Two speaker stacks towered over the crowd at Brisbane’s The Foundry (25 January).
Emitting from one of these obelisks was My Disco member Liam Andrews’ aluminium bass, each pluck akin to a hammer bashing steel into shape. An aluminium guitar hung from his brother Ben, deafening with shrill attacks.As the brothers forged their noise, Rohan Rebeiro sat at his drum kit staring at the sticks crossed on his lap and unbothered by the clamour building around him.
Since their 2006 debut album, the Melbourne post-punks have sliced chunks off their sounds using the least elements to build tension.
On their fifth album ‘Environment’, the trio continue down this path, switching between discordant noise and deafening silence, pushing each to their extremes throughout their Brisbane return
A stuttered hiss of feedback came from the speakers as local, black-metal band Hope Drone set-up. The piercing whine growing from the speaker was soon drowned beneath a flurry of furious guitars, blast beats, and Chris Rowden’s full-throated roar.
Drummer Francis Keil tore through his kit, keeping up at a barrelling speed even when a drumstick slipped from his grip – his remaining hand blurred as it did the work of two.
Overwhelming the venue with their dissonant storm, the group halted. The storm continued to rumble, echoing against the walls and revealing the ambient beauty beneath their rampage.
The soft tick of Rohan’s drumstick against his snare’s rim wasn’t immediately noticed beneath My Disco’s industrial noise.
The crowd’s attention was upon Ben's erratic movements, picking at his guitar strings like they were scabs before raising it up to his mouth and biting it. Swinging his guitar behind his back, Ben threw his body at a stand in the middle of the stage twisting the knobs of a metal box sat upon it.
Somewhere within the shrieks and grinds a rhythm emerged, and fans began to shake their hips to the motorised pluck of Liam’s bass. My Disco’s noise reached extremes, but so did their quiet moments.
As the buzz of guitar and bass evaporated, Rohan placed chains and other metal objects across his kit. He held a string with a pan hanging from it, letting it swing and hit whatever was in its path to create a rhythm from randomness.
The muffled sound of Linkin Park karaoke bled through the floorboards, so fans moved closer to the speakers to better hear each of Rohan’s soft clangs. The solo percussive performance went on for some time, testing the patience of a few but also the curiosity of everyone else.
The silence broke when Ben struck his guitar, filling the room with a monstrous roar. Having spent the night lightly tapping his kit, Rohan changed pace and attacked, unleashing a tribal rhythm.
As the rhythm raced, Ben removed his guitar and knocked its headstock against the ventilation vents above the stage, each blow rumbling through the venue. As the noise grew, adrenalin-fuelled fans flailed across the room, mesmerised once again by My Disco’s primal and unpredictable chaos.
