Corner Hotel, Saturday September 5
Although they come from opposite sides of the country, Tired Lion and Oslow both symbolised the great things emerging from the outer reaches of the alternative rock spectrum in Australia right now; churning out noisy guitar and sharp hooks to an eager and attentive audience. As for cult favourites Self Defense Family, the old Propagandhi adage “less talk, more rock” would work wonders for them – the sextet often lost themselves in their uniquely-intense take on art-punk, but lost momentum whenever frontman Patrick Kindlon went on one of his rambling now-infamous tangents.
The Bennies have become a staple of the Weekender. Does it really need to be said why? Theirs is one of the most exciting and fun live shows one could hope to encounter. A set full of their best-known tracks was enhanced by a massive song from their forthcoming LP, which saw the band unleash their inner Black Sabbath with gargantuan results. The energy in the room bled into Iron Chic’s set, who were making up for lost time on their first-ever tour. The sing-alongs came loud and fast, and a packed-out Corner Hotel got out just as much as they put in.
The Reverence Hotel, Sunday September 6
Sunday began quietly and unassumingly, which worked just fine for the sorely hungover among us. Jess Locke, Camp Cope and Jen Buxton set up shop in the Rev’s parking lot; each showcasing their outstanding songwriting abilities to warmly-receptive early arrivals. Camp Cope, in particular, proved to be ones to watch; with the sharp and keenly-observant lyricism of firebrand wunderkind Georgia Maq leading a top-notch rhythm section.
With a dozen acts on offer, Sunday at the Rev hosted the most diverse line-up a Weekender gig has ever seen. Where else could one go from the hip-shaking soul of The Sugarcanes – led by vocalist Lucy Wilson, who officially nailed the highest note of the entire weekend – to the scratchy, cacophonous fury of Batpiss, fresh from a tour with The Drones, by simply walking 50 metres from one stage to the other? Other highlights included a returning Mere Women – perhaps the most proudly avant-garde act on Poison City’s roster – getting some bodies moving; as well as Apart From This giving a preview of their forthcoming second album in the backroom. Hint: it’s going to be fucking loud. It’s also going to be really, really good.
Despite some technical difficulties, Deep Heat powered through a half-hour of their visceral, garage-dwelling post-punk with aplomb, closing out the front bar in a forthright and definitive manner. After ending last year gently with sets from Wil Wagner and Lincoln Le Fevre, it was quite a contrast to have The Meanies and Clowns taking out the final slots of the weekend. Still, it managed to work – after the former flaunted their veteran status with a fun run-through of favourites, the latter arrived with all the subtlety of a swinging hammer. Forget about the Sunday vibes, Clowns were here to fuck shit up. And that they did, with multiple stage-dives and a heaving pit screaming back every word in the band’s face. After all and sundry had made the most of the weekend’s final moments, the amps switched off, the conversation flowed back into the beer-garden and we all looked about, exhausted, wondering when we’ll get to do this all again.
By DAVID JAMES YOUNG
Photo of The Sugarcanes by Ian Laidlaw
Loved: The community surrounding Poison City Records.
Hated: It was all over so quickly.
Drank: Lemon lime and bitters – The Rev’s are delicious.
