School Of Seven Bells @ The Hi-Fi Bar, Melbourne (21/06/2012)
For a lot of bands, losing a member can spell disaster. Thankfully for New York indie rockers School Of Seven Bells, this is not the case. Despite the departure of co-vocalist and keyboard player Claudia Deheza, the now duo are far from being at loss. Their Melbourne show at the Hi-Fi Bar proving that sometimes a setback can be a blessing in disguise.
Early birds were rewarded for their punctual efforts by the ambient sounds of The Townhouses. The brainchild of Melbourne artist Leigh Hannah who is joined by Hamish Brooke for live shows, The Townhouses play unashamedly pretty music. Small clutches of punters sit quietly and absorb the lush loops and dreamy vocals as The Townhouses gently warm up the room. Despite their lo-fi sound, neither Hannah nor Brooke slows down for second. Using any means necessary, even a trumpet appears out of nowhere at one point, they build delicate textures that consume and almost hypnotise the room. The Townhouses make a serious impression and are well worth braving the cold Melbourne winter to go out and see.
Sadly, the same cannot be said for Brisbane’s Little Scout. Whether it was a mixing problem or just a bad gig, their sweet sounding dream pop music comes across as thin and one dimensional. Vocalist Melissa Tickle’s voice lacks any real power tonight and seems to be crying out for more support. Having listened to them recorded, and they are a great band, it can only be concluded that this was just one of those gigs. Tonight’s gig however should be filed under “inoffensive but underwhelming”. They were there, they floundered for a while and then they were gone.
With a brief wave, School of Seven Bells guitarist Benjamin Curtis takes the stage. Vocalist Alejandra Deheza flashes a megawatt smile before closing her eyes and swaying as their music fills the crowded room. The Curtis/Deheza pairing is certainly an intimidating one; they are impossibly thin, cool and clad head to toe in black.
Deheza’s voice manages to be both ghostly yet soulful as she sings “I am neither sister brother son nor daughter” with a proud conviction in “iamundernodisguise”. The band plays with an intensity that makes the floor shake from start to finish, this intensity is reflected right back at them by a totally transfixed crowd. It is a stand and nod show rather than a frenzied dance fest but their show and stage presence is alluring bordering on hypnotic. The honesty of songs like “Bye Bye Bye” is cutting, and the rawness of the lyrics is etched across Deheza’s face, as if she is reliving the emotions she felt when she penned the song.
“The Night”, opening track from Ghostory is met with a rousing welcome from the audience. Curtis weaves guitar riffs into synth heavy loops as Deheza floats across the stage, her tiny size belying a voice much greater than her stature as her fingers dance across her chest and along the mic stand. They dip liberally into their back catalogue but for the most part this story is about Ghostory
Despite being fairly low on crowd interaction, School Of Seven Bells connects on a much deeper level. During a break Curtis finally speaks to the crowd, shortly and sweetly he smiles “It's so good to be here Melbourne” before quickly turning his attention back to the task at hand. Despite the hipster tag that surrounds them; their absorption in their show is more about concentration than a conscious aloofness
The beauty of watching School Of Seven Bells play live is seeing firsthand the musical connection between Curtis and Deheza and the way they wordlessly interact with each other. They craft epically huge dream pop songs that feel both lighter than air and bone snappingly heavy, darting effortless between both. As the houselights come up, there are more than a few jaws being scrapped off the floor. School Of Seven Bells put a show that smashed through all of the hype and delivered on every level with true talent and tangible emotion.
Maddy Thomas
Early birds were rewarded for their punctual efforts by the ambient sounds of The Townhouses. The brainchild of Melbourne artist Leigh Hannah who is joined by Hamish Brooke for live shows, The Townhouses play unashamedly pretty music. Small clutches of punters sit quietly and absorb the lush loops and dreamy vocals as The Townhouses gently warm up the room. Despite their lo-fi sound, neither Hannah nor Brooke slows down for second. Using any means necessary, even a trumpet appears out of nowhere at one point, they build delicate textures that consume and almost hypnotise the room. The Townhouses make a serious impression and are well worth braving the cold Melbourne winter to go out and see.
Sadly, the same cannot be said for Brisbane’s Little Scout. Whether it was a mixing problem or just a bad gig, their sweet sounding dream pop music comes across as thin and one dimensional. Vocalist Melissa Tickle’s voice lacks any real power tonight and seems to be crying out for more support. Having listened to them recorded, and they are a great band, it can only be concluded that this was just one of those gigs. Tonight’s gig however should be filed under “inoffensive but underwhelming”. They were there, they floundered for a while and then they were gone.
With a brief wave, School of Seven Bells guitarist Benjamin Curtis takes the stage. Vocalist Alejandra Deheza flashes a megawatt smile before closing her eyes and swaying as their music fills the crowded room. The Curtis/Deheza pairing is certainly an intimidating one; they are impossibly thin, cool and clad head to toe in black.
Deheza’s voice manages to be both ghostly yet soulful as she sings “I am neither sister brother son nor daughter” with a proud conviction in “iamundernodisguise”. The band plays with an intensity that makes the floor shake from start to finish, this intensity is reflected right back at them by a totally transfixed crowd. It is a stand and nod show rather than a frenzied dance fest but their show and stage presence is alluring bordering on hypnotic. The honesty of songs like “Bye Bye Bye” is cutting, and the rawness of the lyrics is etched across Deheza’s face, as if she is reliving the emotions she felt when she penned the song.
“The Night”, opening track from Ghostory is met with a rousing welcome from the audience. Curtis weaves guitar riffs into synth heavy loops as Deheza floats across the stage, her tiny size belying a voice much greater than her stature as her fingers dance across her chest and along the mic stand. They dip liberally into their back catalogue but for the most part this story is about Ghostory
Despite being fairly low on crowd interaction, School Of Seven Bells connects on a much deeper level. During a break Curtis finally speaks to the crowd, shortly and sweetly he smiles “It's so good to be here Melbourne” before quickly turning his attention back to the task at hand. Despite the hipster tag that surrounds them; their absorption in their show is more about concentration than a conscious aloofness
The beauty of watching School Of Seven Bells play live is seeing firsthand the musical connection between Curtis and Deheza and the way they wordlessly interact with each other. They craft epically huge dream pop songs that feel both lighter than air and bone snappingly heavy, darting effortless between both. As the houselights come up, there are more than a few jaws being scrapped off the floor. School Of Seven Bells put a show that smashed through all of the hype and delivered on every level with true talent and tangible emotion.
Maddy Thomas