Death From Above 1979 and DZ Deathrays: a primal sonic assault

May 1, 2025

Artist, Vibration Theory, argues sub-frequencies can be found in natural phenomena — earthquakes, ocean waves, and even animal communication (like elephants using infrasound). “Sub-bass is nature — an ancient, primal sound that our bodies recognize instinctually.” Fourteen years after their last appearance on Australian soil, Death From Above 1979 proved this theory to be true in their own live shows – delivering a performance so primal, it elicited a fight-or-flight response. It demands your attention: a chaotic, fuzzed-out, brawling sonic assault that hits you head-on, consensually and relentlessly.

Rumors of a DFA tour in late 2024 transported me back to my college days, when bands like Violent Soho, DZ Deathrays, Waax, and Tired Lion were all merging unapologetic dance-punk grit into the ears of a new generation of tone enthusiasts. Sweat, blood, IPA’s, spunk, and punk — we were desperate for it.

In those days, a two-hour drive back to my hometown was a ritual. I’d destroy the inept speakers of my 2001 Honda CR-V, blasting records like You’re a Woman, I’m a Machine and Outrage! Is Now in a sonic quest to answer the question: How the hell do two Canadian sweethearts administer something so magnificently filthy? I credit my now-festishized obsession with fuzz pedals to these two tonal alchemists.

Accompanying DFA on tour, DZ Deathrays warmed up the crowd with a blistering force of chaotic energy. Once a duo themselves, DZ unapologetically deliver a sound that’s bigger than their setup suggests. Their set leaves you with a sore neck, beer-soaked clothes, and the feeling of being physically shoved through a house party mosh pit circa late 2000s — chaotic, reckless, and fun. Their performance was notoriously loud, drenched in heavy riffs and thick distortion. It’s the kind of set designed less for polite applause and more for losing your mind for an hour. Music made for screaming, rubbing shoulders, and reaching for the Deep Heat the next morning. The perfect fusion for any Death From Above fan.

With the crowd perfectly overstimulated, the sound crew teased us with the careful positioning of four large Orange amplifiers, signaling the territory for bass player Jesse F. Keeler. The crowd’s anticipation grew as Jesse’s iconic transparent Ampeg Dan Armstrong bass was pressed against the speaker cones, squealing into the hall — a subtle foreshadowing of the track “Turn It Out” to come. An array of stomp pedals and what looked like a Sequential Prophet-10 sequencer glistened under soft strobes as the venue gradually packed out with eager punters.

Jesse F. Keeler and Sebastien Grainger drifted onto the stage, welcomed by an ovation, 14 years overdue. Ying and Yang — they complement each other perfectly, dressed in black and white, taking their positions for the evening.

Then, they exploded into their set. “Turn It Out” hit like a wrecking ball, giving new meaning to the phrase “Two’s company, three’s a crowd” — two people, yet their sound was massive. A sweaty collision of punk urgency, dancefloor grooves, and pure distorted chaos gripped the crowd from the first bass riff. DFA’s performance boasted relentless bass fuzz, brutal drumming, and snarling vocals that crashed together with a swagger that was raw, dangerous, and oddly danceable.

Halfway through the set, Grainger made a comedic remark about being mistaken for a DJ as he accidentally entered the wrong venue. Despite his apparent disgust at the claim, it was a moment of light-hearted relief amid the sonic onslaught. DFA’s sound is giving new life to the underground drum and bass scene in Sydney that has seen a resurgence in the last few months. Seeing parallels in their sound and the resurging D&B scene, DFA show that you can blend danceable beats with raw aggression to create something entirely new — and this is Drum and Bass in its purest form.

After tearing through the album, DFA teased tracks from other records, including personal favourite “Nomad” and the unforgettable “Right On Frankenstein.” By the end of the set, the crowd was left feeling like they’d just been hit by a sonic storm. Exhausted, yet exhilarated — ears ringing, hearts still racing, bodies soaked in sweat. Wiped out, but mentally charged, as if we’d just been part of something bigger. And of course, we were all left thinking, ‘When can we do it all over again?’

Review by Daniel Jagger. Photos by Adam Davis-Powell. Read our interview with Death From Above 1979’s drummer and singer Sebastian Grainger here.