Jan 23

Written by: Stephen
1/23/2009 7:56 PM 

... all of which segues nicely to Australia's first ever All Tomorrow's Parties event, curated by the venerable Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. The Sydney leg of ATP was officially part of Sydney Festival and took place on Cockatoo Island, the largest island is Sydney's harbour. The island has a chequered past - it's been used an imperial prison, a reformatory and most famously as a ship-building site. The remnants of its past are apparent - the old dry docks (built by convicts) are crumbling but the warehouses and unloading yards make fabulous concert venues. Four stages were employed for the festival, all with wonderfully evocative names - the Foundry was the main stage, the Shipbuilders a secondary stage just round the cliff face from the Foundry, the Barracks was a smaller stage on top of the island and the Turbine was an indoor dance venue.

Nick Cave has always been a contrary character. And so it was not a surprise to Short Cuts that, apart from the Seeds themselves, there was only one familiar name amongst the remaining 23 performing acts (that being Spiritualized). And so the day took on a "voyage of discovery" theme. To some I suspect that a rummage through Nick Caves' favourite records would be a dubious pleasure?

The first ferry left Circular Quay at 10.30am, with Short Cuts onboard with 2 fellow musical adventurers. The clouds threatened rain but soon cleared to a typically bright-blue-sky Sydney summer day. Soon after arrival, Hunter Dienna kicked the event off on the Barrack stage in sombre fashion. A male-female duo, they made dramatic but ultimately familiar music (they definitely have a few PJ Harvey records at home). A decision was quickly made that the Stabs (who had kicked off proceedings on the Shipbuilders stage) might be a more lively affair. Necking their beer bottles at 11.30am was suitably punk as was their ragged, riffy music. Their name suited them, though the shambolic nature of the vocals split opinion.

Having seen the Stabs through to the bitter end, Bridezilla on the Foundry was the new attraction. An all female Sydney band fronted by a saxophonist and violinist, they made pretty but insubstantial music. Again, PJ Harvey was an obvious influence. Next up came the Beaches. Another all female turn, Beaches were a more traditional 3 guitar and drums, rock'n'roll band with some shoe-gazy elements thrown in. All took turns singing but there seemed to be a lack of focus and their tunes drifted over the early afternoon crowd, some of whom took the opportunity to lie out and relax in the afternoon sunshine. (That looked like a fine idea - one we all employed during the Krautrock electro-drone of Harmonia later in the day).

From here, events took a definite turn for the better. Afrirampo were simply legendary (check out their cracking homepage here). Comprising one Japanese girl (Oni) on guitar and another (Pika) on drums, they produced a jaw-dropping 40 minutes of madness. Reminiscent of the White Stripes (but with a better drummer), Oni and Pika attempted to communicate in their limited English whilst the virtuosity of their playing need no explanation. They finished a too short set with a Nigerian chant (set to a chunky riff) - Oni carried off one of Pika's drums into the crowd and a melee formed around her as she belted out the rhythm. Eventually she made it back to the stage to rapturous applause. Great stuff!

 Dead Meadow were another find. Definitely born a few decades too long, this three piece from Washington DC ground out killer riff after killer melody. We even indulged them their drum solo because it was followed by a guitar riff dredged out of the soul of the Doors and the Dead. Cue silly smiles all round.

As the afternoon turned to evening, Spiritualised took to the stage. Jason Pierce was in fine voice considering his recent ill health and their set was comprised mostly of classics from 1997's magnificent Ladies and Gentlemen, We Are Floating in Space (a record that has not received the kudos it deserves since it's arguably the best record of that decade). The title track, Cop Shoot Cop and a stunning I Think I'm In Love reduced the crowd to a grooving whisper. In the midst of hearing so much new and challenging music, it was a pleasure to be reminded of my university days and to fall in love with Spiritualised all over again.

After a short-lived detour to blues guitarise James 'Blood' Ulmer on the Turbine stage (a muggy sound was letting him down), we settled in for the evening at the Foundry. The Saints played as energetically as a bunch of 50 year old former punks can do, I suppose. The Saints are lauded in Oz because they released the seminal I'm Stranded in 1976 before the Sex Pistols, the Damned or the Clash had their name on vinyl. Subsequently signed by EMI, they left for the UK and never returned to Oz as a group as they disintegrated before the end of the decade having churned out 3 punk records. Newly reformed and playing to an excited crowd of older punters, the Saints mugged their way through. It was decidedly unconvincing to these ears.

But, no matter. The Bad Seeds arrived on time at 8.30pm and launched an aural assault that was surely designed to annoy the neighbours (in fact, Cave made reference to some complaints that had been received from residents across the water in affluent suburbs of Balmain across the water...). The music was a more eloquent "Fuck You". Kicking off with a churning Dig! Lazarus Dig!, Cave and Warren Ellis (in particular) were simply extraordinary. Mixing in classics like Red Right Hand, Tupelo, Love Letter and Deanna with material from the wonderful new album, the Seeds reconfirmed that they are the best band ever produced from Antipodean shores.

But we must return to Warren Ellis. With his wildman beard and unkempt look, Ellis was an animal presence on stage. Cave would career around the stage like someone who's escaped from the ministry of silly walks whilst Ellis could throw dramatic shapes against the spotlights, often sheering the strings off his array of electric violins and miniature guitars. The guy was brilliant.

The evening was brought to a close by the quite dreadful 80s throwbacks, the Reels. Think of your aunty's favourite wedding band. They successfuly herded the stragglers onto the returning ferries by unleashing a risible, slowed-down, synthesized version of Creedence' classic Bad Moon Rising.

The organisers of Sydney's inaugural ATP struck gold in asking Nick Cave to curate. He produced a memorable, if challenging, lineup that maybe suffered only from a reliance on reformed Aussie bands. Afrirampo and Dead Meadow were significant discoveries whilst ATP confirmed that, on their day, the Bad Seeds rock like absolute demons.