Tag Archive for "The Troubadour"
Husker Du probably never got their fair dues and although they seem to be one of the few bands that haven’t jumped on the reunion bandwagon in recent times (other than for two songs as part of a benefit for Soul Asylum bassist Karl Mueller back in 2004), Bob Mould and Grant Hart seem to have never got over their animosity for each other and in all fairness they probably didn’t have the widespread appeal to make a reunion an all conquering and financial success. They’re probably much more of a musicians band, evident by a lot of Brisbane musos in attendance for Grant Hart’s solo gig at The Troubadour tonight, including Robert Forster and various members of Screamfeeder, Halfway and Yves Klein Blue.
Although I prefer a lot of Grant Hart’s Husker Du songs over Bob Mould’s, Copper Blue and Beaster by Bob Mould’s post-Husker Du band Sugar are still two of my favourite 1990s albums. Copper Blue was NME’s Album Of The Year in 1992, rated above some fairly notable other albums released that year, although it feels like it’s one of those albums that has been lost to the masses through the ongoing celebration of all things Seattle from that period.
When Grant Hart slips quietly onto the stage and starts playing tonight you can’t help but wonder if it’s going to be a repeat of Evan Dando’s gig at The Zoo last year, with him machine-gunning through his songs with little much in the way of conversation with the audience. At the end of the first song he berates the people sat at the front for being sat down, and follows it up with “I’m a little curious” before playing Don’t Want To Know If You Are Lonely as the second song, something that gets a couple of girls straight down the front for a dance, although they vanish towards the back at the song’s end. As well as the dancing there was much waving of hands in the air, something of an annoyance when trying to photograph and keep to a 3 song limit for good practice.
But the more the gig went on the more he really opened up, showing himself to be very affable and in good humour as well as being very sharp. LOTS of Husker Du songs are played; something I guess you’d hope for and expect but something not always delivered by solo artists with new albums to promote and who want to leave the past well behind them. But his new stuff fits in well with the back catalogue and there’s some great songs on his new album Hot Wax. Playing solo, his heavy use of a phaser/flanger gives a number of songs a very psychedelic fee
He was due to start at 10:30pm but started a bit after this and didn’t finish up until after 12:20am, what I’d consider a REALLY late hour for a Wednesday night gig; not all of us are students, unemployed or work in media or music industry. There’s much talk at the moment about the state government’s proposed move to make pubs and clubs shut down at 2am, which has raised the ire of a large number of people, the creation of the obligatory Facebook site (over 11,000 members at time of writing), and a call to march on state parliament in opposition to their plans (although it does bring a wry smile to my face that they’ve arranged the march to start at 4pm on a weekday when a large proportion of the population are going to be at work).
But, you know, until fairly recently pubs in England shut at 11 and most clubs did at 2 or 3am. And it’s not like the UK is found wanting when it comes to drinking culture and music scenes. The solution is pretty easy; go out earlier. Go the Valley, even on a Friday or Saturday night and it’s not that busy at 8 or 9pm compared to what it’s like at 1am. Go to a gig in London and it’ll be over by about 11pm; it has to be as everyone uses public transport and needs to get home. Headline acts finish in the UK at the time that many of those at Australian gigs are starting. Having been up since before 7am, often feeling tired and knowing that I have to also get up before 7am in the morning often makes going to see a band a lot less enjoyable than it should be.
To me, the recent Marianne Faithfull gig that was all over by 10pm on a Saturday night was great; it started at a sensible time (8pm, although admittedly there was no support) and ended at a sensible time and I had the option to stay out or not. Likewise Ric’s having earlier shows (although to be honest set times at 7pm and 8pm probably is slightly too early) has to be a good thing; there have been plenty of bands play there over the last few years that I had planned to see but didn’t want to stay out all night and ended up being too settled to want to go out at 10pm on a weeknight to see. Anyway feel free to comment.
A few more Grant Hart photos on Flickr.
As I said at the time, I was very impressed when I first saw Timothy Carroll, when he supported Texas Tea at their album launch last year; a set of really nice songs, with excellent melodies sung beautifully, especially the vocal contributions of The Troubadour’s Corinna Scanlon who I didn’t realise sang up until that point.
Tonight is a launch for Timothy Carroll’s debut album, ‘For Bread & Circuses‘. There is a strangeness about attending an album launch gig on Sunday, even though there is a very good turnout at The Troubadour, with most people appearing to be on their best behaviour in advance of a return to work the following morning, a change from the more raucous Friday and Saturday night album launches.
Texas Tea’ Kate Jacobson, playing in solo mode, opens the night and plays a couple of superb new songs which hopefully means that it won’t be too long until their next album. McKisko also supports and as before her best songs are those where she loops her voice and instruments.
From memory all of ‘For Bread & Circuses‘ gets played over the course of the evening, with Cori Scanlon’s enchanting ‘Forest‘ also played and the night ending with a new song ‘Deepest Dive’. If there is a weak point during the set, it is the cover of Bonnie Tyler’s ‘It’s A Heartache‘ that opens the encore, a song that was terrible the 1970s and is way past any sort of musical redemption, even with Kate Jacobson singing on it. But other than that one small point it’s another night of great Brisbane music at The Troubadour.
A few more photos from the night are on Flickr.
Kate Jacobson
McKisko
Timothy Carroll
I put in to cover this show more for another chance to see DZ play as opposed to getting to photograph the headline act. They had their strobe out in force again so took the opportunity to play around with long exposures again, as I had when I’d seen them before. I was less lazy than I normally am and moved around the stage more than last time. Ended up pretty happy with the photos that I got; I think they are a better set than last time.
I don’t know who does Philadelphia Grand Jury’s press but they definitely deserve some sort of award. They’ve been inescapable over the last few months, be it in the press, on TV, on the radio, all over the internet, just everywhere, culminating in a nomination for album of the year from Triple J and a Top 10 placing in Mess+Noise’s 2009 critic’s poll. And whilst they’re not a bad band, they’re not a great band and somewhat undeserving of all the attention that has been paid to them, although ‘The Good News’ is a great track.
Much is made of their live show and again it’s alright but nothing outstanding. Having said that I leave at the start of the encore (being a Thursday night and with the photos due in the morning) and miss bassist MC Bad Genius stripping down to his underwear, which all the following week’s street press publications make a note of focussing on. So maybe taking your trousers off is the key to success in the modern music industry…
More photos on Flickr.
I know I’ve blogged previously about photographing keyboard players; it’s the worst and along with saxophonists they’re probably the hardest musicians to get really good photos of. Not just ok photos, REALLY good photos. This is possibly because, with a very few exceptions, the keyboard is the most un-rock instrument ever. So Megan Washington is off to a bad start straight away and getting anything near resembling a really good photo of her is made even harder by her long hair falling all over her face and also by her wearing glasses. Photographing people with glasses can be a hard task anyway, what with the reflections, but it’s amazing how hard it can be photographing musicians with glasses and to not get the frames covering up the eyes. Being The Troubadour, everyone is sat down and so I end up just photographing from the same place but afterwards regret not moving over to the other side for a bit, as other photos I’ve seen of her since seem better from that side.
Apart from the pains of photographing, it was an enjoyable gig. It’s good to see sold out local gig (although I thinks she’s based in Melbourne now).  It’s amazing what a bit of regular play on Triple J can do for you; shame they don’t play Brisbane bands a bit more often…
Some more photos on flickr.
Washington
Last Dinosaurs
A friend asked me a few week ago who my favourite new Brisbane band was.  I replied that I didn’t really have one; most the Brisbane bands I like have been around for at least a couple of years and when you become more ’successful’ in photographing bands, getting the opportunity for higher profile gigs, you sadly lose touch with the grassroots music scene and what’s new and upcoming to some degree. But all that changes tonight with DZ firmly installed as my favourite new(ish) local band and their 1am Troubadour show being the best show I’ve seen in a long time (I had seen the band before at last year’s MereNoise Xmas Party, but with them being the first band I’d photographed with the new camera I’d bought a few days earlier, I wasn’t giving them my full attention).Â
It’s amazing stuff and despite my usual views on photographing in venues without photo pits, there’s still something really exhilarating about trying to photograph from within a really energetic crowd and being in the midst of it; you feel a true sense of documenting what is happening as opposed to the more sterile environment that exists when there is a barrier separating the audience from the stage, even if it makes it a whole lot easier and a much more pleasant experience for photographers.  Â
It definitely is a case of suffering for my art, with the hand operated strobe lighting being held right in front of my camera lens at one point, giving me an unhealthy flash of bright light from point blank range. Having not actually left the house on Sunday, it’s not until Monday that I really notice it , with my eyesight being really shimmery and finding it hard to keep my eyes fully open at work, as it just seems far too bright outside my office window, even though it’s overcast and rains on occasions during the day and feeling like I really need to be wearing sunglasses indoors. Looking at my eyes in the bathroom mirror is worrying as almost two days after the gig my pupils aren’t dilating, but by the Tuesday everything seems back to normal. Â
I don’t normally put videos on my blog; I’m never sure of the copyright implications and I’m also trying to keep it focussed on still photos but here’s some video footage from the night.
And this is DZ’s must-see video clip for ‘The Mess Up’. Stick with it to the end; you can probably guess how it’s going to end.
More photos on Flickr.
Even at the time, 1996 was one of the best years of my life: my PhD was beginning to take shape but was in a worry free stage, still years away from having to write up a thesis, living in an amazing share house with great friends, a beautiful hot summer, a feast of football on the TV every night, the amazing night of jumping up and down of the sofa watching this, the Saturday afternoon barbeque a few days later and the place erupting when this happened, followed by the mandatory trip to the park straight after for a jumpers-for-goalposts drunken kick-around, my weekly lustful date with Anna, the amazing Phoenix 1996 line-up, a line-up so good that if you put it on in 2009 it would still be better than most of this year’s festivals, and of course Reading 1996, when for the first 60 seconds of ‘I Wanna Be Adored‘ everything in the world was perfect.Â
Of course not everything was perfect; everything apart from those first 60 seconds of the Stone Rose’s Reading performance, for example, and there was of course the dastardly Britpop Pavlovian experiment, where in the combined efforts of the UK music and mainstream press, Chris Evans and Radio 1 were engaged in a war of attrition against the British public, convinced that if they wrote about and played enough Cast and Ocean Colour Scene they would be accepted amongst the upper pantheons of British musical culture. Sadly far too many were convinced of their and other Britpop also-rans’ greatness and many still are, even to this very day.Â
Obviously until a few years ago Screamfeeder meant nothing to me.  So tonight I find myself at The Troubadour for the launch of their re-mastered/deluxe edition of their apparent classic 1996 album ‘Kitten Licks‘, an album which of course means nothing to me and I’ve never even heard, and a ‘Don’t Look Back‘-style run-through of the whole album.Â
It’s a slightly strange feeling; feeding off other people’s version of 1996 nostalgia.   Strange and yet it seems so natural and is so easy when there’s such a noticeable and infectious mood of happy reminiscence to less complicated and happier days. You can’t help but be caught up in it. Even though ‘Kitten Licks’ is not the soundtrack to my 1996, it has such classic indie rock, hook-laden songs that it just sounds like it should have been or could have been; in a lot of ways it has an eerie sense of a long-forgotten but happy memory. And it would have made the perfect soundtrack to my Summer of ‘96, much preferable to being forced to endure the seemingly inescapable likes of Shed Seven and The Bluetones on TV and radio.
More photos on Flickr.
Screamfeeder
Midget
Butcher Birds
I think I’ve probably said enough about The Drones on my blog like here, here, here and here. And knowing that I’m down to cover them again in a couple weeks, when they play the launch night at the new Hi-Fi Bar in West End, I won’t say much about them now, even though a Gareth Liddiard solo show is a bit different, with the songs stripped down from their usual wall of sound to just vocals and acoustic guitar. The power and intensity of the songs remains the same and it does have the advantage of allowing more space to concentrate on his excellent lyrics. If there was one disappointment from the night, it’s that previously he has used solo shows to road test new material, where as tonight (and for the other dates of the tour) it’s just been songs from the band’s existing catalogue. Actually, thinking about it there was a second disappointment in the amount of chatter going on through his set at the back of the room, something that he picked up on and responded to with some fairly colourful language, not that the people at the back were listening anyway…
As well as having said more than enough about The Drones, I’ve also probably said more than enough about difficulties photographing in the dark at The Troubadour, including here, here, here  and here. Having a new-ish camera that does handle higher ISOs much better than my old camera, which was more or less unusable at anything over ISO 800, has made a difference, but although I can get reasonable colour photos I’m still preferring converting them to black & white or monochrome images. I’ve also probably blogged more than enough about my love of black & white photos and about the influence that the likes of Anton Corbijn, Herman Leonard and Steve Gullick have had on my photography. The trouble is that it’s becoming an increasing source of internal artistic conflict; I keep feeling to take my photography to the next level I need to start targeting larger gigs, more “mainstream” acts, less local acts playing tiny venues with no lighting, photographing at larger venues, with much better lighting and higher production values, so that it gives me the best opportunities for keeping images in colour. As much as I adore black & white, next to no black & white photos get published in music magazines these days. Usually the only time you see black and white music photos it’s in places like ‘Mojo‘ and the main reason it’s in black & white is that it was taken on black & white film. And yet half the reason I like reading magazines like ‘Mojo’ or ‘Word‘ is they have all these amazing black & white photos of “classic” 60s and 70s acts.
My music photography has been driven mainly by the music; it’s why The Zoo is my second home and why I photographed more at The Troubadour than at either the BEC or BCC last year. But maybe I need to focus on the photography side a bit more.
When you’ve got a new camera to test out for the first time, there has to be no better place to take it into battle than the original scene of the crime, every Brisbane photographer’s favourite venue, the black hole that sucks all the light out of the universe, The Troubadour, where MereNoise were holding their Xmas Party, featuring The Horrortones, The DZ annd Butcher Birds. There was also an advantage in that it wasn’t an assigned shoot and knowing most of the bands and having photographed them plenty of times previously, there was no pressure whatsoever, allowing me to play around with settings and try to get used to using my new toy.Â
Having bought the camera, the first thing I did as soon as the battery was charged was download and install the v4 firmware which was released by Sony on September 2008. Amongst other things, this is supposed to have improved the high ISO quality and also allows the in-camera noise redcution to be turned off (as opposed to the ‘low’ setting that was the minimum in the previous versions of the camera’s software) meaning that the much criticised ‘watercolour’ effects at higher ISOs can be avoided.Â
In addition to getting used to physically using a new camera and its settings, I found that the learning curve has also extended to post-production. The Sony a700 has a different noise structure and saturation compared to my old Minolta 5D, so most of the playing around in post was trying different ways of processing the photos to try to optimise a modified workflow to get the best out of the camera. I was also keen to try and maintain shots in colour, as previously I would have just coverted everything taken at The Troubadour to mototone. As I worked through the photos I think the quality of the final images improved, so by the end I was tempted to go back and re-do most of the photos.
Overall I was pretty happy with the first run-out, especially as the gig followed my work Xmas lunch and an afternoon spent in the pub… I started at my usual ISO800 setting, but was soon playing around with taking photos at 1600, 3200 and 6400. Image quality at 1600 is very good, 3200 is more than usable, and although 6400 isn’t great, it’s more than comparable to ISO1600 on the old Minolta. Still some work to be done I think, as JPEG quality is probably even smoother than the processed RAW files but hopefully we’ll get there soon. Looking forward to testing it out at a venue that isn’t The Troubadour, and has a bit more light, to see how it handles at my typical ISO800 setting.
Some more photos on flickr.
Butcher Birds at ISO6400 on the Sony a700Â
For comparison – Jeremy Jay at ISO1600 on the Minolta 5D
ISO 3200
The DZ (all DZ photos at ISO 1600)
The Horrortones (at ISO 1600)
Waking up in the morning and logging-on to find a email from a reputable publication asking if you want to photograph doesn’t happen every day but when it does it’s somewhat exciting. Daunting, but really exciting and pretty thrilling.
So, when I got an email from Plan B on Wednesday morning asking if I was interested in photographing Jeremy Jay at The Troubadour that night, the day has instantly got off to a pretty good start. As well as photographing for the magazine it had the added bonus (hopefully…) of a byline something along the lines of ’Words by Everett True, Photos by Justin Edwards’, something that I never would have imagined when I started reading Melody Maker back in my teens. And of course ET set up ‘Careless Talk Costs Lives‘ with one of my favourite photographers, Steve Gullick, so it’s an awesome feeling to be asked to be involved with CTCL’s successor and take some photos.
As any Brisbane photographer will tell you, whilst news like this is all very exciting, just about the last place you’d want to photograph for a magazine for the first time would be The Troubadour. On a good day you can get something usable, sometimes something quite good, but it’s still nowhere near being a photographer-friendly venue.  At it’s worst it’s a place that makes you want to set your camera on fire and throw it at a wall.
And of course despite the support acts (The Bell Divers and Guy Blackman) having good Troubadour lighting, Wednesday night became another ‘ISO1600, f.17 50mm lens, 1/25 second’-type of nights. At least it would have had I brought my f1.7 50mm lens. So instead most of the photos I took were in the region of ISO1600, f2.8, 1/13. The main reason for the change in lighting between the supports and the headline act was that the two small spotlights were turned upwards, so instead of pointing at the stage they pointed at the black ceiling a couple of inches above their position. This meant that most of the light was coming from the single red light above the drummer and the two table lamps at the back of the stage. It was pretty heartbreaking really.
Last time Tim Finn played in Brisbane it was with the reformed Split Enz at the 13,500-capcaity Entertainment Centre, so it was a real thrill to get the opportunity to see him play at 200-capcaity The Troubadour this week. His 75 minute set included songs from his new album, ‘The Conversation‘, plus crowd-pleasing Split Enz favourites (‘I See Red‘, ‘Shark Attack‘, ‘My Mistake‘) and Crowded House Woodface-era classics (‘Chocolate Cake‘, ‘It’s Only Natural‘, ‘Weather With You‘). If there was one disappointment it was that he didn’t play anything from either of the Finn Brothers’ albums (the first one, ‘Finn‘, is patchy but the second one, ‘Everyone Is Here‘ is fantastic).
It amused me that when SBS started doing their Classic Australian Albums series, they included ‘Woodface‘. Looking at the bands that they covered in the first season of the program it seemed that they had chosen the records based on a New South Wales/Victoria/Queensland/Western Australia split. So while Queensland and Western Australia were represented by The Saints‘ ‘(I’m) Stranded‘ and The Triffids‘ ‘Born Sand Devotional‘ respectively, the program makers couldn’t find a classic Sydney album and had to go to Newcastle to get the very dubious classic album choice of Silverchair’s ‘Diorama‘ and they had get a New Zealand band to get classic Victorian album.
 As we all know, Australians are a bit on the precious side when it comes to its bands and music, so when it comes to justifying Crowded House as an Australian band the argument seems to go that they formed in Australia, had some Australian members and recorded albums in Australia. Which is all well and good but becomes amusing when you point out that using similar logic makes Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds a British band! And don’t get me started on AC/DC. No one thinks of Fleetwood Mac as an English band, so the campaign to stop having AC/DC called an Australian band starts here…
