Stop Making Sense (1984)
Stop Making Sense builds from a sparse stage and a cassette player into a triumphant, celebratory kaleidoscope of music and backup dancers and ridiculously oversized menswear.
Stop Making Sense builds from a sparse stage and a cassette player into a triumphant, celebratory kaleidoscope of music and backup dancers and ridiculously oversized menswear.
Like most punters heading to Soundwave at Brisbane’s RNA Showgrounds this weekend, I made some effort to dress the part. With my carefully-groomed beard and thick-rimmed glasses, I’m neither a metalhead nor a punk, but the combination of a black Refused T-shirt, contact lenses and a relatively unkempt beard served as concession to the hard…
I’ve recently come to realise that my taste in live music is closely aligned to my taste in cuisines. You see, when it comes to a meal out, I’d much prefer a feast with friends at an Indian restaurant or a tapas spread at a Spanish joint – or if I’m feeling lavish, a degustation…
A belated, brief review here. But I have to keep some sort of record of seeing my favourite band of all time – post-punk royalty, Wire – live. It’s clichéd to describe a band whose longevity has left their members with grey hair (if at all) as “playing like a younger band.” But Wire played…
This isn’t going to be a review of the Big Day Out. Unless you have a press pass with VIP access and the like, I don’t think it’s really possible to review a music festival. Even that hypothetical journalist isn’t really covering the whole festival, with four or five groups playing simultaneously across the venue…
There was something volcanic about Future of the Left’s show last night. The sweltering heat in a tightly packed crowd and the smell of bushfire smoke in the air contributed, but the fierce, white-hot rock that erupted from the stage was the main factor. The band channelled something primitive, Andy Falkous straddling the stage like…
It’s very easy to slip into cliché and hyperbole when describing an extraordinary live music performance, tossing around “transcendental” and “a religious experience” like you’re the first idiot with a word processor to connect a crowd of people singing in unison to a church gathering belting out a hymn or two. But, dammit, clichés are…
Japandroids’ gig at The Zoo formed a well-articulated argument for seeing your favourite bands at their own shows, rather than festivals. I found Japandroids enjoyable but unexceptional at Laneway earlier in the year, but their ninety minute set (at their last Australian show) last night exceeded all expectations. After a loose Velociraptor set (which was…
Purity Ring’s music has an intensely personal feel, like a peek at the scrapbook/diary entries of a troubled teenage girl. It’s fitting, then, that their live show felt hand-made. The stage was draped with papier-mâché lanterns, and the music was produced by a custom-built tree-instrument, featuring drum-pads that produced xylophonic notes and flashed with their…
Music festivals are usually a carefully planned calendar event: I decide very quickly whether I’m going to attend, then pick up tickets pre-sale. The 2013 Soundwave festival didn’t grab my attention when the lineup was announced: a handful of bands I liked but too few to justify forking out $200. Fast forward six months to…