On Friday 5th of February, deliciously rambunctious garage-pop-punk troubadours, Gooch Palms were set to unleash their unfiltered energy upon a rather suspecting Melbournian crowed. With the help of femme-rockers Lazertits and Southern manics Scotdrakula they were set for a wild night.
Fresh of their Ep release Auburgine Dreams, Lazertits opened the night, to the delight of an enthusiastic crowed, with their signature brand of unapologetic feminist rock.
Lazertits on stage chemistry flowed as they sang about sisterhood, periods, feminist porn, first year uni struggles, being lazy and calling out men’s entitlement towards women. Drummer, Emily Goodman, was a particular stand out with a surprisingly emotive performance that raised the bar without ever over indulging and smothering the band. Back and forth guitar and vocals, breakdowns and burn outs in ‘Very Berry Milkshake’ were gorgeous and tight.
Lazertits undeniably take time to politicize their music with statements on gender inequality in a male dominated world. It is telling that these very issues turns their most innocuous lyrics about their day-to-day events from a female perspective, political, regardless of intent. Social analysis aside, their sharp sardonic wit, scathing commentary and energetic enthusiasm is always a pleasure to watch.
Scotdrakula is what an unhinged Kings of Leon should have been. They take the best of school rock and roll the likes of James Brown and Bon Scott, shake it, electrify it and then set it on fire.
Electrifying is the most appropriate adjective for their performance. Wild eyed front man, Matt Neumann, wailed and screamed into the mic as they unleashed their frenetic rock. Proving themselves more than a one trick pony. Scotdrakular showed off a more nuanced kind of performance with slower ballads that offered a dynamic performance for the night. It was a perfect set up for the main performance.
The Gooch Palms took to the stage sporting their matching sweat suit jackets, face paint and chaotic vibes. Their presence had a strange but not unpleasant rehearsed feeling towards it. Leroy Macqueen, a camp, nasally rocker and Kat Friend, the badass-femme rocker that balances out the shambolic equation. Together they played off each other in what felt like a piss-take of the kids show host dynamics.
Macqueen’s vocals were frankly astounding. Releasing a deep, powerful and dynamic vocal range that could measure up against the best of the 1950’s rock. Flipping to a falsetto that could rival Frankie Valli with ease. Bringing out their trademark unpredictability, Macqueen sang references to the Australian confectionery, Roses. Had a crowed of punks sing along to backstreet boys, and brought out a crowed of a dozen or so punters to slow dance on stage to their beautifully mellow yet powerful ‘You’.
Friend’s unrelenting floor tom extravaganza and vocals, in tandem with Macqueen’s performance, were more than enough to smash out the wild all-encompassing show we have come to expect. Together the created a night of barely controlled, indulgent antics and wildly inappropriate rock. Just the way it should be.