The Globe is a pressure cooker of tightly packed bodies and body odour tonight – perhaps I should be grateful that something took my breath away.
Psychedelic Porn Crumpets: the name alone raises expectations, although I wouldn’t have expected porn, or crumpets, live. Either would have been unbearable, given how much I was sweating within 10 seconds – but after immersing myself in the Australian band’s back catalogue over the last week, psychedelia was surely on the cards.
Entering the stage with Luciano Pavarotti’s Nessun Dorma blaring out of the speakers, the band were immediately at full-tilt with Tally-Ho: high-energy, fast-paced rock that descended into crunching guitar riffs. The volume had been cranked up way past 11. The floor was pulsing. An adoring audience was nodding in unison. It was thrilling.
Then, (I’m A Kadaver) Alakazam, Surf’s Up, Mundungus, Nootmare (K.I.L.L.I.n.G) [Meow!]… interesting titles, but the songs had now blurred into each other, an indistinguishable blend of heavy riffs and predictable crescendos.
The crowd, undeterred, reacted with the same slow headbang – just one of many observations, as my mind started to wander. How is the lead singer able to breathe behind his mane of hair? Is the band’s synchronised and exaggerated riffing intentional, a well-rehearsed gimmick? Actually, there are people with Wayne’s World caps on: am I missing the joke? If I stand by the doors, will I get a little draught to cool down?
The dynamic shifts between psychedelic, progressive, and garage rock that added depth and diversity to Psychedelic Porn Crumpets’ studio albums had unfortunately been left at home in Perth. I attended hoping for an exhilarating, even slightly ridiculous show. Unfortunately, I was just uncomfortable and bored.
Psychedelic Porn Crumpets, The Globe, Mon 15 July
words and photos DARREN HOWELLS
