With Absolute Boys and Bum Creek Friday 21st January
HEALTH at the East Brunswick Club was a high-energy affair from the outset; with local band Absolute Boys laying down the beach towel gauntlet. Their gravelly, scratch acid surf rock was a pleasure to behold. Dennis Santiago on guitar, Will Farrier on bass and vocals and Kino Verzosa on drums create a lush reverb-heavy world that is well worth catching live.
Bum Creek are one of those truly polarising bands. They have managed to cleft my group of friends in two. They either hate them or they love them and there’s no middle ground or convincing otherwise once they’ve chosen their camp. It certainly is difficult to tell whether this ADHD wet dream of cacophony is serious or in jest, but they are compelling viewing no matter what your opinion on their musical approach.
There is something refreshing about being broken out of the safety of knowing where the music is going to go next, and Bum Creek do just that – with a combination of guttural noises, percussive confusion, clarinet screeches, and awkward free association lyrics manically delivered by members Sam Karmel, Trevelyan Clay and Tarquin Manek.
Is it irony or idiot savant avant garde? Is it a studied disintegration of music or are they just having fun at our expense? Their detractors have argued that they have the assurance and equipment of music students and are painful to watch for their childish feuds over who can make the loudest noise; but maybe they also force us to examine our attachment to needing music to flow in certain ways. Go see them, and find out which camp you fit in. Are you a Bum Creek lover or a hater?
After these loud and experimental local sounds had died down, LA bad boys HEALTH took the stage and exploded into their trademark laid-back fury without delay. The combination of frenzied drumming and corrugated washboard guitar riffs with the almost ethereal vocals of Jake Duzsik make a contradiction that is an extremely compelling listen.
BJ Miller on drums channelled metal drummer mystique with crossed sticks held above the head for gutsy solos in songs like ‘Triceratops’, and crowd favourite ‘Glitter Pills’ saw sprays of sweat caught by the lights with every downward stroke of the sticks.
Bassist John Famiglietti is a vision to behold: long-haired masculinity at its best. He led the crowd in a devotional dance, spinning his ridiculously long mane around like a windmill, his hair becoming a fifth member of the band.
HEALTH were on fire, and their assault of noise and percussion seemed almost to penetrate on a cellular level, with the crowd jolting and headbanging in sweaty joyous response.
