In what was possibly the greatest matched lineup this year, Fuck The Fitzroy Doom Scene, Elder and Earthless brought some serious cosmic crooning to the Corner Hotel. It was a feast for the head bangers – one worth losing your hearing for.
Fuck The Fitzroy Doom Scene played a punishing opening set that was so strong you could nearly mistake them for headliners. Howling guitars, rolling fast beats and pervasive solos cut through the venue like psychedelic pythons. With thunderous stoner vibes and more key changes than a locksmith, Fuck The Fitzroy Doom Scene left many punters wondering how their set was going to be topped.
Elder made short work of that conundrum, blowing in with a warped storm of riffs and dust. The set opened with scooping guitars, fuzzed bass and slow rhythms, before each instrument flew off into a dirty, psych drenched mess. Of special note were the talents of bass player Jack Donovan, ripping out these savage, intricate and upbeat riffs – untamed yet technical like a lab experiment gone horribly wrong. It was poetry in motion, hell, borderline pornographic if you focused on the intricate work of each of the three instrumentalists.
As soon as Earthless began their set, a great existential question was posed. There are few things in this world that can cause a full grown adult to scrunch their face into a ball, recoiling in sheer confusion at what they’re observing. Earthless are one of those things. They managed to create a rich, groove soaked soundscape full of long and flowing songs as barren as a desert, yet somehow teeming with life. Slow, rhythmic introductions would quickly snap into thrashing psych metal jams. It all evolved so quickly, shifting from calmness into cyclonic blasts of technical drumming and noodling bass lines that still maintained a palpable groove. The crowd reacted to this in numerous ways, some opting to mosh, others pulverising their necks with a faithful head bang, others just watching in awe.
Guitarist Isiah Mitchell would often stand and shred his guitar as if in a trance, his eyes closed and head nodding. Drummer Mario Rubalcaba didn’t let up for a second, surely pushing his body to its absolute limits. Their show comprised a series of infallible 20 minute songs before an encore of Hendrix’s Foxy Lady. Watching a bunch of metal heads working their stuff to a ‘60s rock track was the perfect closer.
BY THOMAS BRAND
Loved: Shaking Mario’s hand.
Hated: Someone farted during Elder. Really draws you back into the real world.
Drank: In the moshpit. Cheers Mikey.
