VOYAGER
“V” album launch
w/
CALIGULA’S HORSE • TROLDHAUGEN • WITHOUT PARACHUTES
THE
FACTORY FLOOR – 05/07/14
The Hogwarts Express departed platform nine and three quarters right on
time. The locomotive was abuzz with excited children eager to attend their
first year at the prestigious school of metal excellence. To the rear of the
train sit our trio of heroes; Smella Longbottom, with the power to substitute
the jalapenos on a breakfast burrito for bacon; Flaito Malfoy, with the powers
of intense bear-like hibernation and; Narrator, with the power of extreme
handsomeness and wordsmithery. Malfoy and Narrator were entering their senior
year at Hogwarts and had promised their parents to look after Longbottom who
was making her debut appearance. While Flaito slumbered, Smella looked around
the steam engine, wide eyed and full of fascination and Narrator perused the Daily
Prophet. The front page reported that a tie-wielding Gorilla and his cap
wearing simian sidekick had gone and gotten all their bananas stolen by the
incredibly lame, instrument inspired Tiki Tak tribe (Kremlings or die). The sun
disappeared behind the city line as The Hogwarts Express arrived at The Factory
Floor station. Hagrid stamped our hallpasses onto our wrists and shooed us into
the Great Hall for orientation.
Marrickville was colder than the surface of Hoth and the punters had
arrived early to catch Wollongong (I’m sorry) indy/rock outfit WITHOUT PARACHUTES. Some
technical issues with the samples at the beginning of the set hindered the
initial impact of the fringe wielding trio, but it was quickly forgotten as
soon as the lads started playing. Like a malnourished fish I was instantly
hooked. I am a sucker(fish) for a three-piece band that can deliver a huge
stadium-quality experience. The colossal sound bombarding my senses was one of
kids who have grown up on a musical diet of Muse, Coldplay and The Killers.
Both the group’s instrumentation and the vocals of guitarist William Cruger,
emulate these three complimentary bands. His lower tones reminiscent of the
coolness of Brandon Flowers, his higher notes capturing the warmth of Chris
Martin, and his falsetto effortlessly paying homage to musical prodigy, Matt
Bellamy. Bassist Michael Cooper delivered a monumental sonic barrage all on his
own with a heavy use of low-end distortion and octave effects. He danced across
the stage like a knock-kneed nutcracker and was seemingly spent after the
opening track of the night. Up the back of the dais, polo shirt enthusiast Bob
Stewart hammered away at his kit like a blacksmith forging a broadsword,
showing considerable favour to the floor toms that encompassed him. Cruger’s
mastery of guitar sounds lathered the music with a hollandaise of Dead Letter
Circus delays and a salsa verde of grungy distortions. The effects heavy
threesome had heads in the audience bobbing like a parliament of owls, possibly
due to the sonic boom of Stewarts kick drum being harpooned into their
sternums. By the end of the set, Cooper was sweatier than Ethan Hunt dangling
over the sensitively alarmed floor of the CIA headquarters, and the crowd were
spooging with appreciation of the perfectly selected opening act.
Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You”, Marlon Brando’s
“Stellaaaaaaaaaaa!” and a simple growl of “Cookies” suggested that even during
the sound check of Wollongong’s (I’m so, so sorry) TROLDHAUGEN, it was evident that we were in for an
entertaining set. The folk/metal foursome enter the colosseum to a mash up of
The Simpsons Theme and Aerosmith’s “Walk This Way” dressed in matching retro
80’s sunglasses except for the frontman, who sported a rubber deer head.
Without warning the mask was torn off and the frenzied set began with a flurry
of eye-opening absurdity. Vocalist Reventüsk immediately commands the attention
of the entire room with his larger-than-life persona and exaggerated theatrics.
The man was dressed like a used car salesman and had eyes crazier than
Cristopher Lloyd’s incarnation of Uncle Fester. The way he performs on stage is
like nothing I have ever seen before. Think Heath Ledger’s Joker crossed with
Jack Nicholson’s Joker, combined with Mark Hamill’s Joker, merged with Raul
Julia’s representation of Gomez Adamms, blended with the enthusiasm of workout
mogul Richard Simmons and the downright lunacy of System Of A Down’s Serj
Tankian, and you’re not even close to how insanely enthralling the Ron Jeremy
doppelganger is. The vocals were a mixture of the aforementioned Mr Tankian and
the beloved diabetes endorsement that is the Cookie Monster. The man used more
hand gestures than a deaf translator and even conducted the band sporadically
throughout the set. I somehow managed to avert my gaze from the Xena calling
comedian who was constantly using his jacket as a cape, only to hilariously
catch drummer Grädenøk shimmying behind his kit as he played. He wore a
matching valet outfit with bassist Svarog who provided the subtler comedy of
the group, and by subtle I mean if anyone else had been fronting the
circus/pirate/polka/folk/jazz/metal group, then his comedy would have been
louder than Gilbert Gottfried mid orgasm. The low-ender pirouetted across the
floor like a figurine in a jewellery box as his pupils shot back and forth to
the corners of his eyes in time to the music. Guitarist Meldengar was the
serious one of the group but still fit the mould snugger than a foot long pork
sword in a virgin prison purse. He sported a wife beater and sung along to
himself the majority of the set whilst stomping around the stage with the
lovable ferocity of Reptar. Meldengar and Svarog worked both sides of the stage
like seasoned professionals and transitioned fluently between the two.
Reventüsk joined them towards the end of the set as they marched around the
stage in single file like ducklings following their mother across a busy
highway. Without the crazy stage antics, Troldhaugen would have killed it. As
it stood, they ritually slaughtered it, brought it back from the dead, and
killed it again. They incorporated copious amounts of abrupt syncopation and
utilised their circus and piani (not a typo) samples to perfection…… it was
super effective. With a set loaded with masterpieces like “Slaughterhouse
Swing” and “Beast Wagon” it is little wonder these Wollongong (Oh lordy, I’m
sorry you had to go through that) madmen have been turning heads across the
country. Brilliant.
Brisbane’s CALIGULA’S HORSE
were the band I had braved the weather to see tonight and the only group of the
four that I had heard of. I haven’t stopped dreaming about the prog/rock/metal
five-piece since I reviewed them at The Locies last year, as the easy listening
grooves of the “Sea Horse” were downright crafted for love makin’. Straight off
the bat the sound was sharper than Snape’s acid tongue, and every bad decision
I had ever made in my life, melted away for forty or so sexually stimulating
minutes. After talking with the lads last time they were down, they stressed
their concern over just how hard a city Sydney Town was to crack. As far as I
am aware, this was their biggest Sydney audience to date and it really showed
in their performance. The band as a whole had a stage presence more vibrant
than the Broadway production of The Lion King as every member sung along to the
tunes regardless of whether they had microphones or not. Vocalist Jim Grey’s
comedic timing was as snappy as ever. He deflected the playful heckles from the
crowd with reactions quicker than Indie’s bullwhip, until one saucy reviewer
floored him with a verbal rally instigated by a cheeky “Show us your dick”. Jim
utilises the stage mannerisms of a 90’s pop diva and for whatever reason, it
just works. Mr Grey was sporting a hirsute Christian Bale look this time around
but all I saw was Malibu Ken doll now with a new beard accessory. I wasn’t even
mad at my two lady tag-alongs for drooling over the bronzed Adonis as I found
myself questioning my “P” or “V” orientation. Seriously though, the guy packs a
calm yet punchy vocal tone which switches effortlessly between pitch-perfect,
ethereal falsetto and Pavarotti rivalling robustness. Dream Theater could be
heard encasing nuggets of djenty goodness as bassist Dave “Little John”
Couper’s sultry eyes targeted random individuals in the audience. One of my
favourite moments of the set was during “The City Has No Empathy” when Couper
unleashed his inner prima donna during the “Fuck this city” part of the track
and made the entirety of their fanbase all hot and bothered. His fingers danced
across the fortified cables of his instrument with more grace than a
pre-Mountain Red Viper of Dorne. At the conclusion of one of the songs mid-set,
the quintet were being verbally assaulted with deafening cheers which instantly
cut to the sound of a record stopping, followed by crickets. It was one of the
funniest moments of the night and Grey played it up like a boss. Guitarist Zac Greensill was also sporting a new beard which made him look like a young version
of Popeye’s nemesis, Bluto. Shadows of Periphery and The Butterfly Effect were
composed on his six-string as he proudly showed off his bushranger jaw
shrubbery. Speaking of Periphery, second guitarist Sam Vallen adopted a
Misha Mansoor power stance whenever he bewildered us with his note stampeding
solos. Vallen brings an avalanche of awe-inspiring licks and harmonics into
the fold that are inspired by goliaths such as Steve Vai and Opeth. He arches a
shoulder and screws up his face whenever he bends a note, causing him to look
like a scrawnier version of Peter Dinklage. Vallen and Greensill floored me at
the conclusion of “All Is Quiet By The Wall” with my favourite riff of the
night. It caused me to create a twitter account there and then just to tell the
world just how good it was. On the bongos to the rear of the stage sits the
ginger pirate Geoff Irish with his flame-kissed hair. He once again showed off
to the crowd by twirling the drumsticks between his hands and acknowledging
every single person in the audience who was vying for his attention with an
“Ayeeeeeeeeeeeee” reminiscent of the Fonz. In a moment of unplanned, subtle
comedic timing, Irish unleashed his blood red mane from its shackles when Grey
announced the final track “Dark Hair Down”. I was so god damn impressed by
these guys that I hired a group of accountants to do the maths for me, and I
can confidently say that I am exactly fifteen times more impressed than I was
before. One of Australia’s, nay, the world’s best bands roaming the earth
today.
As mentioned earlier, I had never heard of Perth prog/metal royalty VOYAGER before I bought tickets
to tonight’s event and I didn’t really know what to expect. The set opened with
drums mimicking the theme from The Terminator and my two companions and I had a
sick feeling in our stomachs that the headliner would be disappointing compared
to what we had just witnessed. I was unsure how I felt about the group until
the third track of the night, when the sold out venue was bellowing the chorus
of the song with a bloodlust fervour. I was swept up in what a salesman would
call “The Jones Theory” and immediately wanted to be all up in Voyager’s
business. The brood of savage punters were like a pack of velociraptors being
served a cow at feeding time. Fist pumps filled the air as power metal
influences such as Dragonforce and Manowar wallop me with an aural bitch slap
to the face. Throughout the set, bricks of Soilwork, Killswitch Engage and
Karnivool’s “Persona” EP filled the musical wall being constructed in my earholes
as well as more obscure influences such as David Bowie and early Bon Jovi.
Frontman/Keytarist and Skrillex impersonator Danny Estrin is the epitome of
charisma. The carefully crafted vocal hooks of his ridiculously sing-along
anthems fuel the mayhem of the horde to higher levels with each passing song.
Percussionist Ashley Doodkorte was sporting a glorious chopper that Merv Hughes
would be envious of. He pulverised the skins of his kit much like Animal of The
Muppets and his brutal double kick booted the intense moments of the music
straight up its proverbial date. The 80’s synth samples littered throughout the
set worked a charm in enhancing the flavour of the already obtuse musical opus
in which a saxophone wouldn’t have been out of place. By the forth song of the
set, a single crowd surfer laid waste to the rabid fans much like a boulder
launched from a catapult. It was nice to see a femme guitarist in the form of
Simone Dow, shredding her axe like a Ninja Turtles villain. She looked right at
home amongst the boys, ensuring to show more tongue throughout the performance
than Gene Simmons of KISS. Her counterpart Scott Kay was geeing up the crowd
much like Metallica’s Jason Newstead and was just as skilled on the electric
future-lute as Dow. The two of them spoiled us with copious amounts of duelling
guitar work which ruined more than one set of pants in the room. Voyager were
beyond stoked with the capacity turnout and the raw passion of the zombie
horde. The love that Voyager has of performing was showcased through the
expressions of every member of the band. Some random groupies’ shoe managed to
make it up onstage which was held up in the air triumphantly by Estrin, and the
crowd reacted much like the aliens at Pizza Planet upon witnessing “The Claw”.
Bassist/backing vocalist Alex Canion had the excitement levels of a toddler who
had just tasted sugar for the first time and his onstage bromance with Estrin
was nothing short of adorable. He hilariously got sucker punched in the gob
during one of his choral moments when an overexcited devotee hit the base of
the microphone. Troldhaugen vocalist Reventüsk made a guest appearance in an
entertaining melody consisting of Starship’s “We Built This City”, Backstreet
Boys “Backstreet’s Back”, Meatloaf’s “I Would Do Anything For Love”, ACDC’s
“Highway To Hell, John Farnham’s “You’re The Voice” and some other song I
couldn’t work out. It was all luminously interlocked by an increasingly
humorous, chuggy riff, reminiscent of Timmy And The Lords Of The Underworld. The
bone-shattering syncopation between the kick and bass whipped the mob into a
frenzy that looked as if the Hulk had been unleashed onto a room full of Loki
clones. The fan interaction was as intimate as teenagers up the back of a
theatre; handshakes were thrown around like mid-sprint man boobs and all the
guitars were held out over the crowd during the finale for the fans to play
along with the band. The inevitable encore satiated the appetites of the
infected throng of devotees and sent the Western Australian’s off with more
vocal showing of support than Helen Of Troy the first time she got her norks
out for all of Greece to see in Girls Gone Wild BC. Voyager, I am forever at
your service.
On a side note, whoever did the sound tonight really hit it out of the
park. Whoever you are, (whispered) I love you.
This was one of the strongest sets I have ever had the pleasure of
witnessing in my entire gigging career and it would easily slip into my top
five list of all time. Not one of these bands came from Sydney and yet managed
to inject a much needed adrenaline surge into our cities stagnant music scene.
For anyone who didn’t attend, you really missed out (Craig, I’m looking at
you).
Don’t be a dick, Sydney! Support the live music scene.
Joshua Towney
Couldn't agree more. It was simply epic! Hadnt heard of Voyager 3 weeks ago and followed a link on Facebook. Checked out the music on Youtube and am now hooked. The new album "V" is a masterpiece. As a musician for 30yrs I dont say that lightly. They played impeccably and with a fun attitude that the Australian music scene is seriously lacking. Great to see a band that actually looks like they enjoy what they do also. One of my all time favorite gigs alongside Metallica snakepit in '92 and Strapping young Lad at the metro Newtown.
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