Tivoli, Brisbane
Thursday June 13, 2013 :
A temperate evening had me blasting up the freeway to Brisbane’s Tivoli for a show I have been anticipating since I first caught The Black Angels at the Harvest Festival last year. As I entered the venue to the punkish edgy undertones of Sydney up and comers Zeahorse, I noted the surprisingly sparse crowd. I was soon distracted by my stomach and its void, and just how fortunate I am that a hot dog stand is parked at the Tiv’s entrance.
After the ‘Zee Gees’ grinding parade I set off to the nearby valley to hunt and gather. Upon my return I was met by a sonic wall intently delivered by The Laurels, a name to note as they delivered a superb set of brutally melodic swirling gazey psych grunge, all the while interplaying with each other, feeding off the audience’s obvious enjoyment as the crowd swelled to a respectable number. As their set climaxed with the last couple of songs, the first couple of rows in particular were right there with them, making it clear there was more than a few afficionado’s amongst them. A sincerely stoked Laurels departed to a healthy round of appreciation.
A sense of anticipation filled the air as desperately self conscious, lumber fashioned beards and ironed chambray shirts swarmed the floor – it’s oh so hot right now. When our headliners hit the stage after several minutes of teasing, the crowd cheered adoringly as Christian Bland began his intensely aloof bleatings of consciously distressed psych/spiritual musings and associated themes.
Gifted with a front row experience, I soaked up the superb musicality that is The Black Angels. They rolled through an undulous cross section of their five studio offerings over the next two and a bit hours, at times delving deep into their more psychedelic explorations (much to the delight of the rapturous fans who saturated the stage in gratitude at every turn). A healthy sprinkling of less indulgent tracks had the whole place rocking to the radio friendly newbie ‘Indigo Meadow’ and other fresher cuts. Yet when the band hit the first notes of ‘Black Grease’ and ‘Young Men Dead’ from their first album, Passover, the accompanying roars were distinctly more enthused, a testimony to one of the richest rock debuts ever.
As the ever vocal Bris-vegans screamed their stars back to the stage for an exquisite encore, I had migrated from the pit to the sound desk where the lavish layers were more accessible away from the at times piercing guitars hectic swirlings amongst the foldback, backline and house PA. The band were clearly enjoying the passions displayed by the die hards in front, screaming after and between songs. The band spoiled the loyal punters with a tidy jammed out psych number to finish, and applauded the crowd generously as they left us all wanting yet more.
I could have listened to that all night, give me a bean bag in a smoke filled crash pad and I’d never leave. Come back soon Black Angels, you’ve got the medicine.
Reviewer and Photographer: Sam Paquette
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