Following the opening performance by Novocastrian duo Gooch Palms, one can’t help feeling that a more congruous selection could have been made for what is otherwise a night for discerning listeners.
Part gimmick band, part lo-fi garage, they make the best of playing to a modest audience, held captive largely by the fact that the venue is not yet issuing pass-outs.
San Francisco psych prodigies Moon Duo quickly right proceedings as they emerge against a backdrop of liquid projections. For a group who describe themselves as being more of an experiment than a band, their live performance has been honed over time into something of a kraut/space-rock master class.
Frontman Erik ‘Ripley’ Johnson (also of Wooden Shjips) is truly one of the most exciting psych guitarists of the modern age. He has an instantly recognisable style and tone, one that resonates from his Eastwood guitar below the driving beats and synth drones issued by partner Sanae Yamada.
Moon Duo’s performance suffers slightly from a poor sound mix, a trait becoming an unfortunate trademark of the Hi-Fi. With cavernous ceilings and a room not yet at capacity, the higher frequency tones prove too much of a challenge and become a lost soup reverberating around the roof.
With the venue now at capacity, New York punk/blues pioneers The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion take centre stage. Spencer is all bouncing swagger and strut in his trademark pleather pants. Guitarist Judah Bauer delights as he intermittently trades Telecaster for harmonica, and drummer Russell Simins takes on an almost trance-like state as he delivers the driving beats required to anchor this bass-less (not baseless) trio.
It’s a delightful surprise to see a Sydney crowd so enthused, loosened up and dancing.
After a solid 40 minutes of driving lo-fi riffs, and having experienced some technical issues with his microphone, Spencer takes time out to explain to the crowd that he “…must apologise. Everything up until this point has been bullshit.” Judging by the feeling in the room, you could be forgiven for not noticing.
This is a group that seemingly feeds as much from the vibe as they do from the music. Technical issues resolved, the set is revived and proves a fast-paced journey through the machine that is JSBX. Songs are often rolled one into the next, and rarely played to completion.
This is a luxury afforded only to groups with a depth of material 20+yrs in the making. A nearby onlooker sums it up aptly, remarking it’s as if, “someone was given their entire discography and a scalpel, then told to stitch it back together.”
The conclusion of the band’s set is marked only by a brief intermission, with pulsating light and an echoing loop heralding an encore. It’s not long before Simins drives the beat up again and is joined by the group for a victory lap.
It may be an obvious point to note, but there is a constant reminder amidst all the swirling noise, showmanship and flying ego that you are indeed watching three very accomplished and damn fine blues musicians.
To quote the big man directly, “Thank you very much ladies and gentlemen, it’s a blues explosion.”
