The Drones, Harmony @ The Hi-Fi Bar, Melbourne (13/09/2013)
When the statements that "Mickey Mouse is a Nazi", and "inside everyone, there is a communist trying to get out" comes from the bassist of the opening band Harmony, it's obvious that The Drones show at the Hi-Fi is going to be anything but normal.
The initial opening strains of Harmony's set seems akin to a funeral; controlled drums, three female vocalists singing softly and picked notes from guitarist/singer Tom Lyngcoln. However, this all changes once Lyngcoln opens his mouth and a gravelly, whiskey soaked rock yell emerges to encapsulate the small set of people who'd turned up early.
The openers execute this interchange between seemingly experimental poetic pieces, and straight up rock masterfully. With a unique quirk of having four vocalists, it could all go horribly wrong, but Harmony manage to convince the rapidly growing crowd that they deserve the stage, and could easily become a force on tours of their own.
Harmony's screamed "cacophonous rhyme" aptly describes the following headline act, The Drones. For a band that traces its beginnings in 1997, and definitively began in 2002 with the release of their debut album, ‘Here Come the Lies’.
Exceptionally, The Drones show no evidence of age besides the skill and expertise that comes from years of touring. Right from the haunting set opener of 'I See Seaweed', Gareth Liddiard was the focal point of the night.
During his vocal stints, it's as if the band is there only to support his violent emotions, viscerally thrown from his throat in a spray of spit to the delight of the front row. This is no detriment on the band’s behalf, whose instrumentation is perfect throughout the entirety of the show. A sense of doom permeates the setlist, in no small part due to keyboardist Steve Hesketh who hides in the shadows but dances alongside the riffs and walking baselines by Dan Luscombe and Fiona Kitschin respectively.
However, claims from the band that they're taking requests breaks the spell cast if only for a moment, where ‘Shark Fin Blues’ is an obvious stand out to the delight of the audience.
If The Drones have a main talent, it is bringing the audience to the brink of release, and taking them a step backward in order to keep them in a permanent state of anticipation; waiting for the moment they can throw their heads forwards in pure emotional output and sing along in unison.
On a lighter note, a drunken request for a Bon Jovi song 'In a Blaze of Glory' is met with deaf ears, but the persistence and luck of the patron is rewarded with a quickly organized 20-second rendition of 'Dead or Alive'. Definite credit must be paid to the entire band upon being grounded enough to acquiesce such a request; tentatively, this can be accredited to the band's Australian heritage and willingness to not let the "let's be serious" attitude of their catalogue to dominate their set list.
It's evidence such as this that results in Gareth receiving the sole honour of loving shout outs from the audience, whose erratic movements on stage coerce the crowd into nodding their head in an effort to keep up in Gareth's world.
This is what we are taken into; a universe where the lead singer commands the sole attention of an adoring crowd with obvious talent, and not just looks and styled hair. Even with a slight whisper, Gareth still manages to be louder and resonate stronger than the rest of the band combined.
Highlighted by a spotlight with the band in shadows, his cathartic lyricism during set standout 'Locust' covering suicide, alcoholism and everything wrong with the world, bears no good tidings for humanity. But the high energy displayed and obvious talent by the whole band is a perfect juxtaposition; yes this world is terrible, but there's still potential for greatness to push through.
The one-two punch encore combo of a combined effort of both Harmony, invited on stage, and The Drones; ‘Why Write a Letter You’ll Never Send?’ and welcome Leonard Cohen cover ‘Diamonds in the Mine’ ensures that the crowd are cheering long after the two bands have left the stage.
The Drones may well be a part of the last bastion of relevant rock bands that have certainly not lost their welcome within the Australian scene.
Jonty Simmons
The initial opening strains of Harmony's set seems akin to a funeral; controlled drums, three female vocalists singing softly and picked notes from guitarist/singer Tom Lyngcoln. However, this all changes once Lyngcoln opens his mouth and a gravelly, whiskey soaked rock yell emerges to encapsulate the small set of people who'd turned up early.
The openers execute this interchange between seemingly experimental poetic pieces, and straight up rock masterfully. With a unique quirk of having four vocalists, it could all go horribly wrong, but Harmony manage to convince the rapidly growing crowd that they deserve the stage, and could easily become a force on tours of their own.
Harmony's screamed "cacophonous rhyme" aptly describes the following headline act, The Drones. For a band that traces its beginnings in 1997, and definitively began in 2002 with the release of their debut album, ‘Here Come the Lies’.
Exceptionally, The Drones show no evidence of age besides the skill and expertise that comes from years of touring. Right from the haunting set opener of 'I See Seaweed', Gareth Liddiard was the focal point of the night.
During his vocal stints, it's as if the band is there only to support his violent emotions, viscerally thrown from his throat in a spray of spit to the delight of the front row. This is no detriment on the band’s behalf, whose instrumentation is perfect throughout the entirety of the show. A sense of doom permeates the setlist, in no small part due to keyboardist Steve Hesketh who hides in the shadows but dances alongside the riffs and walking baselines by Dan Luscombe and Fiona Kitschin respectively.
However, claims from the band that they're taking requests breaks the spell cast if only for a moment, where ‘Shark Fin Blues’ is an obvious stand out to the delight of the audience.
If The Drones have a main talent, it is bringing the audience to the brink of release, and taking them a step backward in order to keep them in a permanent state of anticipation; waiting for the moment they can throw their heads forwards in pure emotional output and sing along in unison.
On a lighter note, a drunken request for a Bon Jovi song 'In a Blaze of Glory' is met with deaf ears, but the persistence and luck of the patron is rewarded with a quickly organized 20-second rendition of 'Dead or Alive'. Definite credit must be paid to the entire band upon being grounded enough to acquiesce such a request; tentatively, this can be accredited to the band's Australian heritage and willingness to not let the "let's be serious" attitude of their catalogue to dominate their set list.
It's evidence such as this that results in Gareth receiving the sole honour of loving shout outs from the audience, whose erratic movements on stage coerce the crowd into nodding their head in an effort to keep up in Gareth's world.
This is what we are taken into; a universe where the lead singer commands the sole attention of an adoring crowd with obvious talent, and not just looks and styled hair. Even with a slight whisper, Gareth still manages to be louder and resonate stronger than the rest of the band combined.
Highlighted by a spotlight with the band in shadows, his cathartic lyricism during set standout 'Locust' covering suicide, alcoholism and everything wrong with the world, bears no good tidings for humanity. But the high energy displayed and obvious talent by the whole band is a perfect juxtaposition; yes this world is terrible, but there's still potential for greatness to push through.
The one-two punch encore combo of a combined effort of both Harmony, invited on stage, and The Drones; ‘Why Write a Letter You’ll Never Send?’ and welcome Leonard Cohen cover ‘Diamonds in the Mine’ ensures that the crowd are cheering long after the two bands have left the stage.
The Drones may well be a part of the last bastion of relevant rock bands that have certainly not lost their welcome within the Australian scene.
Jonty Simmons