This article is from the source 'guardian' and was first published or seen on . It last changed over 40 days ago and won't be checked again for changes.

You can find the current article at its original source at http://www.theguardian.com/music/2013/nov/27/a-big-day-in-at-the-locies-sydneys-festival-of-new-bands

The article has changed 4 times. There is an RSS feed of changes available.

Version 2 Version 3
A big day in at the Locies: Sydney's festival of new bands A big day in at the Locies: Sydney's festival of new bands
(25 days later)
On the Saturday before Blur pulled out of the Big Day Out amid what appeared to be dummy-spitting on both sides, down at the Factory Theatre in Sydney, 18 bands were tending to live music's grassroots.On the Saturday before Blur pulled out of the Big Day Out amid what appeared to be dummy-spitting on both sides, down at the Factory Theatre in Sydney, 18 bands were tending to live music's grassroots.
Started by Ron Baumann, and now run by Angelina Hodgson, both of promoters the Synesthesia Massive, the Locies is a one-day festival. Formerly called the Noisies, the event has been running 10 years. It's intended to give a shot of energy to a scene often bedevilled by noise restrictions, venue closures and the dreaded pokies. Started by Ron Baumann, and now run by Angelina Hodgson of the Synesthesia Massive, the Locies is a one-day festival. Formerly called the Noisies, the event has been running 10 years. It's intended to give a shot of energy to a scene often bedevilled by noise restrictions, venue closures and the dreaded pokies.
As well as gigs, the day included a troupe of jugglers, a man painting a picture, DJs and food stalls. "All these things together is what makes a scene, not just music," says Hodgson, who believes that this kind of art/music crossover is the future for bands attempting to stand out in an increasingly crowded market.As well as gigs, the day included a troupe of jugglers, a man painting a picture, DJs and food stalls. "All these things together is what makes a scene, not just music," says Hodgson, who believes that this kind of art/music crossover is the future for bands attempting to stand out in an increasingly crowded market.
Instead of playing gigs all the time, she says, bands should instead put on special events – what the 60s might have called happenings. "Look at what Cog did when they broke out of Bondi. Every time you went to a show you knew that they wanted to give you an experience.Instead of playing gigs all the time, she says, bands should instead put on special events – what the 60s might have called happenings. "Look at what Cog did when they broke out of Bondi. Every time you went to a show you knew that they wanted to give you an experience.
"I think a lot of bands have forgotten that you're not delivering music to your fans – you want to take them on a journey.""I think a lot of bands have forgotten that you're not delivering music to your fans – you want to take them on a journey."
Hodgson also hazarded a guess at what the sound of Sydney would be in five years – a potent mix of electronic music, psy-trance, rock and prog. So had the bands themselves taken notice?Hodgson also hazarded a guess at what the sound of Sydney would be in five years – a potent mix of electronic music, psy-trance, rock and prog. So had the bands themselves taken notice?
Taking the stage first were Village Echoes. They were personally diverse – the guitarist is a British former nu-metaller, the drummer is from Adelaide, the singer is Belgian and the bassist comes from Pittsburg – but their music was an impressively focused and confident, with tinges of Nirvana in places.Taking the stage first were Village Echoes. They were personally diverse – the guitarist is a British former nu-metaller, the drummer is from Adelaide, the singer is Belgian and the bassist comes from Pittsburg – but their music was an impressively focused and confident, with tinges of Nirvana in places.
The band said afterwards that being in Sydney had modified their sound. "It's not great for rock – it's very indie-heavy," said the guitarist, Steve Parfitt. "Things like Bastille and Of Monsters and Men – the hipsters go wild for that."The band said afterwards that being in Sydney had modified their sound. "It's not great for rock – it's very indie-heavy," said the guitarist, Steve Parfitt. "Things like Bastille and Of Monsters and Men – the hipsters go wild for that."
The hardest bit, they said, was actually getting Sydneysiders out to see the gigs. "You've got to work your nuts off to get people to come. You can play scarce and try to get the hype up or you can play every place you can we're trying that. There could be a gig in your back garden and we'd be there."The hardest bit, they said, was actually getting Sydneysiders out to see the gigs. "You've got to work your nuts off to get people to come. You can play scarce and try to get the hype up or you can play every place you can we're trying that. There could be a gig in your back garden and we'd be there."
Following them on the Floor Stage (there were another nine bands on the Fuse stage upstairs) were Age of Menace, a pulverising and accomplished metal band whose final song was in waltz time and called We Don't Like You at All ("but don't take that personally," added singer Rob Smith). Afterward I chatted to their affable bassist Adam Barns, originally from Victoria but a Sydneysider from the age of 13.Following them on the Floor Stage (there were another nine bands on the Fuse stage upstairs) were Age of Menace, a pulverising and accomplished metal band whose final song was in waltz time and called We Don't Like You at All ("but don't take that personally," added singer Rob Smith). Afterward I chatted to their affable bassist Adam Barns, originally from Victoria but a Sydneysider from the age of 13.
Partly because of the size of the country, he said, Australian bands have little chance of breaking nationally without radio play – making things tricky for bands with a sound that isn't exactly easy on the ears. At the moment, he explained, if Age of Menace play central coast or Melbourne – where, essentially, no one has heard of them – they have to bring the audience with them.Partly because of the size of the country, he said, Australian bands have little chance of breaking nationally without radio play – making things tricky for bands with a sound that isn't exactly easy on the ears. At the moment, he explained, if Age of Menace play central coast or Melbourne – where, essentially, no one has heard of them – they have to bring the audience with them.
"We'll put out a call to fans in Sydney to come on a road trip to see these other gigs. A beautiful situation to be in is to be able to go somewhere like Adelaide or the Gold Coast and have a local fanbase. We're still in the stage of building that up.""We'll put out a call to fans in Sydney to come on a road trip to see these other gigs. A beautiful situation to be in is to be able to go somewhere like Adelaide or the Gold Coast and have a local fanbase. We're still in the stage of building that up."
Barnes said some promoters, realising how desperate some bands are for exposure, charged them to play gigs. "Promo companies say 'pay us and we'll put you in these great shows'. Others say 'Here are 50 $20 tickets – you have to sell them to your fans and if you don't, you have to pay for them" – a big gamble for a small band.Barnes said some promoters, realising how desperate some bands are for exposure, charged them to play gigs. "Promo companies say 'pay us and we'll put you in these great shows'. Others say 'Here are 50 $20 tickets – you have to sell them to your fans and if you don't, you have to pay for them" – a big gamble for a small band.
Then there are the venues with terrible sound. "You get venues that aren't properly equipped for a band – you'll go to a pub and it's just a vocal announcement PA. If you're a band that's loud and heavy like us, you need a decent system.Then there are the venues with terrible sound. "You get venues that aren't properly equipped for a band – you'll go to a pub and it's just a vocal announcement PA. If you're a band that's loud and heavy like us, you need a decent system.
"Those kinds of gigs can be worse than not playing. But the Sydney scene in the last five years has gotten a lot better. There are about 10 to 15 venues putting on bands three or four nights a week that weren't before.""Those kinds of gigs can be worse than not playing. But the Sydney scene in the last five years has gotten a lot better. There are about 10 to 15 venues putting on bands three or four nights a week that weren't before."
Barnes said he was jealous of Melbourne, where audiences come out to see live music in general – not just one specific band. Yet he was reluctant to move there – "Sydney's where opportunities happen."Barnes said he was jealous of Melbourne, where audiences come out to see live music in general – not just one specific band. Yet he was reluctant to move there – "Sydney's where opportunities happen."
Next came the seriously impressive Blackbreaks, who had a distinct look (beards and waistcoats), sharply political lyrics (song titles included Too Big to Fail) and Matt McMartin, a 6'4" Cook Islander with a magificent bass voice on keyboards. Their singer, Chris Dubrow – who works for the Greens by day – had enviable stagecraft, particularly the climax, where he dropped his guitar and walked off midway through a concluding mock-message from his sponsors.Next came the seriously impressive Blackbreaks, who had a distinct look (beards and waistcoats), sharply political lyrics (song titles included Too Big to Fail) and Matt McMartin, a 6'4" Cook Islander with a magificent bass voice on keyboards. Their singer, Chris Dubrow – who works for the Greens by day – had enviable stagecraft, particularly the climax, where he dropped his guitar and walked off midway through a concluding mock-message from his sponsors.
Stagecraft is needed in Sydney, he said afterwards: the audiences are tough. "But if you have good music and something to say it cuts through. It possibly isn't a great incubation for some sorts of music but there's no shortage of great Sydney acts. There are a whole bunch that have gone international in the last couple of years."Stagecraft is needed in Sydney, he said afterwards: the audiences are tough. "But if you have good music and something to say it cuts through. It possibly isn't a great incubation for some sorts of music but there's no shortage of great Sydney acts. There are a whole bunch that have gone international in the last couple of years."
Draw had a more conventional way of attracting the audience's attention. Their frontman Michael Rappell took to the stage bare-chested (he also seemed to be wearing Michael Hutchence's hair) and then led the band in a cover of Coolio's Gangster's Paradise. A megaphone, saxophone and copious slap bass was then deployed in a genre-roving set that laughed in the face of cool.Draw had a more conventional way of attracting the audience's attention. Their frontman Michael Rappell took to the stage bare-chested (he also seemed to be wearing Michael Hutchence's hair) and then led the band in a cover of Coolio's Gangster's Paradise. A megaphone, saxophone and copious slap bass was then deployed in a genre-roving set that laughed in the face of cool.
Rappell said his band were thinking beyond Australia. "The drummer's from Indonesia so we've started promoting ourselves there and it's got a really good response from them." Could musical diplomacy succeed where Abbott failed?Rappell said his band were thinking beyond Australia. "The drummer's from Indonesia so we've started promoting ourselves there and it's got a really good response from them." Could musical diplomacy succeed where Abbott failed?
I didn't see too much of the noodly, growly and by the onstage admission "a bit knackered" Neotokyo (they'd played a gig in Newcastle the night before and had endured a two-and-a-half-hour drive each way), but I did hear their stand-out closing song Neon.I didn't see too much of the noodly, growly and by the onstage admission "a bit knackered" Neotokyo (they'd played a gig in Newcastle the night before and had endured a two-and-a-half-hour drive each way), but I did hear their stand-out closing song Neon.
"It's a bit of a departure from our other material which is quite long and progressive," said guitarist Adam Furness. "It's much more radio-friendly – it comes in at under four minutes. We've had spins on digital radio but mainstream commercial radio's a little more difficult. You do have to have a craft that appeal to a wider range of people.""It's a bit of a departure from our other material which is quite long and progressive," said guitarist Adam Furness. "It's much more radio-friendly – it comes in at under four minutes. We've had spins on digital radio but mainstream commercial radio's a little more difficult. You do have to have a craft that appeal to a wider range of people."
The Hungry Mile followed, with a wonky banner they described as "awesome", a lot of charm and a grunge-tinged sound that was at once glossy and gritty. Their demeanour was ebullient, but the band's name comes from the area jobless wharf workers would walk in the Great Depression, and their songs had sharp, political lyrics and not a little depth. They offered to swap CDs for hugs, saying "all our music's free". If that's the case, they're underselling it.The Hungry Mile followed, with a wonky banner they described as "awesome", a lot of charm and a grunge-tinged sound that was at once glossy and gritty. Their demeanour was ebullient, but the band's name comes from the area jobless wharf workers would walk in the Great Depression, and their songs had sharp, political lyrics and not a little depth. They offered to swap CDs for hugs, saying "all our music's free". If that's the case, they're underselling it.
The band of the day, however, were Teal. Thanks to their mesmerising singer Joe Surgey, they came across like Muse fronted by James Brown. All in their early 20s, the band are fairly openly influenced by Radiohead, Mars Volta and At the Drive-In, their sound ranging from the angular to the operatic. Yet even if you disliked the music, which is more prog than punk, you would watch Teal just to see Surgey. Trembling and screaming in his Minecraft T-shirt, he is blatantly a star. Not surprisingly, the band got a riotous reception, and later won "best band" at the Locie awards which closed the night.The band of the day, however, were Teal. Thanks to their mesmerising singer Joe Surgey, they came across like Muse fronted by James Brown. All in their early 20s, the band are fairly openly influenced by Radiohead, Mars Volta and At the Drive-In, their sound ranging from the angular to the operatic. Yet even if you disliked the music, which is more prog than punk, you would watch Teal just to see Surgey. Trembling and screaming in his Minecraft T-shirt, he is blatantly a star. Not surprisingly, the band got a riotous reception, and later won "best band" at the Locie awards which closed the night.
"We've got a few people here who are quite avid followers," said Surgey, who is as bashful and low-key offstage as he is edge and intense on. "It's starting - it's on that snowball. We're just trying to get bigger – just do everything at once." Of all the bands on the bill, his stands the best chance."We've got a few people here who are quite avid followers," said Surgey, who is as bashful and low-key offstage as he is edge and intense on. "It's starting - it's on that snowball. We're just trying to get bigger – just do everything at once." Of all the bands on the bill, his stands the best chance.
• This article was amended on 23 December, 2013, to clarify that Ron Baumann is not a promoter of the Synesthesia Massivse
Our editors' picks for the day's top news and commentary delivered to your inbox each morning.Our editors' picks for the day's top news and commentary delivered to your inbox each morning.