En route to the venue for Confidence Man my partner did a little artist research and felt compelled to ask, “Are they jerks or are they putting it on?”
Confidence Man / 1300 / Big Wett
Northcote Theatre
6 August 2022
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It certainly seems they like taking the piss, at the very least. Their ensuing show hardly came any closer to revealing their true identities. Northcote Theatre has only been hosting shows for a very short time now and it shows, it’s a great renovation for bands. There are oodles of space and the mezzanine, bar access and viewing angles are all exceptional.
As we entered we were swept into the band room in an avalanche of scrambling youth enticed by the pounding, pounding techno music of Big Wett. If I had to narrow down this experience: perhaps some cross between Peaches and something obnoxious that Aaron LaCrate/Hollertronix or Girl Talk might slip into a mixtape. Closing number Eat My Ass did at least raise a smirk from this here fountain of maturity.
Second support 1300 were far more enticing. Having sampled their recent mixed language (Korean / English) album ‘Foreign Language’ earlier that day and often enjoying Korean and Japanese rappers, I was anticipating their set. I really like the linguistic swingers party they engage in, swapping language mid-verse or sentence. To say they brought a smattering of energy would be a distinct understatement. Any group with a song devoted to the Park Chan-Wook silver screen gem Oldboy certainly has my attention.
It should be said from the get-go that the lead act of the evening, Confidence Man (in no way affiliated with Maggie Haberman), were rapturously received. I was somewhat taken aback through the evening by the crowd’s exuberance, the mad shoving rushes in various directions, the rehearsed Instagram story performances, and the prolific sneaker stomping which had started to get my goat (definitely a no-no with a hip hop group on the bill). If exuberant prior, when Confidence Man emerged with blazing LEDs and David Byrne tailored shoulders the sold-out attendance collectively – and this is the technical term – lost their shit. Janet Planet (in no way affiliated with Van Morrison), Sugar Bones and co had no hesitation spreading the catchy fluff vibes of ‘Toy Boy’.
I had felt TILT, without being derivative, contains a plethora of referential moments and I had hoped their live performance might crystallise some.
‘Woman’ gifted all with a frantic aerobics video and far better music. While contemplating the hilarious (depending on who you ask) cheese E-Rotic singles from the 90s someone made a more insightful comparison to Buck 65’s spoof track ‘Super Pretty Naughty’. On reflection, while there were any number of retro cliches you could throw at this cheeky ditty, that Buck 65 single seems insightful into the vibe of Confidence Man’s show.
It was apparent that Confidence Man are snappy and proficient performers. ‘Break It Bought It’ was determined to break through the ruckus. Soon more staid 90s dance rhythms circled the gulch before the oscillator and exuberant trance licks forced all the dusty cowboys in attendance to wave em like they just don’t care about their horse (in no way affiliated with Wayne and Shuster). Janet Planet’s light-up Madonna cones shone upon a retro keys line and we (as in those few not vertically bounding) found ourselves standing on a trampoline in an earthquake.
Leading with a Schweppes synth bubble a la peak Chemical Brothers, ‘Angry Girl’ itself is a delirious mash of James Murphy (LCD Soundsystem) with splashes of Talking Heads, no wave, and Arthur Russell funk. This and ‘Push Up’ are likely the most obvious and tempting tracks on TILT. We were soon treated to a pectoral reveal greeted with a reception hard to imagine off Oxford Street as strobe explosions grew more bountiful and the trampolining increasingly manic.
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The remaining songs and encore were received with floor shaking, hands in the air rapture. Frankly I haven’t witnessed such frantic vertical pogoing since a flock (mob? murder?) of Hell’s Angels erupted at the start of a Rancid show many eons ago. The Jack and Cokes of so many furry, stout and leather-clad fellows, full just moments before, went up like Apollo 13, and came down in a fragrant sticky disaster, much as I assume these ecstatic kids did when tomorrow came. It’s always fun until Tuesday, right?
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