On a bone chillingly cold Friday night, the temptation to remain snuggled up close to home is almost too overwhelming to ignore. Having heard just enough about the bands playing tonight to warrant dragging myself out of bed, the trek to the Northcote Social Club is made and quickly it becomes clear that my efforts are not in vain.
The Ocean Party kick things off playing warm, gorgeously crafted indie pop. Their beachy, breezy tones washing over the room who have formed a semi circle several paces away from the front of the stage. Despite the weather outside being freezing, The Ocean Party conjure up images of sun drenched summer days and for a moment winter seems miles away. They make throwing together half a dozen different components from other bands (The Shins and The Go-Betweens especially) seem easy. The Ocean Party sound like kissing goodbye your summer holiday romance and everything that goes on in your head on the ride back home.
After a decent hiatus, Lowtide are back playing some of their first dates in months. Having not seen them before but only having only heard good things, it is quickly apparent to all in attendance that they do not just live up to the hype but surpass it completely. Lowtide bring to the table all of the good parts of shoegaze with slight grunge undertones. As the fuzzy perfection of co-bassists and vocalists Giles Simon and Lucy Buckeridge swirls around the mesmerised crowd, it is clear that the audience have had their socks knocked off. Unfortunately, massive technical problems in the form of a buggered amp cut their set short by several songs. Though had they not announced that they were having such problems, it would have been easy to just drown in their music – in a good way. As more time is taken to fix something side of stage Lucy jokes “Giles will do a dance” (he doesn’t and genuinely looks horrified at the idea) before they close with “Underneath Tonight”. Upon further listening to their 7” of the same name, it is clear that their sound on the night was incomplete however this just provides another excuse to spend more time in their company in the future.
The terribly inviting voice of Alex Bryant, leader of Alex And The Ramps warms up any punters still feeling the arctic blasts haunting the night. In a night of terribly different bands, Aleks and The Ramps manage still manage to stand out.
Their eccentricity and irrepressible enthusiasm has even the most disaffected hipsters shuffling their feet in time. Fresh of the February release of their new album Facts, Aleks and the Ramps haven’t just been clocking up miles on the road: “We got confused for The Beards in Canberra… that was cool”. Their music and stage presence though showy enough to be entertaining never resorts to be being quirky just for the sake of it.
While fixing an issue with their drum kit, the band fill in the time by covering Chris Isaac’s “Somebody’s Crying”, an unplanned moment which further shows their versatility and is a perfect example of their spontaneity. What sets Aleks and The Ramps apart from every other band is their ridiculously clever song-writing, while their lyrics range from inspired to hilarious they are always delivered in Alex’s deadpan voice.
The addition of Sez Wilks’ gorgeous vocals brings their sound to a new level of shiny pop goodness. As they jump up and down the stage as if fighting in vain against gravity, a punter remarks, “They’re the band you wish were your friend’s band, if only your friends were that fun.” As they punch through favourites “Crocodile” and “Middle Aged Unicorn Standing On A Beach With Sunset” it would be easy enough to write them off as another cutie flavour of the month but look closer and just beneath the surface of funny lyrics there is tangible warmth and heart in every song.
By the end of their set several members of the band are in the front row of an audience and for the first time in a long time this reviewer was left wanting more. Listen to them in passing or in depth, just make sure you listen to them or even better make the trek out to go and see them.
– Madison Thomas
