St Jerome’s is the BEST. FESTIVAL. EVAR.. No ifs. No buts. The BEST.

Every year, the acts are well chosen, the venue is superb, and the vibe is shockingly pleasant and, dare I say it, grown up. Perhaps the greatest indication of how great the atmosphere is can be summed up by two things:

1. The number of shirtless, Australian flag carrying, southern cross tattooed yobs in attendance: zero - in fact, I didn’t see a single shirtless male, which means no sweaty, icky unpleasantness as people push past you.
2. The music played between sets was not the usual inappropriateness (seriously Enmore Theatre? Sinatra between Grinderman and The Bad Seeds?) but included songs like Lisztomania by Phoenix. It’s a small thing, but this sort of attention to detail makes a real difference.

The change of venue from Macquarie Park in the CBD to the Sydney College of the Arts (SCA) in Rozelle had the potential to be a disaster, as the temptation to add more tickets and ruin the vibe was a possibility. I shouldn’t have worried though, because the venue not only maintained the intimate feel of the CBD location, but was set amongst beautiful sandstone buildings, complete with the obligatory “sniper goes crazy on campus” clocktower. The new venue is, well, it’s a bazillion times better than the old one, in every way, and about the best venue I’ve been to.

And the music? Whoever selects the acts is a genius. If the only new CDs you stumbled across each year were acts playing at St Jerome’s, you’d have a great collection. The move to the SCA, and the accompanying reduction in the number of stages from four to three, seemed to have the effect of concentrating the quality, although the lack of the usual off-the-wall craziness may not have made everyone happy. Then again, if you really need to see a man in a Darth Vader costume play a toy piano two years in a row, you probably need help.

The standouts of the show, beyond the Vibe, where this year’s Zeitgeist band, Mumford and Sons, and my personal favourite band, Frightened Rabbit.

Mumford and Sons set left me one massive regret: that I didn’t get tickets to their sideshow. Their set was pure brilliance, and achieved the rare feat of being best when it was quiet. Getting a festival crowd to sing the harmony to a song that has had as much airplay as Little Lion Man, or to go crazy when the tempo is up, is easy. Getting a restless crowd to remain still and quiet whilst you sing heart wrenching lyrics like “So tell me now where was my fault, in loving you with my whole heart” is the sign of an original and hypnotic band. Mumford And Sons popularity in Australia should mean they’ll be back before soon, though praise Jebbers it won’t be at a shite festival like The BDO, and if you get a chance to see them, do.

But the best performance of the day, played at the ludicrously early time of 2:25 in the afternoon in sweltering heat, was Scottish band Frightened Rabbit. Maybe it is because Midnight Organ Fights is my favourite album of the last 5 years, but I just don’t get but how Frightened Rabbit aren’t more popular here, and playing at a later, more reasonable hour.

To say I had high expectations of this set would be like saying The Beatles were an OK group, and had a few catchy songs. I literally punched the wall when I read the announcement they were playing. From the opening accidental acapella of Modern Leper through The Twist, Backwards Walk and a new song that was really good, Frightened Rabbit didn’t disappoint.

There is something compelling, heartbreaking and powerful about every single Frightened Rabbit song. Each song builds so well, they lyrics are superb (Midnight Organ Fight is the best Euphemism for sex ever) and, for a Scottish band playing in heat they have probably rarely experienced, the energy and passion they played with, so key to the atmosphere of the album, was extraordinary. I honestly thought lead singer Scott Hutchison was going to pass out at least twice, and his brother and drummer Grant, who pulls the best Drummer’s face ever, was so dripping with sweat he looked like he had taken a dip in the harbour. Yet through it all, they sang and played every note like it mattered.

Even better, due to the vagaries of the Australian music listening public, I get to see them perform all over again at a free (as in Beer) gig at the Beach Road Hotel in Bondi Wednesday night. Frightened Rabbit playing a free gig 200 metres from my home is like all my Christmases came at once.

As for the other acts, no one disappointed. In the order I watched them:

• Black Gold were really good which is hard as the first act of the day.
• Seekae suffered the indignity of a sitting crowd, not the best look for an electronic act, but played a solid set. Would really like to see them in a dingy room sometime.
• Oh Mercy surprised me, I thought their album was a tad bland, but they were good live.
• Hockey, whose album Mind Chaos was made to be played live, were solid, although the hgeat took its toll, with the lead singer looking like he was going to faint on several occasions (although maybe he is always that pale) and he had trouble keeping up with the fast tempo of their songs on occassion. Despite this, it was a really good set.
• Wild Beasts played on a stage that had a lot of shade (i.e. I can’t remember much else).
• Black Lips featured the oldest (average age probably 30), most smiley moshpit in history… and put on a frenetic and entertaining show, which I really didn’t expect and really enjoyed.
• Dappled Cities, clad in the extremely weather-inappropriate gold spandex uniforms, were upbeat and vibrant, and the song they performed with Sarah Blasko was great.
• And last (and sadly least), the half of Echo and the Bunnymen I saw, before sunburn forced me to retire early, hurt, seemed OK. To be fair, I was a bit headspin-y.

In the final washup, St Jerome’s is my personal musical highlight of the year. A music festival for grownups who love music, staged by people who not only love music, but love finding great, but not super popular, acts. The organisers do an unbelievable job catering to their audience, with short bar queues, tasty and varied food and, as a man, non-existent queues to the toilets, although the angry, 120kg Lesbian bouncer who kept women from using the male toilets rather ironically didn’t make many women happy.

I can’t wait until next year’s St Jeromes, and want to thank whoever runs the event for not only putting on, year in, year out, the best festival I have ever been to, but also giving me solid cliff notes on what acts to listen to. Kudos, thank you and see you next year.

Hordern Pavilion
August 2nd, 2008

I don’t believe in God, but after seeing Sigur Ros at the Hordern Pavilion I’m left with a burning conundrum: who am I supposed to thank for the fact that they exist? It seems a wonderful and unlikely miracle that music so uniquely and sublimely beautiful can be created so consistently. Listening to their recordings is a joy – seeing them perform live is close to divine. Read the rest of this entry »

If ever there was an album that has all the hallmarks of a wanky, aweful, overwrought, terribly pretentious piece of crap, this be that album.

Sufjan Stevens set himself the task of writing one album for each of the 50 states of the United States of America. In this installment, Sufjan pays homage to Illinois, home of Chicago and, well, research is what Wikipedia is for. Go use it

No one can say with a straight face, not even Sufjan, that that all 50 albums are ever likely to happen. Nor, I would venture, would many people think this was anything but a wanky idea by a pretentious tosser likely to be about as musically valid as most every non-Sargeant Peppers concept album ever released. And it gets worse, as the song titles are amonsgt the longest ever (see song two below), and are often longer than the song they describe.

All of this seems to indicate taht the Gods have aligned all the cards to make this one of the worst releases ever. And yet somehow, God knows how, but somehow, the complete opposite is true, and this is one of my favourite albums of all time.

Sufjan somehow manages to make the external settings play out as an inner dialogue of self questioning in a way that is just so real. Sufjan manages to take places, the river Decatur, and turn it into a stirring, personal song about stepmothers and children; take a serial killing child molesterer like John Wayne Gacy and turn it into a story about the secrets we all hide.

Look, my inner cynic wants to hate this album, with every pretentious hatin’ bone in my body. It wants to not only hate but . But this album is just too good. My God, is it good. It is abso-fucking-lutely awesome, jaw droppingly, hairs standing up good. Highlight after highlight after highlight that just grows with every listen.

This is one album you just have to buy.

Track listings

1. Concerning The UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinois
2. The Black Hawk War, Or, How To Demolish An Entire Civilization And Still Feel Good About Yourself In The Morning, Or, We Apologize For The Inconvenience But You’re Gonna Have To Leave Now, Or, ‘I Have Fought The Big Knives And Will Continue To Fight…
3. Come On! Feel The Illinoise!: Part I: The World’s Columbian Exposition/Part II: Carl Sandburg Visits Me In A Dream
4. John Wayne Gacy, Jr.
5. Jacksonville
6. A Short Reprise For Mary Todd, Who Went Insane, But For Very Good Reasons
7. Decatur, Or, Round Of Applause For Your Stepmother!
8. One Last ‘Whoo-Hoo!’ For The Pullman
9. Chicago
10. Casimir Pulaski Day
11. To The Workers Of The Rock River Valley Region, I Have An Idea Concerning Your Predicament
12. The Man Of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts
13. Prairie Fire That Wanders About
14. A Conjunction Of Drones Simulating The Way In Which Sufjan Stevens Has An Existential Crisis In The Great Godfrey Maze
15. The Predatory Wasp Of The Palisades Is Out To Get Us!
16. They Are Night Zombies!! They Are Neighbors!! They Have Come Back From The Dead!! Ahhhh!
17. Let’s Hear That String Part Again, Because I Don’t Think They Heard It All The Way Out In Bushnell
18. In This Temple As In The Hearts Of Man For Whom He Saved The Earth
19. The Seer’s Tower
20. The Tallest Man, The Broadest Shoulders: Part I: The Great Frontier/Part II: Come To Me Only With Playthings Now

Like A Version Two

I really loved the first version of Like A Version (try saying THAT ten times quickly), so when the latest copy of J Mail, the JJJ newsletter, hit my inbox, the sucker impulse buyer in me decided to purchase it on the spot and…

I am not sure about this one.

For those that don’t know, Like A Version is a segment on Mel Bmpton’s morning show on JJJ, in which nbands peform covers of other artists songs. Version one was exellent, with some awesome songs and moments. This CD, OTOH, well, hmmmm…

There are some definite highlights. The Herd’s I was Only 19 is fantastic, its commercial success is testament that. I also really loved 67 Special’s rendition of Missy Higgins ubiquitous hit Scar. It took me a bit to work out what the hell it was, and it is certainly a unique and original take on a song we have all heard way too many times.

Other excellent versions include The Mountain Goats Wild World, an old Birthday party Song, and Kate Miller-Heidke Bad Seeds cover, Little Water Song.

But it also has a few lowlights. I relly didn’t like Lior’s version of Neil Diamond’s Needle and the Damage Done. It felt far too sweet fora song about junkies, and was a completely disasterous mismatch.

Like the first version, the real highlight of the CD is simply the curios songs artists chose to cover. The Eels cover Prince, Sarah Blasko does Elon John (a statement unlikely to ever be more than a lucky entendre), and New Buffalo sings a Nina Simone classic.

I guess I am somewhat happy I bought this CD (and especially glad the delivery guy found me, as I mixed up my unit and street numbers, idiot I am), but not half aa glad as I was when I bought the original, and I really can’t recommend it.

Buy It Online @ The ABC Shop

Track Listing

I am so very, very glad I bought this. I ummed, I ah-ed, it took forever to get here (shite customer service by My ABC BTW, as I had to chase THEM, tsk tsk) but when it arrived, it was a good day indeed.

What started as a regular segment on Mel Bampton’s JJJ morning show is now a CD, and thank bloody goodness. There are so many excellent songs on this CD, and so few lowlights.

From Darren Hanlon’s ucalaylee version of Fleetwood Mac’s Don’t Stop to Speedstar’s homage to the Smith’s There is A Light That Never Goes Out and The Cat Empire’s Hotel California, performed in French, most every song is superb.

There are several things that really make an album like this worth listenning to; the odd combinations, the opportunity to find songs one forgot one loved, or never heard before, and the versions of songs one never could have imagined.

From the first category, The Pictures hillarious take on Kellis’s Milkshake is a good laugh, and actually not a bad listen.

In the second category falls the aforementioned Georgeous version of Little Suicides and, for those without a David Bowie obsession, the many Bowie songs covered, the originals of which are excellent.

But the absolute highlight, the hairs standing up on the back of your neck moment, is Big Heavy Stuff’s accoutic, chelo based version of Bjork’s techno classic Hyperballad. I never would have thought, in my wildest dreams, that the first techno song I ever I liked, would work as an accoustic version. Not only was I proven wrong, but this song is truly a standout that is stands on its own feet, even without knowing the original.

The only moments that dissapoints are the songs that too closely resemble their original version, especially Salmonella Dub’s Get Up Stand Up, which sounds like pretty much every party where someone plays guitar, Love Outside Andromeda’s Andy Warhol, essentially identical to Bowie’s, and, though I hate to admit it because it is so F-ing beutiful, Gorgeous cover of the Golden Palaminos Little Suicides.

So, should you buy it? No. Not unless you either spend all your hard earned cash on music or you really love Bjork, because Big Heavy Stuff’s Hyperballad is so good, it alone is reason enough to buy the CD.

Buy It Online @ The ABC Shop

Track Listing

In entertainment news, US Rapper ‘lil Killer G Doggy Dog has taken Rolling Stone Magazine to court in an attempt to have details of his childhood Chess Prodigy past suppressed.

‘lil Killer G Doggy Dog

Rolling Stone allegedly uncovered this tawdry secret whilst doing a piece on ‘lil Killer G (real name Andrew Smith) after his Grammy nominated debut album, “%#%$# the &^$^%$ in the &&^%^ hood” went platinum. Several “irregularities” were uncovered in ‘lil Killer G’s story of his childhood, including claims he spent years in “the system” for a murder he claimed to have committed at age 8, leading Rolling Stone to dig a little deeper.

The subsequent investigation uncovered his rather happy and affluent past in upstate New York, and the alleged Chess ability. The story threatens to be the biggest entertainment story of the year, and is tipped to derail the once promising career of a man who Rolling Stone itself had just two months previously proclaimed “the likely heir to the Tuppac crown”.

A spokesperson for Rolling Stone refused to officially comment, due to ongoing legal battles, but The Yowie has confirmed through Upstate New York Chess Confederation secretary Judith Morrison that ‘lil Killer G was indeed a chess star, with Ms Morrison stating that “Andrew was one of my favourites. A really lovely, polite and well groomed young man, who came from two fine parents, both doctors”. This is significantly at odds with his self proclaimed past of struggle and triumph over adversity, in which he claims he never met his father, and hs mother abandoned him at age 7.

A spokesman for the noted gangsta rapper declined to comment on the specifics of the case, but did said the ‘lil Killer G camp would fight what he called “spurious and false allegations to the bitter, murderous end”. He also maintained the party line that ‘lil Killer G was indeed a “gangsta of the worst kind”, who was “much more likely to commit a major, violent felony like assault, rape, heck even murder, than ponder the relative value giving up a pawn for a bishop”.

‘lil Killer G’s management team went further in their suit, released Thursday, in which they claimed that the Chess Prodigy stories were a “beat up” and a “pathetic attempt to silence the spokesman of his generation”.

Online, fans of ‘lil Killer G have shown almost unanimous support, with one poster, who went by the handle ‘lil Killer B, pointing to a “whiteyman (sic) conspiracy to silence the black man and keep uppity n**** down”.

The case is set down to be heard Monday morning, anda prominant legal expert told The Yowie that “Andrew is screwed. I mean, that being a chess prodify is bad for hsi curent profession is not grounds for any sort of suppression i am aware of.”

Added: ‘lil Killer B has been revealed as Baltimore youth Daniel O’Hare, who apparently is not only white, but also attends an exclusive Baltimore private school. Daniel’s parents have since made him appologise for his comments online, which they described as “rascist and derogatory”.

This will, no doubt, fall upon deaf ears. Yowie readers, so far as my research reveals, have the musical sensibility of an apeman banging two rocks together. So ponder this, intellectual atavists, as you read this review, with your cro-magnon faces screwed up in concentration, you are exhibiting the exact expressions of a babboon with a Rubics Cube.

Classikon’s new release of Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto Number Three is a masterpiece.

I bet there’s a lot of new and unfamiliar words in that sentence! How about we start with the word ‘three’? It’s the minimum number of beers you consume before you drive. Understand?

Pianist Tamas Vasary and Conductor Yuri Ahronovitch have combined with the London Symphony Orchestra to produce a fresh and exciting version of the most uplifting and demonically difficult scores ever written. Listeners are treated to dizzying arpeggios exquisitely counterpointing tender pastorals. The music flows from thunderous fortissimos and ebbs to hypnotic, leisurly pianissimos.

Not that you barbarians care.You wouldn’t see musical discrimination if it strapped a marital aid to its head, set its hair on fire, and danced on a blood soaked Swastika. I hesitate to use the term ‘casting pearl before swine’ however no readier colloquialism presents itself.

Don’t bother listening to this CD, you’re too ignorant to appreciate it. The more daring amongst you, however, might profit from using it as a coaster.