Unfortunately arrived late, for the last few minutes of crowing and wailing from Melbourne idiot 3 piece Bum Creek. One of them was lying on the ground and it was some kind of demented acapala thing they had going making you mourn and wonder about the remainder of their set. They’ve just released their debut LP (yes vinyl) on Chapter filled with joyous broken spazzed out wrongness and it’s beautiful (wrong), but they’re still a band you need to see live. Anything can and does happen.
Kes Band started with noise, operating as a super group seven piece reigning in some assistance from Zond’s Justin Fuller on additional guitar and three backup singers/ occasional woodwind players. They were loud, shouty, a kind of ill defined electrified folk. Though throughout their set they played like seven different bands, genres became meaningless, leading one to wonder where the centre of this band really lies. But this kind of eccentricity and diversity is their appeal.
And then on the stroke of midnight. On the 10/10/10 the boredoms appeared for their yearly boredrum performance, this time on stage with 9 drummers. Wait a second…Oh that’s right the tenth drummer Yojiro Tatekawa started from the middle of the crowd, who were parted like the red sea as he was eventually hauled onto stage playing madly. The remainder of the drummers, Yoshimi, Zach Hill (Hella), Hisham Bharoocha (Soft Circle), Jeremy Hyman (Ponytail), Kid Millions (Oneida), Butchy Fuego (Pit er Pat), Piklet, the dude from Baseball (I think) and Ben Ely (Regurgitator) sounded thunderous, playing in unison. They’re reminiscent of the tradition of Taiko drumming in their discipline, arms raised together punctuating a thunderous beat. It was relentless, Eye whacking his staff across his two guitar mutations, at one point climbing his 7 neck guitar or flirting with his DJ pitch shifting, wailing maniacally into one of his three microphones, building crescendos and then letting the world fall apart. Then came the one song we knew, Acid Police from 1994’s Chocolate Synthesizer on fire with it’s huge guitar riff and the drummers sounded like elephants stampeding, the effect plastering our faces back like we were trapped in a giant wind tunnel. It was huge, monumental, quintessential. Then they walked off. The crowd, so devastated by this point could barely muster any applause, we thinned out but they weren’t done, returning for another 30 mins of percussion orientated mayhem. It was madness, it was ludicrous, but it was disciplined and it was beautiful, one of the most amazing musical experiences in this writer has ever come in contact with. But most of all it was big. Very very big.
Bob Baker Fish