Report: Hobart + Music = Yeah!

RENÉ SCHAEFER reports from the weekend’s Hobart + Music = Yeah! mini-festival, where his band Aktion Unit were among several acts being ferried between lounge rooms on a rainy Sunday in Hobart. Photos courtesy CLONES AND CLONES.

As far as Australian music festivals go, this was a very grassroots affair, with most performances taking place at people’s houses throughout the day. A bus ferried people from one venue to the next, before the magical mystery tour culminated with a “proper” evening gig at the Brisbane Hotel. The intimate and informal setting of the performance spaces meant that this was as much a celebration of community as it was a local music showcase. The sense of camaraderie and goodwill was obvious from the start. As with any festival, it was almost impossible to see every single act, so most of the 80-odd attendees treated it as one long party that spilled out into the rain-soaked gardens and streets.

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.]

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.]

Arriving at Venue One, festival co-organiser Jordan Marson’s house in Sandy Bay, bands and punters were greeted like long-lost friends and plied with Bloody Marys and bowls of chips. The living room “stage” was decorated with an elaborate wall-sized cardboard installation, consisting of hundreds of cut-out circles, skulls and weapons. Drummer-less trio The Breeze impressed right away with their take on New Zealand-style jangle pop. The music was downbeat and intricate, yet even without percussion it was driven along by solid bass lines and interlocking electric guitar parts. The boy/girl vocals were a little indistinct at times, but added another melodic layer to their swirling sound.

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.]

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.]

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.]

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.]

Experimental sound artist Matt Niedra chose to perform in the tiny laundry, which meant that only about five people were able to see him from close up. Playing a homemade instrument that resembled the innards of an old ham radio, Niedra created various electronic frequencies that he modulated with a series of dials and switches that he kept connecting with a tangle of patch leads like a mad scientist. The resulting mix of tones and static buzzes were surprisingly captivating and the set could easily have lasted twice as long without getting boring.

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.]

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.]

For something completely different, The Anorexic Olsen Twin played an acoustic set in the hallway, utilising an upright piano, guitars and fiddles. Their feral folk and gypsy-inspired racket in places recalled the work of old-school Adelaide crusty punks The Bedridden, with almost shouted vocal declamations and frantic guitar strumming. Then it was back to the living room, where Melbourne band Tantrums intrigued the locals with a blend of electronic-based songs that were complex, yet still danceable. Synths, drum machine and laptop almost added a trip-hop element at times, while guitar and bass anchored Tantrums’ sound firmly in an indie pop tradition.

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.]

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.]

[Historical image is withheld pending rights review.]

It was time for everyone to pile in the bus for the ride to Venue Two, across town in South Hobart. A slightly smaller house meant that it was harder to catch a glimps of all the bands, so my experience of Tiger Choir, Zeal and Spheres was limited to listening from the porch, while discussing the state of the Tasmanian scene with stalwart independent music enthusiast Andrew Harper. The upshot was that it’s as healthy and active as it has always been, despite a false reputation as being a small and insular scene festering away in the physical and psychic isolation of the island state. In fact, the opposite is true, as more and more Tassie bands make an impact on the mainland without feeling the need to relocate across the Bass Strait.

One performance I did manage to catch was a renegade set by a guy called Adam, who played a groaning old electric home organ in the garage, singing his songs unamplified. The effect of being crammed in this dimly lit, dank space and straining to hear was quite atmospheric, as a steady drizzle of rain fell on the corrugated tin roof.

At Venue Three, a sprawling mansion located on the top of a hill in West Hobart, The Native Cats played as dusk fell. Being one of the most popular local groups, the large living room was quite crowded and with a light show and quite clearly demarcated stage area, this started to resemble something like a proper rock gig. With Amplified Music Award nominee Julian Teakle on bass and Peter Escott on vocals, The Native Cats played a set of mostly unfamiliar material, which easily rivaled the quality of their album. Escott’s contribution of minimal electronics was a bit more to the fore than on previous outings. Teakle was kind enough to give me a copy of the vinyl version of the album, recently released on American label Ride The Snake. It’s well worth seeking out.

I missed Transcriptions Of Organ Music as it was time for Aktion Unit to set up. It was our first time playing in Hobart, and we were uncertain of how our distinctly messy take on improvised noise rock would be received here. As it turned out, the crowd liked it just fine – perhaps it had something to do with us playing for 12 minutes? We had enlisted Melbourne solo artist Daisy Buchanan on vocals and Tantrums’ Jade McInally on drums to bolster our racket and the screeched and thundered away enthusiastically. I cut my fingers and bled on Teakle’s beautiful white Fender bass. Several people punched the air and the ever-opinionated Harper enjoyed it, so I guess we did OK.

In complete contrast, Parking Lot Experiments were one of the most fun and upbeat groups of the day. They were bouncy, they were happy, they bantered between songs, and their drummer jumped up and down a lot. They are probably pretty sick of being compared to The Animal Collective, but probably not as sick as music writers are of having to make the comparison.

The last venue of the night was The Brisbane Hotel, and the dissimilarity to the preceding afternoon could not have been greater. A $20 cover charge for the main room, to accommodate headlining US band Xiu Xiu, meant that a lot of the crowd decided to stay in the front bar. As a result, Melbourne noise rockers The Stabs played to a undersized audience. Lacking somewhat in both enthusiasm and volume, they played a short set and then disappeared into the night, leaving the crowd to scratch their heads. At least they didn’t try to kill each other, as sometimes happens when they aren’t having a great show.

The real action was in the front bar though, where solo performer Chrysalis played a short, powerfully brutal noise set, before Kind Winds took to the stage. These guys have been around for quite a long time, playing sporadically for over a decade and a half now, with singer/guitarist Colin Henry being the only constant member. In recent times though, the addition of Robert Johnston on drums has solidified the band’s line-up and they are now almost a proper group. Playing more frequently has definitely paid off, as their songs were tight, noisy and cohesive. As one of the few bands from the mythical Hobart scene of 1995 to still be around, one might be tempted to call them a heritage act, but if they keep making music of this quality, their time might only just be arriving.

My ears exhausted from a day of music, I forwent the dubious pleasure of checking out Xiu Xiu, and I wasn’t alone in this choice. Later reports indicated a fairly pedestrian performance from the Brooklyn group, matched with a lukewarm reception from the small crowd. Consensus among punters and festival organisers after the gig was that an event like this doesn’t really need an international headliner, or to incorporate a traditional rock venue, to attract an audience.

The beauty of Hobart + Music = Yeah! was its intimacy, and on that level the festival well and truly succeeded. Local and visiting bands enjoyed the experience of making new likeminded friends. To use the old cliche, it was about networking and supporting DIY culture as much as having a kick-arse party, with no expectation of making a profit or boosting the organisers’ egos. Put simply, it was one of the best festivals I’ve attended.