The night’s first act was Melbourne artist Harts (with band) who made allusions to the ’80s by incorporating wailing guitar work and paddy stadium synths. The guitar fiddling made me think of Mark Knopfler in his headband days, with synth punctuation that spoke of attention paid to Prince. His sound is stylistically defined and inherently divisive, but the performance was for anyone to enjoy. Harts’ intensity was impressive considering the small crowd gathered; he sung with utmost conviction and played guitar solos as if possessed. Had the room been full of people avidly praising the band then I might have perceived it as showy, but in this setting Harts just seemed to love the very fact of doing it.
Jeremy Neale and his onstage henchmen operate according to the aesthetics of the British Invasion. All four were dressed in turtle-necks and blazers and moved as if they’ve been cultivated on Eddie Cochrane and Bill Haley. Their tunes largely strive for a pre flower-power British-pop sound, but it was the grittier elements of the set that worked better. Evidence of other disciples of the Liverpudlian-inspired zeitgeist, such as Elvis Costello and The Libertines, came out in Neale’s dirtier numbers and the band were more believable inhabiting this branch of British guitar-pop. Overall however, the act was a little too centred on a specific motif that Neale’s voice couldn’t melodiously execute and it felt somewhat contrived.
Sydney five-piece The Preatures are out in support of their freshly released debut EP Shaking Hands. It is a strong collection of songs, but seeing them live emphasised their dynamic interaction and individual nuances, which can be boxed-in on record. The band’s two vocalists exchanged lead duties with symbiotic ease. Gideon Bensen has a rebel-may-care character, and his vocals ranged from woofing hysteria to a focused serenade. When the spotlight switched to Isabella Manfredi she conjured misty incantations that befuddled the senses, inciting mesmerised submission. The Preatures’ rhythm section enhanced the band’s sound without attempting to nose to the front of the frame. Leather pants wearing bassist Thomas Champion played with whimsical precision and drummer Luke Davison crucially managed the energy whipping across the stage, pushing it in a new direction when he saw fit. Similarly Jack Moffitt is a very skilled guitar player and at all times, as he travelled through sound textures and covered comprehensive fretboard territory, his playing furthered the songs’ impact rather than massaging his ego.
Manfredi’s lead moments, such as Threat and the sweeping new single Pale Rider, were powerful declarations, delivered with sultry class. Bensen put his guitar aside to wander around the stage for Young Brave Me, allowing his unstrained lower register to communicate with melodic clarity. First single lifted from the EP, Take A Card, is a burst of juicy blues which had many people dancing and vocally interacting with the band.
The room wasn’t packed but no one’s attention wavered throughout the show, an indication of the growing number of followers heeding The Preatures’ gospel.
BY AUGUSTUS WELBY
LOVED: The Birthday Party tunes played between sets.
HATED: That the room wasn’t appropriately full and outrageous.
DRANK: Brooklyn Lager (for the first time outside of Brooklyn).
