If you’ve any interest in keeping up with any sort of ‘hot for 2013’ or ‘up-and-coming’ lists pinned all over the majority of international music media, you’d no doubt recognise the name Deap Vally.
The all girl, blues rock duo from California with a ‘could care less’ attitude have cemented a solid name for themselves overseas, exciting audiences with their stripped back and raw garage rock performances.
Surprising then, was that their first appearance in Melbourne, was to be at such a venue as the Northcote Social Club.
Opening proceedings were Brisbane’s Gung Ho who delivered a convincing set of enjoyable surf-inspired indie pop. Surpassing any sort of generic and uninspired reincarnation of the kind of Vampire Weekend or Foals tracks that seem to have plagued the indie scene for the past few years.
The three-piece delved into their set of dream pop and summer-filled tracks, introducing drowsy vocals to elevating bass lines and sprightly flicking guitar work.
You’d not be wrong for thinking that they were hiding a second guitarist somewhere backstage behind the heavy velvet curtains. Gun Ho produced tracks that remained far from empty and were consistently saturated with fuzz-filled, existential guitar tones.
Without wanting to jump the gun at all, the performance that the Deap Vally girls dished out on Saturday night could easily be likened to a gig performed 10 odd years ago by another blues-rock duo hailing from Akron, Ohio. Yeah, it was that incredible.
Channelling a myriad of 60s blues rock influences, ranging from Janis Joplin to Jimi Hendrix, the duo ripped through their set of raucous rock’n’roll with as fiery a spirit as you’d expect from either of the aforementioned artists.
The opening riff of ‘Gonna Make My Own Money’ ripped through the venue as Lindsey Troy’s whisky soaked vocals howled and squared off against Julie Edwards’ primal drum rolls.
Despite Troy telling of some problems to do with the flight from LA and a subsequently unfortunate onset of laryngitis, her Robert Plant-esque vocals seemed to be strangely enhanced by the entire predicament. Who would’ve thought that a raspy and unnaturally deep voice complimented blues rock?
If there is any way to try and begin to stir up a Melbourne crowd, it would be to pronounce how much better they were in comparison to their Sydney counterparts. And Deap Vally did just that, claiming that their show at The Oxford Art Factory the night before was merely a “warm up show” to the night’s proceedings.
The San Fernando Valley pair tore through the rest of the gig with an inherently wild and primitive sense of soul-filled and unembellished guitar music. Shredding chords met wailing lead solos as the toms pounded to the forefront to shove aside a stinging high hat.
What was really impressive was Deap Vally’s ability to completely transport the gig to a completely different time and place. While that may sound like a ridiculously overused expression, the fact that these girls could convincingly bring some extremely raw rock to the table in a musical climate of very produced and complex song arrangements felt all very 1967. Or early 2000s to say the least.
The music is great, the live performance is better, and the attitude is pure bad ass. Don’t worry if you missed Deap Vally whilst they were in town, they’ll undoubtedly be back really soon.
Only thing is, the likeliness of them playing such a small venue again is minimal, so if you managed to catch them count yourself lucky. If not, be sure not to miss them next time and we’ll see you again in 1968.
