Roni Size & Dynamite MC @ The Empire, Brisbane (21/02/09)

Scaling the Empire stairs past the dull thud of the middle bar to reach the moon bar, it was interesting to compare the atmospheres. As we arrived, de la Haye hadn’t taken long to warm up and was already filling the floor in record time. When she supportedShapeshifter last year it was clear that she had a good eye for the crowd, and in turn a good ear for the music that would fit the mood of the room perfectly. Tonight’s set was very different from what I’d heard previously, but once again it fit the atmosphere perfectly.

De la Haye had the perceptive skill and sense to realise not to blast the crowd with hardcore DnB beats too early on, instead she excelled in spending her set gearing them up for what was to come. Unfortunately that set did not last as long as it should have, as de la Haye had to make way half an hour early. I always enjoy her sets so it was particularly disappointing to have it cut short, however it proved that she didn’t need the full hour and a half to get the night started as by the time D-Ron and Freddy Phumetook over the floor was full, the heat was hot and the room was ready to go.

Along with Lincoln and MC Plush, the aforementioned provided an immense warm up, to the point where some of the more uninitiated in a night dedicated to DnB looked like they might fade before Roni even showed. Luckily such blistering sets, that only had the occasional slippery moment, were so intense they had everyone upright and moving right up until the main act. Even the stalwarts of immovability at the back were nodding their heads. For everyone else, though, the air couldn’t have gotten any thicker with anticipation, and as soon as Roni Size stepped through the door – long before he had a chance to take to the turntables – a massive cheer went up and it was time for the night to hit fifth gear.

He came out with all smiles, only briefly pausing to drink the crowd in before getting down to it. He left the vocal proceedings to Reprazent cohort Dynamite MC, who had the task of whipping the crowd into a frenzy. While Roni’s focused but relaxed face could only be seen vaguely lit up by the blue glow of his Mac laptop, it was Dynamite who really defined the gig. His lyrical skills were soundly on display and rang out through moon bar to the delight of everyone in the room. There was, of course, the old Jamrock “murder” routine that’s popular with ragga MCs around the world, but it was used to good effect here, and not so much that it got tedious. Aside from that, Dynamite was on top form and always moved with the fast-paced beats that Size was doling out.

The art of good drum and bass is that even though you may be completely knackered and feel like you can’t go on, the next swell overrides your brain telling you to sit down and recuperate, and instead it forces you back out onto the floor. Indeed, as my other half said, “You go see dance when you want to pick up, you go see dnb when you want to dance.” Roni spent his two hour set working over some old favourites, some nice new tunes and some leftfield choices, such as an interesting bassy dubstep reworking of Seven Nation Army. The focus however was on the raw energy of lashing drum and bass tracks that never let up throughout the two hours.

It is easy to see why Roni is the best of the best when it comes not only to DnB in general, but more specifically his DJing, because it was extremely difficult to leave the floor even when the parched throat needed refreshment. With a new album coming, and another Reprazent release coming also, 2009 is going to quite a year for Roni Size, and if Saturday night was anything to go by it’s going to be massive.

Kid Koala @ The Step Inn, Brisbane (15/02/2009)

Upon arrival at the Stepp Inn the Terntable Jediz, were in full flow and seemed to be having fun scratch battling against each other over the top of a nice selection of hip hop greats. There were some nice turntable skills on display, if at times a little distorted due to some over-amped levels. It was DJ Sheep who must have noticed that their set was becoming a bit directionless as he took over the reigns and showed off some of his individual skills, displaying some well developed proficiency when working over two of the same record.

Soon enough the crowd were treated to some turntablism expertise with the sounds of early 90s hip hop classics providing the backing track and giving the skills on display some added clout. DJ Damage then took a turn and showed off a good eye for rhythm and style, with a nicely mashed together slice of Coldcut’s Beats & Pieces gelling with aRapture vocal.

It was Sheep however who really led the Jediz through the night, aware that he had to keep the crowd engaged and pumped for Kid Koala. This worked for the most part, and playing old favourites such as Insane in the Membrane did do their job of getting the few people who inhabited the floor moving. As the back catalogue of hip hop classics ended, it was the turn of the back catalogue of reggae greats to keep the floor moving.

It was clear that Sheep had gauged the mood of the room pretty well; after his first attempt at crowd participation failed he simply stopped the track and tried again, and they were getting the hang of repeatedly shouting ‘Ho!” by the time the Jediz had to pack up and make way for the Canadian Godfather of Turntablism, but it was clear that although the growing crowd were conveying a sense of restraint, they were willing to have fun.

There couldn’t have been, then, a better time for Kid Koala (AKA Eric San) to come on. I’ve never seen a Kid Koala set lacking in energy and sheer enjoyment, and tonight was no different. No matter what mood the crowd is in or what kind of form a Kid Koala set takes, there is always fun at its foundation. One particular reason why I enjoy a DJ of San’s calibre is the fact that he can do with records what others can only dream about doing on their Mac with the latest music software.

The sad thing is that such DJs are fast becoming a rare breed as many would rather choose to bring their entire music collection in one handy to pack CD wallet and spend their six hour set loading, mixing, and even scratching using the touch of a few buttons. As the man himself said, “I like playing good old fashioned records on good old fashioned record players,” which is just one of the reasons why Kid Koala is special.

He started off the set strongly with some Slew Test blistering greatness from Your Mom’s Favourite DJ which had the room on its feet early. But sadly this didn’t last. San, therefore, was clearly going to have his work cut out for him if he didn’t want those feet to stop.

It is always interesting to watch a DJ reading the audience and reacting in turn to them. Often times the case is, in Brisbane, that DJs have to work for their adulation. San, however, saw this more as an opportunity than a discouraging challenge. Crying out, “clap your hands” to the crowd as the sample relayed the same sentiment repeatedly was not enough for Kid Koala. He is only satisfied that you’re having fun when he’s in the crowd actually reminding people how to. Another rare quality in a DJ.

A fault more of the crowd then, that when the impeccable Skany Panky was brought out it was a little too early. This funky ska jazz gem is possibly the most fun on Kid’s third release and so was somewhat lost on a Brisbane crowd that needed to be reminded how to clap their hands. Kid obviously saw this simply as part of the opportunity rather than a reason to dilute his set, and in so doing didn’t let the crowd dampen the enthusiasm of the improvised scratching he laid over the track.

This strategy soon hit paydirt and it took the form of the soon-to-be-trademarked Turntable Thumb Wrestling Battle…with Foley! Using a very nice little pocket sampler and two willing participants, Kid Koala refereed a thumb war acted out on one of the turntables whilst adding his own schlock sound effects using the nifty portable gadget. It was a fair fight and only a needle came away with minor battle scars.

After the crowd’s cheers declared the winner it was straight back into the beats. The tactic had clearly paid off as the crowd found new energy and San certainly squeezed as much of it out of them as he could. The rest of the set was a beautifully constructed shambles of big beats all mixed up with jazzy tunes.

Throwing in a nicely hectic Roboshuffle was a particularly enjoyable touch as it was the first Kid Koala track I was introduced to back in the good old days of John Peel. The track also showed off San’s technical brilliance also. He had already shown, from his skill in mixing between two Moon River records, the liquidity with which the fader can seamlessly move between the two. But with chopping between the two Roboshuffle samples with a speed and unmatched technical proficiency such as his, San showed that he can maintain this fluidity in his scratching whilst jacking up the speed six times faster than other DJs dream about.

The night ended with a wonderful concotion consisting of that old crowd pleaser Drunk Trumpet, a choice example of how awesome Daedalus is, and the wonderful marriage between Jessica Rabbit and Amon Tobin’s Natureland. This encore perfectly summed up San’s many different styles and influences, but more importantly, it displayed his mastery over all of them.

He left the stage looking enlivened and contented; the challenge had been well met and the opportunity well and truly taken. Not a bad way to spend your last night in Oz.

Bastard Experimental Music Festival @ The Globe, Brisbane (12/09/08)

I had been told that Bastard was going to be something very different, and I didn’t want to go wholly unprepared, so I boned up on some Monster Zoku Onsomb! demos I had lying around and gave The Tango Saloon another whirl before heading out. The aforementioned were to be the highlights of the evening, but I was still unprepared for the lashing my aural senses would get by other acts on the line-up. You know you’re in for an interesting night in the Valley when, on your way to the venue, you step in someone else’s blood. But whatever had become of the former owner of such vital fluid, it probably wasn’t as bad as what happened to the dignity of a particular member of one of the acts.

As I walked down the steps of The Globe the first thing I saw was a clown carrying a bass amp through a curtain of bubbles, so I was assured I had at least got the right place. A town crier from somewhere announced that Crab Smasher would be starting, so I hastily consumed the whiskey I happened to find in my hand, and hurried towards the ‘main’ stage. I had caught them briefly at Summer Winds, but the impression left on me then was quickly dispelled and replaced with a better one when they started up atBastard. I can appreciate any band that boasts two drummers (especially when you consider the size of the stage at The Globe) and they were used to great effect, producing a sound that, I was reliably informed by a nearby bohemian, was described as “alternative noise grunge”. I couldn’t think up a better term, so made a note to use it in my review.

When their one track set finished it was back to the front stage, stopping off to acquire another whiskey on the way, where Trouble In Paradise were doing what they do best, namely crouching over very small record players and amps that produced the noise you make when you’re tuning your television and you’ve left the volume up. The lead singe…shouter added another layer to Trouble’s set, namely a very very shouty one. When listening to experimental music, I often find watching the crowd to be much more interesting than the performers and the crowd were looking as amusingly confused as I was expecting.

After dulling the senses somewhat with another whiskey, it was promptly back to the main stage to catch Silent Partners. Unfortunately their name came to resemble pithy irony as their dreadfully executed sound check (which distinctly lacked much sound) lasted longer than their set. The band consisted of a novelty assortment of characters that included a beatboxing terrorist whose orange jumpsuit suggested he had spent time in Guantanamo but whose balaclava alluded to Irish Republican loyalties, a fairly accurate portrayal of Ledger’s Joker when he dressed up as a nurse, a Robert Smith look-alike who couldn’t decide whether he wanted to be in Spinal Tap or The Libertines, and Norman Bates wearing a gimp mask.

A farcical scene unfolded as the fifteen-strong group attempted to get their instruments and vocal chords in order but unfortunately technology was not on their side and they remained for the most part disorganised and scrambling for sound. It was looking very likely that the only performance was going to come from the increasingly infuriated hissy fits the Libertine was having, but finally a compromise was reached and the set got under way. Unfortunately the compromise was that microphones, keyboards and a trumpet didn’t work, leaving half of the members with little or nothing to do for most of the set.

As the libertine tried to tell them all what to do, the nurse ran around ranting into other peoples’ microphones, but at least the terrorist looked like he was enjoying himself. Eventually it all got too much for the libertine and he stormed off stage, but not before screaming, “fuck off all of you.” This, apparently, was the end. The set mirrored the band left on stage; frustrated, lacking, and short.

Unfortunately it seems to be indicative of Brisbane’s alternative underground for a band of more than six members to overpower the sound system, to the point where only two thirds of the band has power. The result of such technical failings, as exampled perfectly by Silent Partners, is a band left in disarray and chaos, and such a band will eat each other.

While such shenanigans were going on I had dipped in and out of the main stage (not forgetting to pass ‘Go’ and collect my whiskey) to see what kind of sounds No Guruwere making. They appeared to have given themselves the task of investigating the nature of sound using objects that were as small as they were rudimentary. I recall plates being used as amplifiers, tiny LP players, and the smallest bugle I’ve ever seen. The member of the band playing a metal brick covered in electrodes was only overshadowed in his performance by the guy who seemed to do nothing but take data tapes out of their cases whilst holding a Dictaphone. So far this was the most polished set of the night.

I had to leave No Guru to their everyday household orchestra as the first highlight of the evening were about to set up. The Tango Saloon are a difficult band to describe generically, and an even more difficult band to number as they incorporate members from about ten other bands including Monsieur Camembert and Darth Vegas. Everything during the sound check was working so far so it was looking good already. When they came on, the crowd’s appreciation was borne more out of relief than anything else, and everyone settled in for a reliable mix of gypsy folk, Parisian chic, and spaghetti western.

This was to be the band’s Brisbane launch of their latest album Transylvania and understandably enough they opened with the title track. A sleuth of a song, the undercover rhythm guitar slithered its way around the tune before languishing in its own self-made percussionist ramblings, all topped off with an aggressively expert rhythmic accordion. Then Kiss of Death showed you that you can never have enough xylophone. Danny Heifetz showed his percussionist skills as he pounded the xylophonic keys and led the rest of the band into the intimidating transition with pounding drums care of Alon Ilsar and Marcello Maio’s masterful accordion skills.

The Tango Saloon have a great talent for one minute letting a frantic folk mash up take control and then instantly yet seamlessly turn it into a smooth and laid back samba. One moment a doom-mongering piano stirs up images of being chased my animatronic sharks but then a beautiful but almost violent transition will transport you to a cafe on a city street watching the nightlife go by as a rumba reminiscent of the Requiem for a Dream soundtrack intermissions plays with the scene.

They didn’t only play tracks from Transylvania and it was good to hear The Man With the Bongos. It does what it says on the tin, the bongo-fuelled intro leads in an electronica double bass and eventually the rest of the band join in with a sound that wouldn’t look out of place on the Bullitt soundtrack. Then, as the band are so brilliantly want to do, Steve McQueen racing through the streets of San Francisco is immediately mutated into something more reminiscent of an old eastern European jig. But before you can try and compile a clever description of the type of music you’re listening, you’re shuffled off to something Sergio Leone would have used in a heartbeat. Then back to a McQueen-esque climactic finale and you vaguely remember thinking this was going to be a laid back set, and not something that assaults the senses in a marvellous way.

As the rapturous applause farewells the Sydney maestros, I nip back to the front stage to briefly catch Sugar Logic. I described Trouble In Paradise as shouty, which in retrospect was harsh, for Sugar Logic take that title with ease. They had three vocalists, one doing your average, run-of-the-mill screaming incoherently into the mic you’d expect from an experimental music festival, and another had resorted to simple trying to swallow his own mic. Unfortunately he failed. Cymbals were stamped out of shape, a small bass drum was trashed, and the band ended up trying to cannibalise their own set up. This, as the looks on the faces of the small crowd that had gathered suggested, had gone beyond music. It was time for a swift whiskey and hop skip and jump back to catch the beginning of MZO.

This was what everyone had been waiting for and in a blinding flurry of strobes, colour, smoke and sound they immerged. The two delightfully pleasing on the eye leading ladies Miss P.Leisure and Sharkie Bubba came out scanning the crowd with their headset green lasers which had the desired effect and looked very cool. Then the imposing and always hilarious figure of Senor Tasty Taste comes out and it’s straight into the pounding hardcore grime.

First up was the title track from their new album Earth Eaters. Kiki ILL, the real brains behind the operation, has added more beats to this release and not simply stuck to his samples and mash ups. Miss P. Leisure also features more on the psychedelically enhanced vocals, or at least she would have if the sound at The Globe had have been up to scratch. Unfortunately the technical demons plagued her for a while, but instead of stalking off in a huff, she just put more of her energy and enthusiasm into dancing.

MZO’s brilliant use of ridiculous choreography was wonderful to behold and heightened the whole live experience. If you hadn’t have been paying attention, you wouldn’t have really noticed the sound problems; the stage was so busy with fabulous costumes and pumping beats that there was enough to take in already. Not even when the sound cut out altogether were MZO’s spirits dampened, they simply turned to telling bad jokes untilPleasure Cramps kicked and things were turned up a notch.

It’s easy to spot the influences MZO use so brilliantly for their own ends. They are reminiscent of an alien race of B52s trapped in a 1950s schlock horror movie direct by Richard D. James. The short, fast and loud bounding grime-fuelled breaks of Pleasure Cramps sums this up very well as it captures the spirit of a B52s Love Shack-style jig but then folds in on itself in the hardest of hardcore psy-trance implosions you could imagine.

A personal highlight for me however came in the form of _sTinkerbell; the grimey electronica driving breaks coupled with the fantastic choreography of Tasty, Leisure and Bubba made for a sight I won’t forget in a hurry. The track itself is a brilliant example of a simple hardcore rhythm played with and distorted until it resembles something easy to enjoy and more importantly easy to dance to.

Under the thin veneer of a novelty band with their ludicrous but wonderfully over the top costumes and their out of this world dance moves lies an outfit that can actually produce some great dance music in its purest form. This is simply music you want to dance to, and it makes you want to have fun. Ironic that the band who dressed up the most and had the most vivacious approach to their performance, came off displaying the least pretence.

This was their last gig in Australia before they shimmied off on their European tour. I get the feeling that the closer they progress across the continent towards the UK, the better the sound systems will be and the bigger the crowds will become. They certainly deserve a proper dancehall full of hardcore loving maniacs, and not a converted cinema that struggles with more than one keyboard.

Shapeshifter @ The Zoo, Brisbane (07/09/08)

The last time Shapeshifter put their mark upon Brisbane was at last year’s Parklife. That set blew everyone in attendance away – from the front row diehards to everyone lining the top of the slope at Botanic Gardens. Needless to say, Sunday night’s show at The Zoo was highly anticipated. Kiwi ex-pats and Australian fans alike all geared up to finish off the weekend with a night of drum ‘n’ bass Brisbanites are rarely treated to.

I was gutted to be too late in arriving to catch Dreadford, but was thankful to have witnessed a blistering set by de la Haye. The NZ born Junglette, who luckily for us made a home in Brisbane, was the perfect set up for the main attraction. The floor swiftly filled to near capacity after only about 15 minutes of her opening the set, something I’ve rarely seen before. Her blend of hard and fast DnB is applied to a tech-step that’s as rich in its heavy drum loops as it is in pounding electronic riffs. As she fires in a left-field but superb DnB reworking of Icky Thump, I’m left wondering why I haven’t managed to see her before. As the clock strikes 10, de la Haye’s last liquid DnB climax has sufficiently whipped the crowd into a frenzy and leads them perfectly into the Christchurch five-piece.

At the mere hint that their set has begun, and before they’ve set a foot on the stage, the crowd starts screaming and a penetrating bass heartbeat reverberates around the room. Naturally, as soon as Paora and the boys walk on the crowd lose it and it’s straight down to business. However, it’s not until New Day Come blasts through the speakers that everyone really gets into it. Looking on from the sidelines, the mass of bobbing heads and waving hands looks like a perfectly choreographed scene you’d expect to see during an Olympic opening ceremony. The room was briefly permitted a breather as the smooth and funky sound of Bring Change opened up. However, as anyone who loves that song will undoubtedly know, that break wasn’t to last long, as the coursing DnB soon kicks in and the electronic pulses shake the speakers into submission.

Too often is the term “electric” bandied about when describing a particular atmosphere. There was definitely something livewire in the vibe tonight, though. As Paora explained, the night was going to feature, “some old shit, some new shit, and some fat shit.” Some of it was old, some new, but all of it was fat – especially when this reviewer’s personal favourite tore through the Brisbane venue.

The problem with acts like Shapeshifter is that when you’re at home listening toSoulstice or Riddim Wise, unless you turn your speakers up so loud that they crumple in on themselves, or the police are called, then you are simply unable to capture the sound of them live. This is the dilemma I have when I listen to Electric Dream. When that deceptive electronic riff started up, everyone knew what was coming. Then Dreadford kicks in with the drums and that disco electronic suddenly isn’t so disco anymore – it builds higher and gets deeper. So by the time Paora comes in with his soaring and ever joyous vocals, everyone is ready to go nuts. The sound at the core of this song would make a stadium shudder, and when it explodes the crowd goes from being electric to balls-to-the-wall plain ape-shit.

There’s definitely something special about Shapeshifter, and a large part of why they get that kind of reaction is because what they mean to their audience. For no matter where they tour in Australia, I guarantee a huge slice of the crowd will be Kiwi. So when they ended their encore with One, a song that has pride of place in many Kiwi fans’ hearts, it was very special indeed. That signature piano drifted out, easing the crowd down with the soft DnB backing and the lyrics that remind you the world can be a great place. By the end of the night I noticed more than one Kiwi with tears in their eyes, and I could understand why.

Dirty South @ The Met, Brisbane (15/02/08)

Since The Met opened just over a year ago it has played host to some of the best international artists in the business. On a balmy Friday night however, it saw one of Australia’s most prominent DJs tearing up the Valley club for two hours ahead of what looks set to be an intense two and a half month tour that will take the former Yugoslavian born producer all across the States, SE Asia, and Europe. In the past it has sometimes become fairly predictable what kind of crowd you’re going to get in The Met but after being ushered in by the beautiful girl at the door (she told me to say that), and making our way to the main dancefloor where Brisbane’s Murray Brown already had a swelling crowd enthusiastic about what he was dishing out, it was clear to see that tonight would be something other than predictable. There was the distinct possibility that tonight, the fake tanned hides of the boys and girls would be turning their attention to the music rather than each other.

Brown delivered a set very much in keeping with the average mood you’d expect from the start of the night. Lots of comfortably predictable house tunes to keep the crowd pumped, and entice anyone not already on the dancefloor. While passing on the offer of putting my “Hands Up For Detroit” for the millionth time, the crowd were certainly up for it. Old favourites like a techno-addled reworking of Da Funk, Toca’s Miracle and the wheeling out of Jack’s House kept the dancefloor full and the speakers working overtime. Mercifully, the quality of the remix allowed the crowd to even endure James Blunt’s 1973, but still those grating vocals manage to sear through you like a convict who’s being electrocuted.

Thankfully the blistering opening of Dirty South’s set eradicated all traces of Blunt. The combination of the blinding spotlights suddenly blasting through the outpouring of smoke, while Carl Orff’s Oh Fortuna is unleashed upon everyone, all made for a memorable opening. The Melbourne DJ kept up the energy of the intro with the penetrating bass of his recent release Let It Go. With the lasers being used to good effect, and the lighting complimenting the music perfectly, it was clear to see that The Met had never been so packed. The dancefloor was nothing short of a seething mass of bodies and when Dirty South worked Soulsearcher’s Can’t Get Enough into the set, it was clear that a mixed bag was the order of the night.

As the nostalgia brought on by the aforementioned track that dominated a decade ago faded, it was replaced by another of Dirty South’s recent releases, Better Day which itself is reminiscent of the feelgood dance releases that so dominated the 90s. Underlying the nicely crafted electro and the omniscient bass is Dirty South’s almost signature guitar riffs that all combine to deliver a sound perfect for people that just want to dance long and hard into the night. The inclusion of the Seven Nation Army bassline just added to the frenzy. The build ups and peaks were all professionally delivered, and expertly timed to provide the crowd with the optimum clubbing experience and the energy needed to stay pumped well into the early hours of Saturday morning. Finishing, with delicious predictability that won’t get old for quite a while, with his most recent tuneThe End. So as Jim Morrison bid everyone farewell on Dirty South’s behalf, he wrapped up his set as he had opened it, with energy and generous helpings of that penetrating bass.

Pete Smith couldn’t have asked for a better DJ to take over from, as, when he opened with a nice techno reworking of Daft Punk’s live Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger, the crowd responded with a lot more enthusiasm than when Daft Punk had been played earlier in the night. The visuals during Smith’s set were especially impressive, with footage from Daft Punk’s Alive tour featuring heavily and always a joy to watch. The same treatment was given to an almost unrecognisably hardcore version of Salmon Dance.

The heightened mood of the night was in safe hands as he picked up where Dirty South had left off and kept the atmosphere on the dancefloor present, and the crowd energized. The resident then had his own version of nostalgia to set loose amongst the crowd when he broke out a nicely altered version of Utah Saints’ Something Good. The night couldn’t be topped after hearing Kate Bush’s vocals given the electro house treatment so it was time to leave the still-brimming crowd to it. If The Met can keep up such an impressive portfolio of DJs paying it a visit, then it will remain one of the best clubs in Brisbane; because it’s the DJ that makes the club, not the other way round.

Spoonbill @ Über, Brisbane (18/01/08)

Situated in the West End of Brisbane, Über sits pride of place along Boundary Street and enjoys an atmosphere that differs greatly from the blues bars and cafes that surround it. It has played host to some impressive names, most recently Dr. Octagonand Kool Keith. But the night before it saw Melbourne-based DJ Spoonbill pack the house and release a sound not being produced by any other Australian musician.

The night began with a glimpse into the very curious world of Suckafish P Jones, whose combination of dubstep, grime and hiphop had the few in attendance looking on in quiet bewilderment. The hardcore but formulaic sound of the dirty hiphop that came out of his laptop and pads clashed almost comically with the image of the wildly energetic skinny white boy with glasses jumping around the stage. He deserves credit for maintaining his over-enthusiastic energy throughout the set, in the face of a totally unresponsive crowd who refused repeated requests to “give it up!” and “put [their] hands in the air!”

The change in mood was palpable when Simulcast took to the stage. Unfortunately that mood changed another twenty times during his set, as he chose not to settle on one particular flow for the night but skipped uncomfortably from genre to genre. A brash and unwelcome hip hop beat would often cut in on an easy djemba-addled sound that was just beginning to take flight one minute, and then force its way between a smooth breakbeat synth concoction the next. The set was peppered with great moments, but all too often they were interrupted by what seemed to be the same tired hip hop backtrack, and not as a way of blending one tune into another, but merely as a means to cut one sound off and use it as an intermittent to the next.

When the great moments came, they were Simulcast doing what he does best, and that’s producing laid back minimal breaks reminiscent of a DJ Food soundscape. This, coupled with the smatterings of comic sampling that the DJ is so adept at using, such as the inspired use of Ray Parker Jnr’s vocal talents at one point. The flashes of Mr Gibbs’ brilliance were all to few and although, by the look of the crowd on the night, the sound may have catered to their tastes, it wasn’t his sound, that otherwise makes him great.

Room, then, was made for the feature presentation. Spoonbill, with visual mixing assistant in tow, took his place with macs, samplers, and mixers aplenty. I saw Mr. Moynihan when he supported Amon Tobin and Kid Koala on their joint venture to Melbourne a couple of years ago and was very impressed with a splendidly appointed supporting cast to what turned out to be one of the best live music events I’ve had in this country. His set geared everyone up sublimely for the night of Ninjatune majesty, and so was intrigued to find out what a night with a top-billing Spoonbill would be like.

As suspected, he didn’t disappoint. Having two hours to play with the audience, he unleashed a sound that simply no other Australian DJ is making at the moment. Certainly there is no better influence to have than the aforementioned genius Tobin, and he is evident throughout much of what Spoonbill does, but not enough to make him simply a cheap Australian equivalent. He has captured the essence of great technical ability with his sampling, and funnelled it into a seemingly easily-produced rhythm that on the face of it sounds generic, but doesn’t hang around getting stale and repetitive, quickly snapping you back into a healthy breaks mix with yet more finely tuned samples.

The sounds on offer were matched only by the visuals that synced up with them, and were a treat to look at, especially during the Gum Tree sequence. In a style reminiscent of the seamless visual extravaganza that makes up a live Coldcut performance, Spoonbill put on a show that was a treat for the eyes and the ears. He has the makings of a true pioneer within the Australian music scene, engineering a sound that no one else coming out of this country has attained. Despite some bizarre comparisons to The Avalanches that are doing the rounds (true only insofar as he is Australian and has a sampler), Spoonbill’s sound is a lot more technical and his samples more foley orientated as opposed to borrowing from entire riffs or the vocal verse. His music has divided critics, some not grasping what he is trying to do, and this is only ever a good thing for an artist, for it separates those who can appreciate technical ability from the chaff.

His utter uniqueness, combined with a live performance that is visually superb (he even finds the time to incorporate some carefully ironic marketing campaigns in the shape of piss-taking ads into his sets) means that Spoonbill will garner the attention of many, fans and critics alike, in the future. Now, if only he could be reviewed without the predictable barrage of avian-based punnery…

Salmonella Dub @ The Arena, Brisbane (03/11/07)

When it comes to a band that can fuse dub, drum & bass and reggae, there are few names that spring to mind as quickly as Salmonella Dub. It was good to see Brisbane’sArena rightfully full for this roots band from the beautiful Aotearoa town of Kaikoura. The vast majority of the crowd were Kiwis out to support one of their greatest musical exports, and so despite the venue being packed and the bar being understaffed, the mood was appropriately laid back. The band were in town to promote their new albumHeal Me, their first release since former frontman Tiki Taane left in January to pursue a solo career, and their eighth album overall.

The support came in the form of Budspells, the duo of MC Kye and Ant who originally hail from New Zealand but met and now operate out of Sydney. They opened a little later than billed, but they chilled everyone out with some of their combined early work from the 90s, keeping the mood very mellow. The crowd couldn’t have been more in the mood for their smooth dub beats, enjoying their latest offering Ruckus. It was refreshing to see a varied demographic of ages filling out The Arena, showing that dub appeals to anyone with a love of urbane and positive music.

It was a shame Budspells only played for about 50 minutes as the crowd were clearly ready to enjoy a lot more from the duo, but the anticipation was already growing forSalmonella Dub to take to the stage. Unfortunately they didn’t do so for well over half an hour, and although the crowd never seemed to tire of the tunes being played in the interim, it was still a little disappointing to hear Salmonella’s own tracks being played before they came on!

When they did take to the stage at 11.30pm, they opened with Push On Thru, the seminal track from 2002’s release Inside The Dub Plates. Everyone was instantly enthralled, the breathy vocals and beautiful harmony washing over the crowd in a wave of chilled out grooves that had the crowd swaying and moving in unison. The night progressed and the band focused their attention a little more on their newest material.

Love, Sunshine and Happiness is an instant reggae classic, and along with the almost effortless warm feeling it evoked, it was the visual element of the gig that played a vital role. Blending perfectly with the tunes were visuals courtesy of Tim Budgen, the band’s VJ. Images of scenery from all over New Zealand have been a big part of their live show, and they do it especially for the expatriated Kiwis who appreciate their country’s beauty. Looking around the Arena it was clear to see a lot of people appreciating just that, and for a moment at least a little bit of Brisbane’s Fortitude Valley became 100% New Zealand.

The tempo shifted slightly when trumpeter Peter Wood took the mic, telling us that he wanted a go at singing for a change, and went straight into a personal favourite on the new album, Lightning. The fleeting elements of folk in the song entwined with the insouciant sounds of the dub undertone and Wood’s earthy vocals, all making for a wonderful little melody.

Although Heal Me isn’t a departure or a new direction for the band, their live experience may change in the future with the departure of Tiki Taane. His absence from tonight’s gig was certainly noticeable. It didn’t detract from the performance, however, and instead allowed the band to take themselves away on digressional instrumentals worthy of Godspeed You! Black Emperor. It was clear that David Deakins, drummer and new vocalist for the band, had been having fun all night, and no more so than when the band treated the crowd to a flawless rendition of The Stranglers’ 1977 summer hitPeaches towards the close of the night.

Salmonella Dub’s only real foray into drum & bass for the evening came with their encore, jolting everyone who may have gotten just a little too relaxed, sending everyone out into the Brisbane night with a healthy disposition and the sound of the long white cloud echoing in their minds.