Monday

Live Review: Hardcore 2012


                                Ceremony. Photo credit: Jared Van Earle
09 July 2012
by Poppy Reid

Saturday July 07
Hi-Fi, Sydney, NSW

Despite Hardcore 2012’s founder proclaiming: “there will be no hidden surprises,” nothing could have prepared the nation’s heavy music community for the events which took place on Saturday night.

Perhaps last year’s absence made the heart grow fonder as both nights at Sydney’s Hi-Fi venue sold out. The genre’s supporters came from all corners of Australia to catch international trailblazers, homegrown heros and one act on the brink of cessation. Rubbing shoulders and filling the Hi-Fi to its ceiling (NOTE: the upstairs level isn’t recommended for this type of standing show), the sense of community stayed strong and loud over the following six hours.

Of all the humbling revelations that happened on Saturday night - some as simple as Mark Bawden (Break Even) and Cavechest’s (Miles Away) patriotic t-shirts, or as eye-opening as the fervid response to Break Even’s second-to-last show and the vocalised cultural understanding from LA band Terror - this showcasing had as much to do with its players, as it did to do with its place in music.


“Come up the front and lose your fucking mind. One last time!”

Perth quartet Break Even commanded a chaotic circle pit from their second song and while the security guards were at times insensitive, they were put to work with a constant barrage of bodies spilling over the barricade.

After an emotional set that was as ardent as it was riotous, fellow Perth band Miles Away took the stage taking the crowd one step further with Cavechest creating an opening for crowd members to jump onstage and dive off into the wide pit. Stripping hardcore back to its core, the frontman buried himself in the crowd letting his fans sing the best parts of stand-out track Turn Your Back.

From frontman Ross Farrar’s epileptic antics to guitarist Anthony Anzaldo’s gravity rebelling up-do and studded denim vest (complete with the Prince symbol on its back), Californian band Ceremony powered the sea of surfing bodies with their firing short, fast, loud tracks. As Farrar’s scream resonated from underneath his own button-front shirt for Zoo, the rest of the band menaced the sweat-soaked crowd who were reaching for a turn on the mic. “I'll sing you a song, it's about having your period,” said Farrar before Hysteria. Much like his likening of the lyrics “no birth without blood/no confusion without us,” to menstruation, Ceremony’s career and their live performance is slightly left off centre, exactly where they like it.

When three crowd members jump off the stage in the first two bars of Mindsnare’s set, anarchy will ensue. From the synchronised masturbatory strumming from the band’s guitarists to the raw aggression they incited at the Hi-Fi, the Melbourne face-melters may have upstaged some other acts on the bill but that was far from their intention.

“This song is going out to Graham from Resist Records for their 20th year together,” declared frontman Matt Maunder before From Blood To Dust. “He had his testicle removed today, or something.” Nixon, Founder of Resist Records actually had surgery last week to repair a hernia, but whatever.

When final band Terror took the stage, raised fists stretched back as far as the exit and when singer Scott Vogel asked us to “climb on somebody’s head,” a fierce dog-pile erupted from the pit. “This is positive hardcore,” he yelled before throwing his mic deep into the mosh. Not once did this take away from the set however, every lyric was screamed in perfect simpatico with drummer Nick Jett.

“Truth be told we don't often play to 1000 people,” admitted Vogel, “not to sound too retarded but this is a dream come true.”

A decade since their inception, this band had a lot to teach their fellow performers and their audience; what better setting to instill the integrity and bullshit-detectors they have fought so hard for since 2002? The highlight flared when the band dedicated Life and Death to Nixon and invited two fans onstage to sing with them.

This wasn’t just another indoor gathering of like-minded music palates, it was more than that; Hardcore is necessary for a community whose acceptance and popularity may be rising but is still fighting for its right to hold down the underground.

The Dandy Warhols: Welcome To This Machine



05 July 2012
by Poppy Reid

“Really, what isn’t a challenge, every day of fucking life is a challenge. It’s hard.”

The weekend following this phone conversation saw Taylor perform alongside the likes of Dawes, Lucinda Williams and Kris Kristofferson as part of a Glen Campbell farewell tribute in Hollywood, (an offering later described as “startlingly unprepared”). Next month he and his eighteen- year-old band The Dandy Warhols will embark on a North American tour before heading Down Under in November. But right now, in this particular interview, Taylor is much like the band’s eighth LP This Machine, self-deprecating, overwhelmed, but strangely placated.

“Touring is always really, really hard,” drones the 45-year-old. “Emotionally it’s just gruelling for the tiny moment of glory and beauty. Of all people, we know that we’re not perfect,” he digresses, “but when we’re serving the cause of music people tend to meet something more important than themselves.”

The comparisons to one Iggy Pop in recent years aren’t only a reflection of his caustic live shows but also a result of prevalent drug use. Before the Oregon five-piece burst into mainstream consciousness in 2001 - via a 100 million dollar ad campaign for Vodafone - the Dandy Warhols were teaming the words heroin and passé with an irony only used by the well practised.

“I spent most of my twenties drunk, on ecstasy, on acid and, you know, It was great. I guess it was great.” Taylor’s voice grows faint. “I’ve never been a particularly happy person so a lot of that was escapism and shit like that...”

About four years ago Taylor decided to cut down on his methods of escapism; but not because he feels he has a problem: “I still love drugs and alcohol. I’m a fucking happy baby when I’m drunk.” It was his band mates Zia McCabe, Peter Holstrom, Brent De Boer and Eric Hedford who sparked the detox drive.

“I can’t really drink and smoke on tour because I have to sing, I have to be pretty much like a real singer. The ‘self- indulgent fuck’ part of me is [giving up partying] because we played so many shows where I just couldn’t sing.” He then begins a harmless pleonasm, listing all the tracks the band couldn’t play. “At one point they were like, ‘Really? Really? We can only play these thirteen songs, this is all we can play because you are fucking drunk?’ It’s just a shitty thing to do to people you know,” he adds. “Now I just keep on partying to only the night before my day off.”

The new epoch of Courtney Taylor-Taylor is documented fairly explicitly throughout This Machine. On tracks like Enjoy Yourself and The Autumn Carnival the Dandys’ sound is a far cry from their loose, layered psychedelia. “Our last record was very dense, on this one I just wanted to sound like a full-piece rock band.

“I’m already seeing that we’re not two years ahead of everyone else anymore. Everyone else is kind of doing the same thing, there’s a lot of good rock coming out again now, so it’s nice.”

Sadly, no matter how big a departure The Dandy Warhols undertake with their music, the band will be forever tied to a documentary that teamed them up against fellow ‘90s music mavens, the Brian Jonestown Massacre. Most interviews following the 2004 release of Ondi Timoner’s Dig! were largely bated around the miscontexualised rivalry between the two bands, and although Taylor has endeavoured to clear this up in the past, TMN offers him the final word.

“I just want to clarify for everyone that that was not a real documentary, that was a movie,” he states. “We were just actors in it and guys were taking advantage of us. We were successful and she [Timoner] needed something, a bit of a leg up. Whatever,” he adds. “I’m over that, thank God.”

In saying that, whether the band sees the film, or numerous sync deals they have landed over the past decade, as a ‘leg up’ or not, they may not have been able to continue filling 1000+ venues to this day without them. Needless to say, Taylor isn’t bothered by public appearances or chart placings: “We’re not that sort of band,” he scoffs. The industry’s backslide into the ‘50s model is something he’s very fond of.

“I like the music industry as it is now; I like that people can not know who the fuck The Dandy Warhols are and can get on the Internet. That lasts, we’re always in rotation in millions of studios all over the world, and on Vevo and on YouTube - it’s great. I prefer it to the old school.”

Conversely, regardless of their status in most circles, the industry is less forgiving now; after every major label indulged the band with interest and elaborate dinners, none “were gonna put their money where their mouth is.” Eventually the band decided to release This Machine through their own Beat The World label, not surprising considering Taylor-Taylor’s reputation as an auteur.

“We’ve been around for eighteen fuckin’ years y’know, who would sign a band after eighteen years? It just doesn’t make any sense. It’s very rare that a band still is relevant after that long, we’re one of the few bands that even have a career after this long.”

The Dandy Warhols are touring in November with Harvest Festival.

Train: Californian country

                                                                               Photo credit: Ken Leanfore


14 June 2012
by Poppy Reid

It’s a surprisingly warm afternoon in Sydney and Train have 180° commanding views of the Opera House and Harbour Bridge. Frontman and lyricist Pat Monahan is seated stiffly on a couch at the Shangri La hotel enquiring about the current plight of print media while drummer Scott Underwood and guitarist Jimmy Stafford are reminiscing over a common foe.

It’s been six years since the San Francisco band’s near breakup and over a year since the cursory hiring of producer Howard Benson. “The first producer was an arrogant fucken’ asshole,” says Underwood. “One of the most arrogant dicks I’ve ever met in my life. And we felt that the second we saw him.” Coarse-tongued Underwood is careful no to name names but he’s explaining why the recording of Train’s most recent album California 37 cost a fraction of the price of its predecessor. “We started making Save Me, San Francisco with one guy and I think we spent $160,000 and threw it in the trash,” says 43-year-old Monahan, indicating it wasn’t just Benson’s ego that was hard to endure. “If you heard any of it you’d go ‘okay you’re fine’.”

Ironically, the now renowned producer behind California 37 enlisted Benson himself in 1991 for the debut of his Glam metal outfit, SouthGang. “It’s funny because he produced Butch Walker’s first record for his first band and basically ended that band’s career,” laughs Stafford, touching his bottle-black goatee. “He’s huge, but he’s a cock. He’s a huge cock.”

Bold statements like this only reflect the full-steam juggernaut that is Train; from the two-time Grammy Award- winning title track from sophomore album Drops Of Jupiter, to the #8 ARIA charting Save Me, San Francisco-which sported chart topper Hey, Soul Sister and is just months away from Platinum accreditation in the US-the trio know what they’re doing.

Although Drops Of Jupiter remains the band’s most lucrative to date in the way of album sales, Monahan says the band won’t even bother trying to match its success. “It’s a different day than it used to be, I don’t know that we’ll be record, it’s just not fair to measure it.” California 37 is a more country-tinged beast than the band’s prior creations; it’s aesthetically brighter and more radio-ready, woven with tinny guitars and literal lyrics. The genre’s influence was always present though, since tracks like Free and I Am on the ‘98 self-titled debut, Train have been chipping away at a culture where pop-country is predominantly reserved for women. However, 2012 saw the trio perform at the Houston livestock show and rodeo in March, a month before Monahan sang a duet with Martina McBride at the 47th ACM Awards (Academy of Country Music) and performed as part of a Johnny Cash tribute concert-even country singer Ashley Monroe features on California 37 - on the track Bruises.

“I think that [Bruises] lends itself to us being a little bit more country at the moment,” admits Stafford. “The country world is kind of exclusive and to be invited into that world was really special for us... It’s really great to have a foot in that door.”

Monahan is very aware of closing doors now too, domestic life is more phlegmatic since his divorce in 2006 but unlike most poets who’s use of pen and paper is cathartic and unadulterated, any words regarding ex-wife Ginean Rapp must be first screened by their 14-year-old daughter, Emilia. Lyrics like “Four more years ‘til my girl’s all grown/ Then the bitch gotta have to leave me alone,” were given the green light to become the album’s title track.

“She knows that I’m not a big fan of her mum and so I wanted her to tell me it was okay... She was like ‘I love that song, that’s the shit!’”
“Now you gotta write that song I Wish I Didn’t Suck That One Dick, jokes Underwood. Monahan shakes his head seriously, “I’m not gonna write that song.”

A father of three, Monahan is in constant protective-mode, even limiting the preordained right of pop’s frontmen. “I’ll never write a book because the book you want to hear from me is just not going to be what I can do,” he says. “I don’t want my children to ever know some of what I know.” Privacy has served the band well, Underwood puts the band’s split in 2006 down to the fact they “weren’t getting along at all,” but after Monahan released material as a solo artist in 2007 to make sense of his encrypted cogitations, he now writes lyrics like, “Truth is, it was attitude/Replaced greed with gratitude.”

“When we got back together we realised that we had to change our attitude and start being a band, and writing music just solely for the love of doing it again,” explains Underwood. “Instead of trying to make a lot of money or be famous.” This time around, Train seem to have made all the right choices. California 37’s first offering, Drive By, has already reached Platinum status in Australia and the album looks to rival its forerunner.

Underwood is convinced their contentment is because of the happy marriage with its producer, Butch Walker; a friend of the band who was also left with a bad taste on his palate from one particular producer. “You can hear the joy in the recording,” he beams. “We had so much fun making this record, you can hear it and see it, it was such a great time.”

Motion City Soundtrack: Homecoming


21 June 2012
by Poppy Reid

Just a few years ago, Motion City Soundtrack were cordially courted by big wig execs at Columbia Records, with promises to take the Minneapolis band from a spot on a Punk-O-Rama compilation to the pointy end of the Top 40 charts. But it was only three years and one album later when the Sony BMG subsidiary dropped the band.

“It happened really fast, before we felt like we had a chance to really get going, it was very sudden,” Motion City’s bassist, Matt Taylor tells TMN over the phone. “It was a good experience it was just really short.”

After their fleeting stint with a major label Taylor, along with guitarist Joshua Cain, frontman Justin Pierre, keyboardist Jesse Johnson and drummer Tony Thaxton were left to shop fifth album Go. Appositely, the band decided to exclusively set up meetings with independent labels.

It’s just a different ball game with the music industry the way it is,” says Taylor. “I don’t know that we would have gotten the kind of deal with a major this time around.”

Clearly put off by the handling of previous record My Dinosaur Life - which peaked at #50 on the ARIA chart - the band settled again with long-time label Epitaph; a welcomed decision by the label’s founder Brett Gurewitz, who had always saved a spot for the five-piece.

“Brett has been nothing but amazing to us as a band and as people. He always said if you need a home, come back. And that was when we left his label to go to a major label!

“Obviously he wasn’t letting pride or anything get in his way,” Taylor sounds surprised. “We just felt like that was really special, so it made sense to go back to them.”

As far as press interviews go, Taylor is the most emphatically realistic of the bunch; although his view of the music giants has become somewhat chinked in recent years, he’s honest about the reasons for taking that road and he doesn’t stand alone when addressing the dwindling value of pop-punk to the big four.

“I don’t know that majors are willing to offer the resources,” Taylor muses. “Coming back to a place like Epitaph who are more concerned with putting out music, it seems like they’re more willing to take a chance on art than a major label. A major is more concerned about the dollar sign sometimes and that’s obviously what we got caught up in,” he admits. “Maybe we didn’t measure up to what they expected; that’s why our term with them ended so short.”

Perhaps this is one of the reasons behind Boombox Generation, the label the band started “without any specific goal in mind.” The venture ultimately became an independence buffer, used to release Go in conjunction with Epitaph. Taylor assures us they’re not about to become a one-stop music generating shop though. “We’re not ready to sit down and become a company and crunch numbers and work out a marketing plan within our band. We just want to get the name out there and have Epitaph on it as well as a cool co-joint venture.”

Unfortunately, with Epitaph holding a greater percentage of the reins it wasn’t the band’s choice when the album leaked, the second time it has happened with the label. Go’s false start didn’t cause nearly as much upset as 2005’s Commit This To Memory though, which leaked three months before its set date and “was a different time when people were still actually buying music.” But for the nostalgic five who thrived in an age where their dreamy pop was delivered to their fans encased in equally light-hearted artwork, a digital leak took all the sheen away.

“We were upset at first because it has a due date, that’s the date that your baby will be born, the date you had in your head when people will hear it. All of a sudden it’s out and people are getting it from a website that’s streaming it,” he fusses. “They’re downloading it and it doesn’t have the packaging and it’s not beautiful like you wanted it to be. But now it’s out and people have been saying how much they like it on social media so now I’m really happy - at least it wasn’t the demos that leaked,” he laughs nervously, as not to jinx it.

Despite what the marketing team behind Motion City Soundtrack would have you believe, their sunny blend of hook-laden pop and honest-to-goodness rock isn’t just that nowadays. After all, with members sitting on the wrong side of thirty, one can’t expect or much less even want more numbers about that juvenile relationship you wish you weren’t in. This year’s Go touches on mortality, loved ones lost and even the admittance of Pierre’s own self-loathing.

This time around we’re at a certain age, we’re in our thirties and I hate to admit that but we’re starting to think a little more about life in general and how quickly things are seeming to fly by now… [Go is] about life and the fact that we need to really enjoy it while we have it.”

The ten best fictional acts from films



26 June 2012
by Poppy Reid and Nathan Jolly

Black Sheep – Dewey Cox
From the 2007 film Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story
Pop star Dewey Cox moved with the times. The Apatow/Kasden creation careened through a mighty, genre-spanning career, which parodied Johnny Cash, Roy Orbison, Bob Dylan, the early UK beat invasion and more, all steered by John C Reilly’s excellent comic timing and surprisingly elastic vocals. But perhaps his finest moment was when, after leaning a little too heavily on Dylan’s oblique stylings–“You know, how come nobody ever asks Bob Dylan, 'Why do you sound so much like Dewey Cox?'” he fumed at a press conference– he dropped acid (with The Beatles, obviously) and holed up in the studio Brian Wilson-style, demanding take after take, recording live animals and avant-garde orchestral arrangements - relegating his rather pissed-off drummer to a solitary gong. As a Pet Sounds parody, this track is impressively accurate. -NJ

Fever Dog – Stillwater
From the 2000 film Almost Famous

Seen through the adoring eyes of William Miller until the sheen starts to wear off, Stillwater epitomise ‘70s rock ‘n’ roll decadence; not surprising, considering they are based on writer Cameron Crowe’s experiences touring with The Allman Brothers Band, Led Zeppelin, The Eagles, and Lynyrd Skynyrd. (Any part of the film that seems excessive to the point of ridiculousness, you can bet actually happened while a teenage Crowe watched on, taking notes with his eyes.) Crowe and wife Nancy Wilson, of Heart, wrote the bulk of the Stillwater songs while on their honeymoon (!) the highlight of which is the incendiary Fever Dog. -NJ

Gimme Some Money- Spinal Tap
From the 1984 film This Is Spinal Tap
Before Spinal Tap were dubbed England’s loudest band, they flirted with a number of styles, resulting in the hilariously spot-on beat pop track Gimme Some Money. Nigel’s solo is the highlight, but it’s all good stuff. The band later became a rock juggernaut, filling 15,000 seat arenas before their career tapered off. Not to worry though, as their manager explained in the film, their appeal was just “becoming more selective.” -NJ

Threshold - Sex Bob-omb
From the film 2010 Scott Pilgrim vs The World
Although the Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World soundtrack sports many great Beck-penned tunes, Threshold is the crème de la crème, with lyrics like “My body's stupid, stereo putrid” and “I'm hearing voices, animal noises” over just under two minutes of distorted, low-fi reverberated genius. -PR

Inside Of You - Infant Sorrow
From the 2008 film Forgetting Sarah Marshall

Russell Brand’s character Aldous Snow (actually a more tame version of Brand) wrote this double-entendre-ladened gem about the titular character, performing it in front of her heartbroken ex, Peter (Jason Segel). The character was such a hit that Apatow quickly commissioned a sequel of sorts, with Brand reprising the role (and recording a ten-track soundtrack) for the 2010 film Get Him To The Greek. -PR

That Thing You Do - The Wonders
From the 1996 film That Thing You Do!
Back in the summer of 1964, there were hundreds of bands across America trying to cash in on that crazy new youth fad, guitar groups. A number of them scored regional hits before disappearing into the footnotes of rock music; Pennsylvanian band The Wonders were one of these one-hit wonders. Originally dubbed the Oneders, which caused a multitude of phonetic mishaps, the group scored a local hit with That Thing You Do, a brilliant slice of power pop which was actually written by Adam Schlesinger from Fountains Of Wayne, who should actually be referred to as Adam Schlesinger from Tinted Windows, who we sincerely hope won’t meet the same fate as the Oneders. Google Messing With My Head, pronto. -NJ

The New Main Street Singers – Never Did No Wandering
From the 2003 film A Mighty Wind


John Michael Higgins hilariously leads this tightly choreographed number, Never Did No Wandering - a perfect folk pastiche from the minds behind This is Spinal Tap. Jane Lynch is also hilarious in this scene, which should surprise nobody. -NJ

Scotty Doesn’t Know – Lustra
From the 2004 film EuroTrip
Although the band who wrote this track aren’t fictional, the song was penned to tie in with 2004 film EuroTrip in which the philandering Fiona cheats on poor Scott with Donny, a fact Scotty finds out about in brutal detail, live at his high school graduation. The single peaked at #53 on the US Billboard Pop 100 and the band performed the track in the film with an inked Matt Damon cast as lead singer. Is it his finest role? Well, no, but it’s pretty damn funny. -PR

Clowns Never Laughed Before - Greg Brady
From the 1995 film The Brady Bunch
Clowns, beanstalks and ponies: Greg Brady’s hapless attempt at a love ballad. Although the oldest member of the family was not appreciated in his time (he was always booed offstage in the film), this lovely pop ditty is really happening in a far-out way. -PR

Sugarhigh - Gina and Coyote Shivers
From the 1995 film Empire Records
“What’s with today, today?” One of the most quotable movies of the '90s also contains this perfect pop gem, with a killer chorus belted by a two-pack-a-day Renee Zellweger, who never managed to top this moment. But we mustn't dwell, not on Rex Manning Day. -NJ


Live review: Lady Gaga, Sydney



21 June 2012
by Poppy Reid

Last night the 26-year-old woman known as Lady Gaga, Mother Monster, our generations provocateur, or just Gaga rode into town for the first of four performances at the 30,000 capacity Allphones Arena in Sydney. The icon outshone, out-sang and out-danced not only her unwarranted shepherd Madonna but also all of our expectations, no matter how besotted some of us were to begin with.

Bound to a horse made from two of her twelve dancers’ muscle, Gaga was carried onstage and the extra-terrestrial/religious iconography began, a contrast both as nonsensical as it was enthralling.

Two tracks in and she was receiving simulated cunnilingus on an office desk (for Government Hooker) before giving birth to herself through a blimp-sized lower body. Predictably, a huge gay fan base turned up along with thousands of women paying homage through their outfits, and when the cameras zoomed in on three under-tens while Gaga lifted her skirt and felt herself up, no one blinked, not even the girls’ mother.

“I am not a creature of your government Australia but I am you. I am everything that you love about yourself and everything that you hate and I am not even real. I'm just an image that your mind has created. I would not be here without your creativity.” Gaga’s message rung true and clear: she was soliciting freedom, equality and unity to a crowd who knew too well their choices were limited by their government.

With each track we were treated to another of the pop singer’s chameleon-like transformations, of which there were thirteen during this edition of the Born This Way Ball. From wedding dolls which metamorphosed her gigantic castle into a Swiss clock during Bloody Mary; to the motorcycle-cum-piano Gaga sprawled against and rode around the stage in Love Game, or the revised meat-dress accompanied by a ‘meat couch’ supposedly made of all her past lovers and the two oversized meat grinders chewing her dancers legs and referencing Larry Flint in Alejandro, Gaga may make millions from her fans in Sydney alone but it’s clear exactly where the majority of her money is spent.

“I understand that it's crowded but get your pussies off the floor!” Gaga screamed before Telephone. Never eclipsing her dancers, Gaga’s choreography was slightly messy but this only heightened the adoration; she is her zealots, a lover of music who in her own words, doesn’t “give a fuck what we think.”

One of the most improvised parts of the ball was the most beautiful, after a flurry of gifts in the form of letters, clothing, Australian flags, four wallets and even an iPhone were thrown onstage, Gaga sat with her fans and started putting the jackets on and going through the wallets. “You threw your compact at me? Who are you, Courtney Love in the ‘90s?” Gaga laughed. After inviting a hoard of fans backstage she joked: “This is very stressful for me, I only know how to sing and dance at the same time.”

After final track Scheiße, Gaga stood centre stage, her dancers beside her and her machine gun brassiere bouncing with each breath. “I have extracted all your information we are ready to leave G.O.A.T (Gaga Owned Alien Territory) and invade Earth.”

And just as an encore should be, her return to stage was all for her little monsters. Out of breath and dancing out of time, Gaga and fellow dancer Clarence jumped and paraded through her castle for Edge Of Glory before selecting a fan in a bubble dress to join her onstage for the last encore Marry The Night. “I was right to pick you, I knew you were a big fan,” she told the bare-foot, inconsolable girl.

After promising to always come back, to always sing live and to always play her own instruments Mother Monster and her unusually large piano-guitar disappeared beneath the stage. You’d be hard-pressed to find another concert as equally moving and beguiling, as it was trite. To keep us guessing for almost three hours whilst letting us into the unique planet she chooses to inhabit, that is what will keep her fans coming back to this star. A star who worships music and her monsters in equal parallel.