Tag: The Annandale
Justin Townes Earle, with his loose Southern drawl and rascally chuckle, comes across like a character out of a Mark Twain novel. His self-deprecating humour, mixed with a dash of old-timey wisdom, is part of what makes Earle, and his music, so appealing. He’s as charming and funny over the phone as he is up on stage presenting his unique take on Americana. Since 2008, Townes has produced four consistently brilliant albums and has taken his truly mesmerising live performance around the globe many times over.
He may be days shy of releasing his debut solo mixtape, but Larry Prichard is still all about the crew. When we speak, the hip hop artist known as P.Smurf has only just woken up, after a casual evening at home shooting a web promo for Smurf Village evolved into something of an event itself. “It was a great night,” Prichard says, “purely because we just had such a big crew of people here. I made up this huge batch of chilli con carne – it had a kilo of everything in it. It pushed some people to the limit, but it was definitely good times.” Did he use last night as a dry run for his mixtape’s launch? “Ah, not really a dry run: more [of] a soaking wet run,” he laughs. “Our aim was to get some video of all our friends sharing some food and some beers, just to chuck out on the net. We ended up with people spinning on the decks, everyone taking turns to bust fat raps. We got the video, and it just felt good for the vibe of the show coming up. Because I know we’re going to be rocking a fat show next week.”
Posted: November 16th, 2012 under Brag 488, Music, Music - Interview.
Tags: Benjamin Cooper, Broken Thought Theory, Cooking With Caustic, DJ Ask, DJ Cost, Freshly Squeezed, Herb, Hy Jak, Mute MC, Native Wit & Verbaleyes (True Vibenation), P. Smurf, Smurf Village, The Annandale
Defeater is one of those bands whose live shows are consistently met with pants-wetting excitement by the kind of people who like hardcore, but are also totally cool with feeling feelings (is post-hardcore the one where it’s okay to cry?).
This time, fellow Americans Blacklisted joined as main support, bringing with them the requisite aggressive brevity, as well as some surprisingly lengthy ‘90s-style tracks from their most recent album, 2009’s No One Deserves To Be Here More Than Me. People seemed suspicious of the newer material, particularly the balladic track that bewilderingly happened midway through the set; aside from the throbbing horde of diehards up front, the crowd was a sea of Instagram-checking and uninterested beer-sipping. But the more straight-up, tough guy stuff (aka meathead-core) reeled people back in, especially George Hirsch’s antics, encouraging gang vocals by shouting “I have nothing to prove!” or treating the mic like it was a calisthenics ribbon.
Regular John’s guitarist Ryan Adamson and bassist Caleb Goman met as kids in the rural NSW town of Manilla, bonding over Smashing Pumpkins and The Beatles’ White album. Collecting drummer Ryan McDonald and former guitarist Brock Tengstrom along the way, the young band moved to Sydney’s Inner West and, after a host of jams, recorded their debut EP, Marrickville 2204. The chaotic influence of modern and vintage sounds have been a part of Regular John’s sound from this very beginning, and even in their infancy they attracted the attention of acts like Dinosaur Jr, Helmet and The Bronx. 2009’s The Peaceful Atom Is A Bomb launched them onto a larger audience and a generous amount of critical acclaim – and then they seemed to disappear. Nothing’s ever that simple, bands don’t just fall out of the space/time continuum, but in these days of fickle audiences with increasingly short attention spans, any time away can seem like an eternity.
The girl drummer/boy guitarist combo has become kind of a ‘thing’ lately, or so it would seem after seeing Newcastle’s Gooch Palms open for Obits last Thursday. (See Sydney band Bec And Ben for a similar formula.) Gooch Palms would undeniably be killer at a house party or a packed-out pub show, but were lost on the sparse and tired-looking crowd nursing their beers and dawdling nonchalantly in front of them. It was the first time Obits had come to Sydney, but the turnout for their supports was a little disappointing – and if a frontman partially disrobing won’t get the crowd going, I don’t know what will. Even Bloods, with their Veruca Salt-meets-Huggy Bear brashness and Pretty Girls Make Graves vocal parts failed to rouse much of a response.