit. But no, the Johnster was far too
intent on thrusting his guitar into the speakers, producing
a bittersweet wave of electrifying feedback, before throwing
his power tool to the ground and leaving the stage for the
final time.
Afterwards, I sat
in the foyer reading good 'ol Drum Media surrounded on every
side by the post-concert congestion, whilst the three mums
-- along with a few other family members and appreciative
persons -- congregated nearby. A man who appeared to be friends
with Mrs. G. exclaimed with great enthusiasm, "Daniel
is SO talented, he plays guitar SO well, and that scream,
how did he do it? Ben's such a good drummer," etc. etc.
Chris appeared
to have a new lease on life as well, getting into the music
to an extent that he hadn't done previously. Still maintaining
his signature style of head-banging, he threw in a few jumps
and lunges, fitting right into the rest of the scene. As usual,
we didn't see a great deal of Ben (actually, that's debatable!)
apart from a few grins and signs to his co-rockers, and of
course his shining moment at the end.
As I moved outside
to await my ride, I fell into conversation with one of the
bouncers. He asked me what I thought of the concert, and proceeded
to tell me that a lot of people had said it was "shit"
and that quite a number of them had left half way through.
I replied that it was each to his own, and that every venue's
different, just the same as people's expectations are always
going to be different.
Whoever it was
that said if you've seen one silverchair gig you've seen them
all obviously hasn't been to one recently. The whole tone
of their performance was different last night -- add that
to the fact that Israel's Son was dropped as the finale, and
that there was a cover or two thrown in... of course people
are going to have mixed reactions.
One of my only
complaints of the evening would have to have been the crowd.
People were pushing and shoving for no reason except to make
it difficult for those around them, and you could see that
a lot of people weren't there for the music -- they were simply
just THERE. Most people have bad words to say about all-ages
gigs, but in all fairness that's where the "atmosphere"
lies -- not in a pit full of over-sexed guys with wandering
hands who can't hold their alcohol, and girls in lace bikinis
carrying out funk-ee dance club moves in the middle of the
mosh.
silverchair's style
has certainly shifted. It's making a break from the guitar-soaked
hard rock, and is seeking a more indie-punk feel. Good move.
It's a more mature style and has a lot more variation in sound
as the guys explore a whole new world of possibilities.
I'd like to say
congrats to the 'chair on a job well done. The guys are definitely
crowd surfing into whole new mosh pit of music-making endeavours,
and you can be sure that this is one person who'll be following
them into it every step of the way!
[EDITOR'S NOTE:
Thanks to Melanie for the review.]
By
BRUCE ELDER
On
the evidence of this truly remarkable, powerhouse, hour-long
performance not only are they going to be the hottest act
this summer (a point which seemed to be anticipated by the
endless surfing music which preceded their performance) but
they have the ability to be one of the greatest bands to emerge
in the 1990s. Oasis should be worried.
From
there it was on to Findaway with Johns' blistering vocals
once again making you watch in amazement, before another new
melodic hard rocker made you start to salivate for that new
album. But the test of just how good this band has become
came with Suicidal Dream (which was described as "coming
off a record we once did") with Johns' vocals having
no problems reaching the lower end of his range before exploding
into the chorus. And that was further backed up by the next
new song which featured Johns solo for a much more laidback
track.