My co-worker recently walked into the office and announced: “ABC Radio’s feature album is unreal this week.”
He spent awhile describing. We spent awhile deliberating. We ultimately searched online and the result was not surprising.
I was thrilled by Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever’s addition to the brimming Brisbane Festival line-up; a sold-out crowd shifted eagerly beneath The Courier-Mail Spiegeltent (27 September) until finally, the five-piece entered.
The closing song of their debut record alternatively acted as an opening track, ‘Hammer Down’ beginning with their iconic, twinkling guitar, vocalists switching between verses, soberly speaking the bridge, instead of singing. It transitioned neatly into second single, ‘Clean Slate’; dating back three years but very comparable to recent releases.
“Nice tent ya got here,” they laughed, introducing themselves; welcome's and thank you's were voiced before they launched into ‘Talking Straight’.
Click here to read our recent interview with Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever.
The walking bass shone in 2015’s ‘Wither With You’, lyrics “Sh.t sh.t sh.t sh.t” contrasted cleverly with a merry jingle. ‘Sister’s Jeans’ followed, melancholy words dressed with pretty guitar licks: “You hardly look sharp, your guts are in a knot, and all your new friends are frayed at the ends.”
Rolling Blackouts C.F.’s second EP debuted with ‘Julie’s Place’; during ‘Sick Bug’ (another from ‘The French Press’) lights were dimmed, each band member silhouetted.
“We recently released our first album, as you may know already,” – its third single, ‘An Air-Conditioned Man’, proving particularly poetic. Their decision to SPEAK lyrics – “While the sirens howled and the wind caressed, under jacaranda, beneath the burnt-out moon,” – added a surprisingly amount of gravity.
The band paused: “It’s amazing to be back in Brisbane. Our first gig here was at Black Bear’s Lodge.” They soared through ‘Exclusive Grave’, ‘Ballarine’ and ‘Time In Common’, barely breaking to catch their breath.
There was NRL banter between the boys and audience before they unveiled the ever-catchy ‘Mainland’; the more minor-keyed ‘Fountain Of Good Fortune’ asserted itself as a discography favourite of mine, ‘French Press’ was screamed word for word by fans, a fitting closer.
Three interchanging vocalists though it’s fair to say that, listening live, not one is a singer. But the switch between voices and varying of speaking, chanting, chiming, is an undeniably interesting Rolling Blackouts C.F element.
Perfect pitch has never been a component of indie rock and it needn’t be – tuneful singing would sound too clean. Ironic statement considering their balance between four guitars (tricky feat) is exceptionally tidy; each instrument has an essential place in the melody.
A melody almost entirely dictated by guitar, almost always – as you’d expect, with an electric, electric, acoustic, bass, percussion assembly. There’s something impossibly likeable about guitar-driven music, Rolling Blackouts C.F’s sunshiny riffs particularly appealing.
I do worry the band’s beautiful lyrics are often buried beneath their beautiful instrumentals – in saying that, there is also beauty in the understated. One of my favourite elements in composing is pairing solemn words with playful tones, and juxtaposing sayings with sounds is a technique they execute wonderfully.
What was perhaps most fascinating about their performance was their stage presence, it was unexpectedly ‘garage’. Facing the back, or each other, or anywhere but the audience gave the gig a ‘backyard’ feel, not only humbling, but strangely suiting.
Another spot of irony; Rolling Blackouts C.F. have no reason to be humble, ‘Hope Downs’ being so critically acclaimed (“unreal!”). No singers, perhaps, but certainly a talented bunch of musicians who could damn-near be producing indie rock’s best.
