Olly and the Sydney live music scene

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Somethingyousaid.com’s Oliver Heath snubs international posturing and instead finds pleasure in the local Australian scene:

I’ve felt like a traitor at gigs in the past. Gone seen an international buzzband to disappointment instead of one my local favourites. And let’s face it, for population size, the Australia’s we go pretty good for music exports. Maybe, pound-for-pound, Sweden does a bit better, but unless it’s Refused or some kinda Black Metal I don’t want to know about their flat-packed music. Straya, you’re alright. Acca Dacca mate.

I was underwhelmed by the Splendour lineup this year. I would have liked to have seen Polyphonic Spree do RHPS, but I’d rather just watch the film again, so it doesn’t really matter. I was bored at the Sydney Splendour sideshows I went to. I actually turned around, channelled Will Farrell and exclaimed loudly “I’m really bored”. The peeps around me seemed relieved that someone had broken the air and they didn’t have to pretend to dig a show of paper-thin posturing and cliche. Although they may have just been agreeing with the belligerent guy in the hat in the hope I’d fuck off.

This wasn’t the case last year. Father John Misty at Oxford Art Factory was one of my favourite shows ever and I defy anyone not to enjoy the Hypnotic Brass Ensemble. I can’t even remember the names of the dull bands I saw this year. In same period I’ve had the good fortune to catch a great mixed bunch of local bands. Here are the local standouts while the internationals have been boring me:

Teenage Mothers. I was randomly in the Flinders on the side of the bar furthest from the stage and saying how good the band sounded. A babe told me it was a secret show of the Splendour act we just seen at OAF. They sucked at OAF. Then I heard a familiar song and knew she’d got the band wrong. I ran across the room to sing along with a song I only knew from the internet. It was this one.

IMG_2113The next night I was at the Goodgod Vice Magazine party and caught Drown Under. I could watch Jack Mannix do anything. He had his ass cheeks out. He was majestic. I slapped that majestic ass. Fucking good programming, Vice peeps. They were supported by my favs from the night before, Teenage Mothers, and headlining were…

Chicks Who Love Guns. These guys always get a party going. Sweet dudes. It’s been awesome to see their band develop. It almost sounds like too much fun for one night. I hope I’m not getting beer fuzzed memories mixed up.

And before you go ‘whoa dude you just like the loud stuff’. I also really liked…

Post Paint, enough that I even forgive their snooty doily-using, public-access-television-watching, vintage-shopping crowd for being otherwise lame. I look forward to seeing them with a bigger band and less sequenced sounds when they are superstars.

And Something You Said’s own Jack Colwell had swag to spare. He is only going to get better. I can imagine seeing this dude on a big stage in 20 years. I like the way you tickle them ivory keys, bruv.

I noticed recently that the Big Day Out festival says it’s gonna have more midrange bands. I say bring it. Book more locals. Stagger them, make every second band local. I dare you. Thanks for supporting local music FBi, VICE, OAF, Flinders, Goodgod. Eat a bag of dicks, boring international touring sideshow sensations. I hope you get STIs so your partners catch you cheating. The fuck did I just write?! It’s okay, I’d settle for just not having to hear you play again. Let’s end on a happy note! Here’s some pics of Jack Colwell and Post Paint at FBi Social x x

Words and pictures by Oliver Heath.