In previous reviews the general superiority of Billboard as a venue has been mentioned and they remain applicable here; the light is better, the sound is good, the floor-design is excellent and they actually keep the place at a moderate temperature. With an audience of the usual suspects, The Damned came with two support acts. The first was some clown (I mean a magician) who didn’t like the fact the audience were indifferent to his tricks; the accusations of being on heroin and being a bunch of grey-haired “fruity arses” are obviously designed to endear us to the performance. To be fair ‘Dr El Suavo’ did have a cool mask and a stylish assistant, but the act and customer relations is going to need some improvement.

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The Clouds, The Wonder Stuff and Jesus Jones make a very good combination of acts, although holding the event at The Palace was a questionable choice. It is true, the triple split-level art noveau style from the early twentieth century has a great deal of dilapidated charm, but the acoustics are not the best. The three bands in question were, of course, very significant in the late 80s and early 90s but had only a modest amount of activity since then. As a result there was a fairly narrow age-band among the punters that had come along for the night.

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The Forum is one of Melbourne’s many stylish venues. Built in the 1920s it has a baroque level of art nouveau features with a high-level of Hellenic influence. Designed for theatre and ‘talkies’, as they called back then, it proved to be a somewhat unusual venue for Gary Numan’s tour for the thirtieth anniversary of Gary Numan’s 1979 LP The Pleasure Principle with local band Severed Heads in support. The austere electronica, “slow industrial” as one punter put it, was a seriously juxtaposition with the surroundings. One cannot sing great praises for the acoustics either. The high roof of the main hall was perhaps acceptable, but the speaker system for the low ceiling under the balcony was very ordinary. Clarity of sound shouldn’t be an issue with either of these performers.

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Melbourne’s famous alternative music venue ‘The Arthouse’ is closing its doors forever on May 1st due to issues caused by the same liquor licensing changes that closed ‘The Tote’ (now reopened under different management), compounded by a “frosty relationship” with the building’s owner.

It is however going out with a bang, with favourite acts that have played there in the past like Depression, Fuck I’m Dead, and Dreadnaught playing shows in its final weeks.

The early 1990s were a depressing time, and even more so in Victoria, Australia. The Gorbachev revolution, which successfully led to the unravelling of dictatorships in the Eastern bloc, failed to transform those countries to a more ideal model of libertarian socialism. In Victoria a thoroughly ideologue government was engaging in savage cuts to basic public services that Thatcher would have been envious. At one stage the state was losing one hundred people per day to other states, mainly teachers and nurses. And as for music, the rise and eventual dominance of house and dance music by the late ’80s was getting very tired. To be sure, it had rhythm, it was sensual, it was strongly associated with the rave scene culture and happy club drugs; but it most cases it was seriously lacking in substance.

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As they announced, these are the warriors on the edge of space and time. Now in their forty-second year of performance and correlating with the release of their twenty-sixth studio album, Blood of the Earth, Hawkwind still deliver the goods when it comes to their diverse blend of space rock, psychedelia, proto-punk, ambient and progressive rock. The crowd too reflected this diversity: ageing grey-beards in Black Sabbath, Deep Purple and Pink Floyd t-shirts, enthusiastic punks proclaiming their preferences to Conflict, D.O.A. and Black Flag, hard rockers in their AC/DC garb and even an eighties indie-pop fan with a Pixies shirt; that’s the sort of range and influence that one finds with Hawkwind. Although it must be mentioned that the crowd were about two-thirds blokes; being a participant in a science fantasy rock universe inspired by Michael Moorcock and Philippe Druillet is still something that some wimmin-folk are apparently less inclined towards.

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I just returned from the last of many gigs I saw at the Luminaire, and indeed, the last ever gig there.

The bands playing were SPC ECO (whom I, alas, missed), Ringo Deathstarr (a band from Texas who are one of the better exponents of the shoegaze revival, mixing it with a bit of driving garage rock) and the latest incarnation of noir expressionists Piano Magic, whose first song, appropriately enough, began with “Music won’t save you from anything but silence”.

The Luminaire was (it feels odd to use the past tense, knowing it’s accurate as of maybe an hour ago as I write this) one of London’s better music venues. It suffered from being in the wrong part of London, in Kilburn, in the north-west, when the music scene started to solidify around the hipster lek of Shoreditch/Hoxton/Dalston. However, it had a number of advantages: a great atmosphere, good sound, and the famous signs on the walls, advising punters, in no uncertain terms, that if they came to talk to their pals while the band was playing, they were unwelcome. This made it more amenable to listening to the music, even if the bands weren’t balls-to-the-wall rock; you knew the bands didn’t have to compete with a bunch of loud haircuts at the front, standing with their backs to the stage and discussing who’s shagging whom in fashion school.

Now, the music has stopped and the punters have left. Soon they’ll paint over the famous black walls, sandblast the layers of stickers off the bathrooms, and remove the red velvet curtains and mirror ball, and so, a sacred space is deconsecrated. Perhaps it’ll become luxury flats, or be subdivided into cheap, miserable bedsits.

I remember the loss of another sacred space of music, nine years earlier and half a world away. It’s now a trendy pizza parlour which plays canned house/dance music to its fashion-conscious patrons, its artificially distressed walls adorned with an oversized kewpie doll. Before then, it was the place legends were born. The Lucksmiths wrote a song in memory of this venue; it’s playing as I write this, in memory of it, the Luminaire and all other sacred spaces now lost.

The Big Day Out is Australia’s largest touring rock festival. Just how male dominated is a mainstream rock festival these days? The stats in detail at The Flying Blogspot. A not entirely surprising teaser stat: the number of performers on the two main stages that do not have a penis was 0.

This post was submitted by Dave Cake.

A tribute to the bands from the period 1979-1984 known as the New Wave Of British Heavy Metal (NWOBHM), this was 79 Revisited‘s first gig in nearly six months due to the ill health of founding member Matt Hankin, with openers Embrace the Ashes in their first pub gig, playing original death metal and showing promise; Followed by Mindroom, seasoned musicians playing hard rock classics fronted by Liz Galea (Amethyst, Slip Of The Tongue)

79 Revisited’s set showed Hankin well recovered and the band solid despite foldback problems. Crowd favourites like “Angel Witch” by Angel Witch and Diamond Head‘s “Am I Evil” (recorded by Metallica as the b-side to their ‘Creeping Death’ single, Lars Ulrich being a big fan of the NWOBHM) were interspersed with three new (old) songs including “Burnin’ White Hot” by Damacles showcasing guitarist Bob Miller, not surprising as he was in that band! The climax of the set was Iron Maiden‘s “Hallowed Be Thy Name”, with vocalist Josef Stanley nailing it despite suffering from a cold, and the guys from Embrace The Ashes moshing up the front, an appreciation of this important era brought to a new generation.

Disclaimer: redcountess is a friend of 79 Revisited and was their guest at this gig.

The final night of a tour is special. When the band has been touring two years and the last night is in your home town, it’s very special. And when the band is Metallica and you’ve been a fan for 25 years, well, let’s just say it’s a big fucking deal!

Based on past form however I was expecting to be disappointed, remembering well the cabaret style medley of songs from Kill ‘Em All Metallica did the last time I had seen them live in 1998 also at Rod Laver Arena, although I was also encouraged by footage from the ‘Big Four’ concert in Sofia and prepared to see a band that had pretty much become The Rolling Stones of Heavy Metal (which is no bad thing)

On Sunday night I was pleasantly surprised and delighted to find Metallica neither of these. Maybe it was sheer relief that the tour was over but they played well and showed enthusiasm, although hampered by a muddy sound mix. There were no long solos, another drawback in 1998, instead we got a few brief interludes that segued well into the songs. Only two songs from Death Magnetic, which I had wanted to hear more from to see how the songs fared live considering how compresed they were on the album, and none at all from St Anger or Load (although we got “Fuel” from Reload), instead we were treated with some rare gems like “Call of Ktulu” from Ride The Lightning, all accompanied by a light show and pyros that complimented rather than detracted from the songs.

Concert photos by redcountess.

I originally picked up a Rocknerd account so I could review international acts from non-crap bands that made it to the great southern lands. Well, that was over a year ago and I have a small backlog of material. So using a stack method (last in, first out) this piece will be brief review of two reformed 80s semi-intelligentsia synth-pop acts who performed at the Rod Laver Arena in Melbourne on Wednesday April 21 – Tears for Fears and Spandau Ballet. OK, so this is Rocknerd, not Popnerd. Next review will be the Buzzcocks.

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The last song of the last night, “My Pal” by the Drones with Joel Silbersher, on video.

And, of course, the 7:30 Report. Now, I remember Hamish Fitzsimmons as my mate the Perth bass player who I swapped my 6-UVS T-shirt for a Mustang! Beer Makes You Smart shirt … just the man you want on this story.

The epic tale of how Deathboy supported Tricky. Includes handy hints on getting a free hotel stay.

Patti Smith entered St Giles In The Fields, a small but beautiful working church built in the 18th Century in the heart of London with her band and a big smile on her face under her broad brimmed hat. The pastor that introduced her spoke of her love for the church, and that her appearance this evening was in aid of the restoration of the church’s organ which has pipes dating from the 17th Century. I had waited 29 years to see Patti Smith, and despite the lack of her more prurient material like Because The Night and Gloria, I was not disappointed.

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Bird Blobs: Ian Wadley is the greatest guitarist in rock. Vodka Party: have a tuba. A good night surrounded by unfamiliar attractive people.

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It’s too loud and I’m too old. But a good cause, a good show (The Redresser, Mustang, Casanovas, Speed Demons, Fez Perez and Six Foot Hick), a full house and a good time had by all who survived.

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It’s your turn to write something. I’d like you all to list what gigs you’re thinking of attending in the coming week (the rock week going, of course, from Wednesday to Wednesday), a bit about each show and why you consider it a serious prospect.

(Melbourne readers may find the Beat gig guide useful as a crib sheet, assuming Beat remembers to update it this week.)

My own weekend is filled with social interaction of a nonmusical nature on Friday and Saturday. But on Thursday, I will be going to see Tankt, an electronic band (the bleep end of “industrial”), at 9th Ward (cnr Flinders Lane and Elizabeth Street). Principal in the band is Jarod Smullen, a fine fellow who is nearly as arrogant about music as me; I’ve decided I’ve got to check out what he produces himself. (MP3s available on the band website.)

And yours?

According to Whammo, the Continental is to return as a live venue.

“The good news is that while the Continental Cafe will change names and hands, it will most likely remain a live music venue, with a downstairs venue, a bar and a restaurant included. After the furore at the news of the venue’s closer, current landlord Morris Libermann has found a new tenant who will continue to run the premises in Greville St, Prahran, as a music venue.”

This despite reports on RRR Breakfast from those who’ve seen the inside of the place stripped back already.

Jodi Phillis: What you’d expect, well worth not missing. Fibrotown: Country indie rock, surprisingly good. Cornish Arms: Good venue. Rating: Damn fine night out.

Missed the first band, Grandview, who started unnaturally early. (Nine or something; normal start at the Cornish Arms is apparently 9.30, we arrived just before ten).

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