As The Tivoli's doors open, bodies are filing in and before we know it's a packed Brisbane venue in no time. Bar's ticking over, punters staking out spots and a low hum of "yeah alright, a night of Helmet's brewing".
A surprise to me and many others, finding there's a third act included on the line-up (18 April). SUPERNEW open the night. It's the early slot where half the room's still ordering drinks or buying merch, but SUPERNEW are not letting that happen.
They're straight into it, no awkward easing in, just sound hitting the room while people are still finding their footing. There's a familiarity to two of the band members, but my memory fails me right now. Another band? Same band different name?
It's loose but confident. The guitars washing out then snapping back, drums pushing harder than the three quarters-full room expects.
Early crowd is nodding along, some having a crack at a mosh. A few edge closer to the stage instead of hanging back at the bar. It's a quiet win pulling people in without demanding it.
SUPERNEW - image © Clea-marie Thorne
They wrap without dragging it out: quick, efficient, leaving just enough of a mark that people are paying attention instead of just waiting. Quick hit, done and walking off with more people watching them than when they started.
My hunch is correct as during the break I get the lowdown that SUPERNEW are in fact a Meanjin supergroup and noncommittally told two members are from Sweater Curse (who were active up till 2022).
Chimers from the 'Gong step in and immediately the duo lift the room another notch, 'Generator' cutting through clean, rolling straight into 'Glossary' without giving anyone a second to drift off.
Two people onstage, but it's hitting way bigger than that. No space to hide and they're not trying to. Drums are coming in hard and physical, Binx going from full-cavewoman pounding into precise, locked-in rhythm without dropping anything.
Together, Padraic and Binx are tightly on task, keeping us moving while crashing and drilling 'Beasts' and 'Youthy' into our ears. So adept at sustaining the momentum, they have the crowd in full locked-in mode. Heads are going, shoulders brushing, people pushing a bit closer almost involuntarily.
They continue playing, tightening the grip, a bit more punch landing and you feel a shift. It stops feeling like a support slot and starts feeling like their room for a minute.
They wrap their set with a song I don't know but there are more than a few voices coming back at them from the pit. I love their performance approach. No fluff, no overstaying. Just doing the job right whether supporting the likes of Helmet (or Mudhoney – I was there!) and getting off.
Chimers - image © Clea-marie Thorne
By the end of it, the room's locked in yet it feels like they've cut the set short even if they haven't. You're not done with them, but they're done with you vibes all round – and that's exactly how it should feel.
Yeah, this place is primed as Helmet walk out; kinda like it's just another shift.
The US alternative metal legends open the night with 'Role Model' as punters lose their minds instantly. With no reprieve (and who would want it?) they're straight into 'So Long' and that's how you start a set. No easing in, just straight for the throat.
'Renovation' hits us like it's the very first time we heard it. Yes, it's still blowing our minds as dooes 'Exactly What You Wanted' – yes it is!
Page Hamilton barely moves from the mic and his pedal board, just standing there driving it, letting those jagged chords and off-kilter timing do the damage.
Helmet - image © Clea-marie Thorne
One of my favourites gets a look in. 'Wilma's Rainbow' and it already sounds like concrete being poured and set, in real time. Riffs coming in thick and dry, that signature Helmet groove sitting low and heavy. Low and heavy.
We are devouring that stop-start, lockstep rhythm and devastating heavy crushing sound they've been known for since the 'Meantime' era. All tension and release, nothing wasted, nothing superfluous. The tone is clean but filthy at the same time, every note cutting like it's been filed down to a point.
Page pauses; one of those rare moments. He throws out a quick “. . . yeah Brissie! It's great to be back!" Then gets stuck straight back into it like he regrets even stopping the tunes for us.
Helmet - image © Clea-marie Thorne
'Holiday' and 'You Borrowed' keep the pressure on our chests and ears, bass sitting right underneath like a blunt force hit to the ribs.
Dave Case is not flashy, just locking into that groove, doubling those lines for us, making it feel heavier than it should be. It's a post-hardcore, almost industrial pulse that has the boys and girls of all ages fan-girling from the balcony and middle and sides of the pit.
'Gun Fluf' fires off and has the older crew ecstatic and the younger fans held in a moshing rapture as they're swallowed by the pit. Another set list gift! 'Like I Care' may be a deviation from 'Speechless' on the printed set list, but most people wouldn't even know that and if they did, there's no complaining as we bath under the waves of noise crashing over us.
Helmet - image © Clea-marie Thorne
Then 'Birth Defect' lands sharp and twitchy, that riff snapping in and out, followed by 'Unsung' as the room lifts higher. That opening line hits and everyone's in it. No hesitation. Pogoing is the mosh-move right now. Voices going hard all over the venue, slightly cooked already, but no one's holding back.
Page takes another moment to throw out a quick "thank you to Supernew who played earlier," but is hijacked immediately by one audibly gifted bloke near the front yelling: "F'ken sick mate! You're all f'ken sick, bro!"
Page also thanks Chimers it barely landing before the same unit is doubling down with "I like your old stuff, better than your new stuff," absolutely chuffed with himself.
Helmet - image © Clea-marie Thorne
Hamilton is not biting. Not even a flicker. Just pushing on, introducing the band like it's business. Dave Case, Dan Beeman on rhythm and Kyle Stevenson on drums, 20 years deep and still hitting like he has a life-long grudge against drum skins.
They rip straight back in with 'Dislocated', 'Bad Mood' and 'Ironhead' – Stevenson driving it hard without overplaying, tight snare, dry hits, everything sitting right in that pocket.
Beeman is gluing it together, thick rhythm tone, no gaps. 'Ironhead' is especially filthy, that riff stomping in that uneven groove, the kind of sound that makes your head move whether you want it to or not.
Helmet - image © Clea-marie Thorne
Another fan favourite (aren't they all?) arrives, 'Milquetoast' – the ear-bashing and full-body vibrations are just relentless. This one is drags that groove out longer, in a hypnotic, almost suffocating way. Fans lap this up like it's the only drop of water left in their drink bottle on a 20-kilometre hike.
"Thank you!" Quick. Done. They step off and the crowd's calling bullsh.t on that ending. Cheers, whistles, clapping, one bloke carrying on that Helmet owe him ten more songs. No context, just conviction. Chants kick off. "One more song," over and over, getting louder, messier.
They return as the encore hits and it's loose now. 'Give It' kicks in and it's an immediate impact. A thick and rolling bassline, drums punching through, guitars chopping over the top. Heads are going, hips are swinging, people still yelling along even though their voices are now wrecked. The committed crowd surfers getting their last waves in.
Helmet - image © Clea-marie Thorne
Then 'Just Another Victim' drops in and it's heavier than expected; another typed set list deviation. Punters pulled by that groove sitting somewhere between metal and hardcore, crowd surfers still coming over, pit lifting, bodies knocking into each other with zero apologies.
It's chaos but it's holding together; and then it locks in. Everyone joining in, loud and rough, "Earth tone suits you, so give it a smile". The riff known immediately by fans, and hearing it is giving them a dopamine and serotonin hit like no other.
'In The Meantime' hits exactly how it should. Who doesn't love that dropped, grinding groove that makes and made Helmet, well, Helmet! It's not fast, it's not flashy, it simply hits hard and stays there, drilling into you.
Helmet - image © Clea-marie Thorne
They finish it there. I guess they had to. Page smiles and flicks some picks to the fans. Case hands out a set list to a diehard fan on the barrier and gives a fist pump to another. With a nod and wave, they retreat to the green room and out of our sight.
In the meantime? Punters drag themselves out, still half in it, brains rattling and hearts retuned by the absolute sonic flogging we gladly copped. Arriving home, my gig legs (the concert version of sea legs) are still vibrating with reverb for hours.
Yes, shows must end, but may that Helmet pulse never stop hammering our ears. I love the old stuff and the newer stuff. Let it be known to that unit in the crowd. I like ya old stuff and ya newer stuff!
