Lost; Squadcar 95; O!; Bluetile Lounge; Tucker Bs; Sleepy Township, The Lone Star, July 15, 1995

Let’s not talk about the weather. Let’s talk about one of those events that no matter how frigid it is outside, you end up leaving with a yummy warm soul. And it all comes down to that little, definitive Perth scene – the Chapter Music and Aquamudvuv co-op.

Mr Blackman started the musical proceedings in a chummy congregation under the moniker, this time, of Sleepy Township. With two-thirds of Molasses supplying the rhythm, Blackman showcased the full range of his monotone delivery to much adoration and warmth, including the members of O! who pointed and giggled during a cover of their track, Outskirts.

I was not prepared for the onslaught to follow – all hail the Tucker Bs! More from the Wormfarm side of the Tasman than the rest of the bands, this experience dried my eyes with the most frontal barrage of brilliant blitzkrieg ‘grrrnge’ that I have seen in ages. With a vocalists able to scream in three different keys, I went home and burned my Seattle collection. Yes.

There is nothing in Perth, and maybe on the planet, like Bluetile Lounge. Where else can you have time to contemplate every single note played, go buy a drink, and hop back into the lotus position for the next note. Spellbinding and beautiful, their three song set emanated a ‘wall of mellow’, the eye of the proverbial cyclone for the maelstrom to come.

O!’s short set included “a cover of a Sleepy Township song”, namely Outskirts, which by this time had drawn a big huggy crowd into standing up and wiggling. Fresh Blast, from their CD Sporco, was a pearler and by the time their final song rang out it all seemed to combine and grow into Squadcar 95 and the Lost supergroup. Squadcar lacked the direction of the former, though their sensibilities were in the right place, if not the right time. But hey, that’s the point.

And what can I say about the chuffed fathers and mothers of the new baby CD – whoa, Lost combined artists and audience in a primeval display of O! jammin’ with a Homer doll and a spooky nod to Jethro Tull. With three guitarists, two bass players, two flautists and stage smoke which would not go away, I was just amazed that they didn’t incant the devil. What it did do though was incite the audience into new chapters of this little scene, one which will not cease when Mr Blackman moves closer to his beloved New Zealand next week.

Adam Connors