First of all – and I need to get this off my chest – I need to apologise to Iron Horses for completely missing their set. I swear I had absolutely no idea I was even coming along to this show until about the time they were getting on stage. It really f***ing pains me when I miss bands’ sets, and I absolutely can’t stand it when people just show up for the headliner (or worse, when people show up for the middle band and then promptly leave). There are special circles of damnation waiting for those evil bastards. I also don’t know why I get so exercised about it – it’s either due to an over-commitment to music or advancing old age and grumpiness. Or autism. Anyway, sorry Iron Horses – I guarantee that I feel a lot worse than you do about it.
First band for me to enjoy tonight are Interim, which is a great-sounding word but – honestly – is a really awful name for a band. You might as well call yourself The Support Band, or The Time-Fillers, and just resign yourself to a lifetime of being the stuff that fills the space between one thing and another. Good job then that they’re more than a bit filthy – especially since Frankie’s is absolutely *banging* tonight, the best of its dirty dive nature on full display. Interim are straight-up, no-mixer, biker-soundtrack rock – there are solos, there is enough hair to make a planet full of Wookies look like snooker balls, there are matching jackets, they loudly cover “Heartbreak Hotel” and… well, yes. You get the general idea. Oh, I’m sorry, you’d like to order a cocktail? Fuck off, you’re not welcome round here.
See a full photo set of Interim here
I’ve been meaning to see Brisbane’s Aerials for basically ever, but the records really don’t do the live show justice. Despite there only being three of them, it sounds like a supernova going off, a barrage of electronics in the background driving a bow wave that the guitars and live drums surf on like great big shouty dolphins. It’s got all the interstellar noise of Muse and the squalling WWEEEEEaahhhhHhhHHH OF sleepmakeswaves, except with a very tense man singing over the top. It is, in short, bloody great fun. Veins pop, faces are pulled, shapes are thrown, eardrums are punctured. Oh, and they chuck in a Chris Isaak cover because they like your face. What the hell else do you want from a Wednesday night, blood?
See a full photo set of Aerials here