Six killer bands, a million slices of pizza, and more beer than is remotely necessary. Sunday night gigs are the *best*.
Pro Vita are a band I’ve been waiting to see for a LONG time. It’s a Sunday night here at Frankie’s and they’re suffering from hangovers but damn if they don’t live up to every expectation their records promise. This is joy bottled and amplified, even if most of the songs are about getting dumped. The absurdly tall Connor Brooker – singer of Pro Vita and prolific songwriter in about a bazillion side-projects – is on roaring form, cute as a button, breaker of two strings, and purveyor of insane catchiness. While the band – tight as a gnat’s chuff and as happy as clams – power out the music, Connor batters us into paste with “Better Now” and “Neverland” and… oh, fuck it, every single track. Good times? This band.
The Ivory Elephant have driven up from Melbourne, the plucky buggers, just to basically show off two things. First, that their singer-guitarist has the BEST SCRATCHPLATE OF ALL TIME and secondly that they know how to play some kickass blues with shades of psyche. Final track is called “Hoo Ha” which is both an excellent title and as much fun as it sounds. Dirty, widdly, fun.
It’s my second time seeing Rackett inside of a fortnight, and I think I’d be happy to go every week. The room fills up as the curtains come back on Frankie’s stage, and there’s clearly a buzz going on, not only of the beery kind. Seems like everyone here has been hearing about them from one place or another – and rightly so, it’s the sort of band that instantly appeal. This is not easy to do when you’re part riot grrl – this sort of thing usually sends hairy young boys running for cover. Instead (as far as I can tell) they’re unusually and pleasantly well-behaved, while most of the girls – including and especially the band – go totally fucking ape. Despite the antics, the songs are razor-sharp too – a joyous soundtrack to a blistering spectacle.
Lunatics On Pogosticks bring their usual arsenal of screaming, swooping, punky, and poppy cacophony tonight and pretty much decide that from here on in, everyone’s getting wasted. It’s as loud and loveably loose as ever, with Calum’s vocal veering between the mischevious and the funny to the throat-ruiningly harsh. Finale “MDMAtes” is a ripper of an end to another ripper of a set from one of Ted’s Records favs.
Green Thief > hover somewhere, threateningly, between rich and soupy psychedelia and biker madness. It reminds me of old footage from Woodstock or the Isle Of Wight, only filtered through a lens made of goblins and noise. When they let go though, by crikey it bloody goes. Hard work, but the fun kind.
Drunk Mums‘ > dirty sludge is just right to round off tonight. As raucous – and if we’re all being honest, as drunk af – as the crowd, plumbing new depths of dirty rock ‘n’ roll, they’re made for venues like these. Shout your face off, sprain a muscle in your neck, and bump into stuff – it’s the Drunk Mums way.
FULL PHOTO GALLERIES
Lunatics On Pogosticks
The Ivory Elephant