From under his bushy moustache Cog’s lead singer and guitarist Flynn Gower declared, “I don’t know how the fuck we’re going to do it, but we’re going to try writing again.” This statement brought a roar from the crowd at 170 Russell that could’ve been heard in Cog’s hometown of Sydney or potential new hometown of Byron Bay. High fives and jumping hugs between friends and randoms ensued all over the packed out venue. Cog is not just playing live again after almost six years, there’s also an album to look forward to.
The excitement before the show was crazy. Cog had teased online about some sort of reunion and when the first dates were announced, they sold out almost immediately. So Cog released more dates, and then more again. On the second of two sold-out shows in Melbourne, the band was clearly overwhelmed and Flynn thanked the crowd, “We wondered, as always, ‘Will they come? Again?’ But you always do. You always come.” Other bands featuring Cog’s members like The Occupants had kept fans somewhat happy in the interim, but there was always a sense that a void had been left in Australia’s heavy rock landscape that only these three together could fill. Seeing it happen was something special.
Instrumental support act Sleepmakeswaves were energetic, positive and gave it everything. A mix of drifting, ethereal soundscapes and sudden jerky, choppy metal chunk-outs, their sound was huge and never static. They easily won over an already enthusiastic crowd.
Cog is not the band that split six years ago. It is the band from around ten years ago when the world was turning upside down, and these three blokes were offering a different vision. September 11 had happened, we’d gone to war in Afghanistan and Iraq, the sleepy shoppers were scared and civil rights were being stripped with little concern. Cog was angry. Like Australia’s Rage Against The Machine, they wanted you to be angry too. Watching them play those songs again on Friday night transported the eager audience back, making them wonder how far we’d come since. It isn’t a pretty picture. Like a devolution into Idiocracy, there are the faces of Pauline Hanson and Donald Trump, there is racism, oppression and inequality. Flynn seemed to feel the same frustration, lamenting before Moshiach on the continued lack of progress or recognition for indigenous peoples, “We need to fix it. It’s stopping us moving forward.”
The music was equally as strong as the messages. Lucius Borich illustrated with pure power, intensity and ingenuity why he remains one of Australia’s best drummers. Ned Kelly-bearded Luke Gower’s bass sound was massive and with his voice (and Lucius’) backing his brother Flynn, the three-piece were able to recreate the thick harmonies that created their success. The crowd sang almost every word to every song, so at times Flynn just lent back and smiled while the punters belted out Cog’s lyrics.
The set list was rammed with all the favourites, but The Spine and Silence is Violence were most epic. Dancey number, Open It Up changed up the tempo, while jam-outs at the end songs kept the crowd guessing. In a rare moment of error, Lucius messed up the middle of Real Life (to Flynn and Luke’s amusement), but recovered with his inclusion of the drum beat from Walk This Way and a drum solo, both of which received huge receptions. They played for over an hour and a half, with no encore. After the masterful No Other Way, they all said many thanks and waved, but Cog fans were happy to know that this time it was not a wave goodbye, more like see you soon.
BY JAMES RIDLEY
LOVED: Having Cog back
HATED: Realising how much the world needs Cog back
DRANK: MB
