Local outfit Zeahorse kicked things off in a sensible fashion. Troubadours of the local scene for many years, their live appearances have been sporadic in recent times, though they delivered a solid enough set to commence the evening of shoegazing and psychedelia. The crowd was small, but the vibe was right on.
It’s not too often an audience is treated to a lineup with back to back with female percussionists, but this was to be the case as the night moved on, with the talented Kate Wilson driving the The Laurels four-piece onslaught.
Along with bassist Connor Hannan, they form the solid platform that allows guitar/vocal duties (shared by Luke O’Farrell and Piers Cornelius) to be released in a style that’s difficult to define exactly. It’s tight and accomplished playing, delivered with just enough freedom and latitude as to remain unpredictable. It is a delight.
A string of recent touring across the USA (including a stopover at Austin Psychfest) has clearly benefited the group; they deserve their reputation as one of Australia’s premiere live acts. It’s all swirling and noise for the fast growing crowd who gather in admiration. If you don’t already have a copy of their records, do yourself a favour.
Front man Alex Mass emerges with an all-too-cool swagger and simply announces “We’re The Black Angels from Austin, Texas”. The crowd is instantly drawn in to Stephanie Bailey’s ominously building beats as they open with the haunting tune “Vikings” from Directions To See A Ghost. From there a big leap forward in the catalogue sees them burst forth into Indigo Meadow territory, and the ringing sounds of organs fill the room throughout “I Hear Colours” and “Don’t Play With Guns”.
Initially, The Enmore crowd does what Sydney crowds almost inevitably do. But for the enthused kids stacked right up front staring adoringly at Christian Bland, and a handful of people swaying and singing along with themselves; they seem to struggle to let themselves go. Cue a two minute ditty called “Telephone” which changes that feeling in the room almost as instantly as it did when they played this tune for David Letterman’s audience. The crowd is drawn in, inhibitions are almost visibly fallen away, and it’s off into “Indigo Meadow”.
Several songs later and the bass guitar now touches it’s fourth sets of hands for the evening, as Kyle Hunt is entrusted to take a reprieve from duties on organ to provide bass vibrations .With 4 players equally split between left and right handed instruments, there’s an almost strange symmetry on stage which is quite oddly juxtaposed by the hypnotic lighting and projections that have become a real feature of The Black Angels live experience.
The 60s/70s sensibility is an influence that could be easily overplayed, but The Black Angels certainly have their own unique thumbprint on their brand of it. “Sniper” holds the breath in with its descending riff before it just sneaks up on you during the breakdown.
It’s also well captured in a tune like “Black Grease” with its jangling guitars poured on top of overdriven bass and muddled with deceptively intricate drumming. Incidentally if you’re ever in Texas, the group sell their own hot sauce of the same name.
The back third of the set sees a touring band in great form. The group appear relaxed and comfortable delivering their set, yet it does not appear at all a contrived going through of motions. The crowd appear In particular swoon over “Haunting At 1300 McKinley”, with Maas’ echoing vocals just shining through and seemingly enveloping the room from all angles all at once.
The crowd tonight have enjoyed a talented group sampling from (almost) their entire catalogue. They are transfixed during the delicately delivered “Holland”, and they erupt during the final encore crescendos of “Bad Vibrations” and “Young Men Dead”.
