I write riddled with 'Ronnies while Cyclone Alfred threatens to come through my window and take my lunch money. But plague, famine and tempest can’t keep Shock Value down. Cucked by Ex-boyfriend Alfred, the band had to cancel a bunch of gigs this weekend. We were lucky enough to see the Brisbane freak wizards across 2 days last month. I’d seen them before at a 4zzz FM carpark gig, supporting local favourites Fat Dog and the Tits. Impressed by their explosive stage presence, I jumped at the opportunity to see the high octane rock warriors. Huge thanks to Jacob McCann for the photos, shot on film and brought to you live. All the photos are crazy. so stick around for a mad gallery at the end.
Day 1:
Based on a diet consisting of fossil fuels and leather, they stole the stage at The Bearded Lady on Friday the 7th of February. The bands that night were off the nautical charts. Playing both days with Shock Value, we have Frenzee. Frenzee go hard. Greece-based Melbourne-born string-tinglers, Frenzee evaporate the stage and harvest adulation. Consisting of three siblings, the band has the power to make everyone within 53 meters jump and they can burst ear drums from afar. Supporting them, we have The Antics, from Melbourne. These dudes have the energy of a thousand tigers and their dictionaries misspelled ‘punk’ as ‘punch.’ Both bands played across the two days, crammed into hot little rooms and sweating it out. If you’ve not seen these bands live, you need to give them a fat squizz.
In between these bands’ palpitations, Shock Value take to the stage. Starting with a sea shanty sound-check and Jenny Craig on the line about an obese bass problem, we get the beautiful tones of the old country. CLANG. It’s time for some movement. The band comprises of George on the mic, and drumz, g-tar, long schlong bass and illegal keyboard. George is MIA, and they’re starting without him. The lights dim and he’s back with beer in-hand. We’re off to the races.
“Alright, alright. Everyone get in close.” A fondling of the guitar and some power moves, he’s cosplaying the windy wiggle-man out the front of the appliance store. Culturally appropriating noodles, George is on the floor already with blast beats firing and fluid string fingership filling our ear flaps. Navigating the stage, the second song starts with jelly legs and piano warfare. Crippled and hobbling, we get chugs of sunshine and 29 weet-bix. George is a man eternally at odds with gravity. His buttons are gone and the mic stand is in pieces.
Before the next rollicking, we get a lashing of comedy stand-up before launching into a gallop. A sweep of the guitar and they’re eating bass for lunch. The keyboard plays the note that haunts our nightmares. He’s playing guitar in one hand and the keys on the other. There’s a jump off the drumkit as George hi-fives the ceiling.
The crowd goes wild and joins in celebratory parkour, fuelled by sugar and pheromones. They’ve caught on and the phones are out; everyone wants to capture the wiggly worm oozing on the floorboards. The guitarist gets down low, on the hunt as a solo reshapes our kneecaps. Sweaty and sleek, the song takes a time-change and mic wrangler is back in the audience, freaking people out. Clothes clinging on for dear life and mic begging for mercy, it conks out and we rush to the keyboard for a new one. Some crowd work and 1 more song, the guitarist is banished to the naughty corner. Buy their merch.
We need a cigarette and psychological evaluation after that pounding. But it’s not over yet. All three of these bands scramble our eggs tomorrow night.
Day 2:
Taking over Ithaca Hall in Red Hill, the band line-up is bolstered by the chugging bellows of Care and zany upstarts Piss Off. Care have the smallest singer with the biggest fkn voice. Always belting, they fill the stage and the crowd is frothin'. Cantering basso continuo and scary guitar, Care have the girthiest dongs this side of a mirthy rock beat. Books and creaky town hall as the backdrop, the band dismantle the divide between performer and crowd.
Piss Off are next, with ‘Public Funds,’ and the kids go wild. Performing strictly stompers, I hope you’ve got a howdy pardner, because this one’s a hoe down. These bands have got some mad futures, if you ever have the chance you’ve got to check them out.
After a school camp pizza party, it’s time for the main event.
“Thank you to Pizza Hut for sponsoring this event.” The guitars are menacing, the drum skin taught. The bass is gurgling and the microphone is piercing. We jump straight into it. They brought a little stuffed teddy who I’ll be calling Greedy Graham. Sadly, he didn’t make it to the other side. strewn about while the dance moves begin, the little guy never had a chance. He and the WET FLOOR sign get aerial as the band slides into a dirty rendition of 'Bad Boy for Love'.
Tape and Graham's insides cover the floor and the sign is taking a beating. We’re dodging deadly projectiles as George catches poor little Greedy Graham. “You better not get him dirty! You better not have broken him!” Graham's on life support as garlic bread is shared around the stage between songs. And then the thrashing begins. There is a domino effect: Mic stand into wet floor sign into human. The chord is irreparably tangled. Mid-song, crowd and guitarist lend aid. “Bloomin’ hell!” the bass is galloping and George ragdolls into the audience. He slithers to the audio console, mixing, mastering, repairing and singing all at once.
The sound is repaired and a plectrum is lost. The floor is a zen garden of sweat. Consulting the tattered set list, the next song features the singer and bassist both screaming into the same mic. It’s a lurch before a hot facial melting from the guitar. THE DOOR IS UNSEALED. George is out of the building as far as his cable will take him. It’s become a street performance. The band rages on inside, while the humble Red Hill street-dwellers get a forceful injection of thick rock and/or roll. He explores not only the stage, but the great outdoors. Bringing the gig the masses.
A Bionicle Pokémon roll brings George back into the building and their last song is a wall of sound into whiplash. The guitarist is downlow, gunning us down. After the gig the stragglers clear out. A jam breaks out. Tinkling piano and muffled sound. Even after the gig, they’re still playing. I actually wish I’d stayed for the jam, but I was dead. Can't even imagine how fucked all the bands must be after shredding hard for two days straight.
What a fkn combo. Craziest two days. Catch these irrepressible whippersnappers at any of their upcoming gigs. Some have been scratched because Ex-boyfriend Alfie brought the end times, but they’re still on next week. Come see them this week to make up for all the gigs we missed from the cyclone.
The End.
SHOCK VALUE GIG GUIDE
7th March – PFR Lounge BRISBANE (cancelled)
8th March – Sunhead Records BRISBANE (cancelled)
13th March – (Destrends) BYRON BAY
14th March – (Destrends) Junk Bar BRISBANE
4th, 5th, 6th April - (Kim Salmon) Smoked Salmon Tour
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