Melbourne’s Beaches have supported so many bands we have seen over the last few years that it’s great to see that they have won hearts and become firm favourites with many locals. Showcasing tunes of their latest album She Beats, the hard rockin’ gals from Melbourne have clearly evolved, effortlessly dealing a fine set of smooth psychedelic rock.
In town to showcase their sixth and arguably most popular album Monomania, there is a lot of expectation in the room as hyped punters gather to see Deerhunter strut their stuff. Playing at volumes that could move the Earth, the group start their set with the narcotic swirl of Earthquake. If you weren’t already deafened, frontman Bradford Cox wants the volume turned up. While he seems to be following Ziggy Stardust’s instructions to play at maximum volume, he’s wearing a shaggy platinum blonde wig that suggests Bowie circa Let’s Dance.
The group led us through the Neon Junkyard before returning to the heavy shoegaze dreaminess of Halcycon Digest with Don’t Cry and Revival. While the crowd zones out, the band concentrates on getting it right but seem to have acquired the kind of boredom that comes with playing the same set list night after night. Cox starts to talk a lot in between songs. He maintains a difficult relationship with the audience shifting from utterly charming to completely alienating. “People accuse me of being childish, attention seeking and deliberately annoying” is perhaps the most revealing thing Cox says all night. “Did you people pay $60 or something to come here and chill out and appreciate art or something?” fully aware that he wants to just wind us up. “You should just all go back to listening to triple j and that Doctor,” he screams.
Cox eventually settles down and they deal the thumping ruckus of T.H.M before drifting into the metallic twangy atmospherics of Rainwater Cassette Exchange that beautifully collides into Nothing Ever Happens. It all yields to the deafening crescendo of Helicopter that brings us down dazed, confused, and spellbound. The pace slackens again and they play Jingle Bells and Nirvana’s Smells Like A Teen Spirit as Cox phones his mum over the P.A. A slowed down version of Monomania concludes the night and it leaves behind the nasty garage rock flavours for something altogether sweeter.
BY THE SIDEMAN
Loved: Bradford Cox’s platinum blonde wig.
Hated: That this gig left my ears ringing for days.
Drank: Water.
