Unknown Mortal Orchestra
The Corner Hotel, Richmond
Saturday 27 July 2013
Image courtesy of pitchfork.com
A raw, distorted soul-jangling soundscape of an audial miasma washes up and curls around me as I enter the venue mid-instrumental. Unknown Mortal Orchestra are completely unpretentious on the stage, strangely solid beings in the throbbing feedback. Singer, guitarist and songwriter Ruban Nielson, bassist Jake Portrait and drummer Riley Geare occupy the space casually, as if it’s accidental impromtpu busking at the local mall. The fuzzy soundwaves blow like a nostalgic, wind-tossed offering from a 60s surfer movie, complete with the sweet fragrant waft of a particular herb which emanates from the appropriately named Green Room.
‘Swim and Sleep (Like a Shark)’ goes down very well with the excited crowd; its soulful low fi psychedelia and plaintive, lonely vocals gathered up by the audience and savoured like a cob-webby anthem. It’s infectious, and it flows, and loosens up the transfixed beatnik audience into a leg stomping throng.
Geare’s drumming is super tight, and given the sometimes naval gazing meanderings of the lead guitar, crisp drums are what holds it together. For me, Geare was the surprise, shining star of the show. It’s refreshing, and rare, to stumble on good drumming. What I was expecting, was to be touched by the haunting, distinctive vocals of Nielson. It couldn't be helped.
‘Swim and Sleep (Like a Shark)’ goes down very well with the excited crowd; its soulful low fi psychedelia and plaintive, lonely vocals gathered up by the audience and savoured like a cob-webby anthem. It’s infectious, and it flows, and loosens up the transfixed beatnik audience into a leg stomping throng.
Geare’s drumming is super tight, and given the sometimes naval gazing meanderings of the lead guitar, crisp drums are what holds it together. For me, Geare was the surprise, shining star of the show. It’s refreshing, and rare, to stumble on good drumming. What I was expecting, was to be touched by the haunting, distinctive vocals of Nielson. It couldn't be helped.
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‘So Good At Being In Trouble’, a relaxed, self-admonishing poppish lament, hangs in the air. Nielson’s restrained vocals create a dreamscape of nostalgic sounds, edgy and reflective. He lounges about for much of the set, leaning against a podium onstage as if an invertebrate resisting gravity, and this fluidity is reflected in his musical style.
Image courtesy of fasterlouder.com.au
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His intricate guitar work is visionary, and I’ve heard him termed a virtuoso, but his brilliance is counterbalanced by an amiable, sloppy, whateverness. He actually stopped playing, smack bang in the middle of a song and... apologised, saying “Sorry, that bit is really hard. I think I’m too wasted. I hope you can forgive me. Do you forgive me?” Then, just as suddenly, he executes an incredible, quasi-ambient, furry acrobatic technical fingerpicking feat and it’s amazing. The audience erupts, and I just about DO forgive him. But still, I’m thinking, talented (insanely), original, distinctive and unaffected by commercialism - definitely... but professional musician? NOT ... I mean he’s making money from his art (presumably), but he’s not treating it like a profession, he doesn’t give a toss. But somehow this makes him very, very likable. He’s the guy you see down the street or at the local. He’s accessible. He’s unaffected by notoriety. And he doesn’t even have to try to be good.
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This is a rock gig, evident from the scattered horned hands in the air, but the sound is muted, like the band is playing at the bottom of a very deep pit, or the other end of a very long tunnel. |
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It’s not clear whether that’s the preferred sound of The Corner venue mix, or the sound the band are trying to achieve here. The recorded version of UMO is much cleaner, but live they bring glimpses of pure, unadulterated genius. Twisted, distorted froth reminiscent of the psychedelic sounds of the sixties conjures images of windswept coasts, paisley, tight jeans and acid. The jangly strains of ‘Bicycle’ sounds like it’s been broadcast through a 60s megaphone mounted on the roof of a Valiant station wagon at a community picnic. You can almost smell the freshly cut grass... uh, hold on, it IS grass.
Notable renditions included ‘Faded In the Morning’ and the inevitable ‘Ffunny Ffriends’, the underground creeper which gave a mysterious internet birth to the band.
Despite these flashes of unique gold, the muted mix meant that the performance just didn’t ever quite take off, fizzing like a firework spiraling into a tussock of damp grass, (pun intended) instead of exploding overhead like it should have.
Naomi Taig
Notable renditions included ‘Faded In the Morning’ and the inevitable ‘Ffunny Ffriends’, the underground creeper which gave a mysterious internet birth to the band.
Despite these flashes of unique gold, the muted mix meant that the performance just didn’t ever quite take off, fizzing like a firework spiraling into a tussock of damp grass, (pun intended) instead of exploding overhead like it should have.
Naomi Taig
Image courtesy of gapersblock.com
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Our favourite Unknown Mortal Orchestra video is for the track 'Swim and Sleep (Like a Shark)'. You can watch it on the videos page. Unknown Mortal Orchestra's stunning second album 'II' was the first MadfaMusic feature album and the video is posted there too.
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