Jeff The Brotherhood utilised just three guitar strings, a drumkit and one microphone to deliver an onslaught of jaw-wagging noise. The two brothers from Nashville, Tennessee covered a lot of ground within the two-piece blues rock domain. They slinked into Black Sabbath pyjamas on Heavy Days, playing the gestural riffs with trampoline-jumping enthusiasm; turned towards garage punk for Bone Jam, resembling The Stooges with the lighter la-la-la quality of The Ramones; and garnished it all with succinct melodies and lyrical silliness gleaned from ’90s power-pop (exemplified on Hey Friend and Sixpack). Jeff The Brotherhood checked into these institutional sub-genres without even a tinge of a “we are the saviours of rock” self-signalling. The show was conducted in the name of fun and the mission was accomplished with drunken perspiration-drenched success. Even when Whatever I Want got deep into droning psychedelia it wasn’t an exclusive trip, it was a shared experience.
For a couple of proud boozehounds, JTB have their shit together. Being a two-piece isn’t a restriction and you could feel the freedom of the arrangement. They’ve both got chops, which carried them through the designated areas for improvised fiddling. There was at least one instance when they lost their way amid the frenzy and fell out of sync but the odd misstep is an element of frivolous primal release. Because it’s intended to be bent in the first place things can’t go too far askew and JTB wouldn’t be half as much fun if it was a calculated venture. When one of guitarist Jake’s many journeys onto the hands of the moshpit hurled him back on stage with not much gymnastic finesse, drummer Jamin was equipped (and seemingly warned by past experience) to cover for the jolt in fluency.
Melbourne audiences’ reputation for reserved contemplation was stamped on and thrown out the window during JTB’s set. The rowdy full-strength crowd in The Corner didn’t give a twinkle of thought to social propriety. The lack of inhibitions emanating from the stage meant you just had to shake your head around and allow your limbs to speak.
Meanwhile, there was an oddly scarce amount of activity during King Gizzard And The Lizard Wizzard’s support set. This didn’t stop the seven-piece drawing allusions to the Kelly Gang by making a gutsy amount of noise. The fearsome whip of their tuneful combat did garner unwavering attention from the almost-full room. Having only seen them in smaller/dingier environs, the striking power of the Corner PA was a welcome emphasis and it was hard to look away for much more than a cheeky swig of beer. It was a vocal affront, with guitarist Joe Walker and harmonica player Ambrose Kenny-Smith boosting the impact of the delay soaked main vocals of Stu Mackenzie. Their Reatards cover was alarmingly brash and stupidly fun, but it did seem like role play. The discernibly melodic Elbow and Muckraker imprinted their strength and the three-way vocal orchestration of Uh Oh, I Called Mum was a harassing high.
BY AUGUSTUS WELBY
LOVED: Roughly four guitar amps and a pounding chest of guitar effects that stretched JTB’s guitar volume far as can be.
HATED: Big men standing on me. But it’s a’ight.
DRANK: Ice cold ale .
