What:

- I OH YOU/Faster Louder & jjj unearthed ARIA week showcases

Where:

- The Standard & Oxford Arts Factory

Architectural Features of The Standard Bearing Striking Similitude to Technos’ 1989 Side-Scrolling Arcade Game ‘Double Dragon 2 – The Revenge:

-          The tri-level ascent to the stage area

-          The aforementioned ascent being clearly (even thematically) delineated. Lower Level 1 stylised as noodle bar (easy start, many power-ups). Level 2 is a sort of downtown semi-constructed type of populated area,replete with smoky blue vista over factories and palms (on balcony – power-ups), exposed internal framing and snaking ventilation ducts. Gritty 1989-style cool. Upstairs is the boss level, New York carpark style, with exposed girders, chain link fencing and classic 2-Levels-In-the Same-Level construction.

Décor That Highlighted Deterministic Differences Between Man And Machine:

-          The industrial remnants (sewing machines) on the mid level. A machine that has led an industrial life has a high likelihood of being found in a cool bar. The opposite is true of humans.

 

People with Drinks Named After Them On The Standard’s Drinks List That I’d Most Like To Meet:

-          Vincent Vega

-          The Dude

-          Charlie Chaplin

People with Drinks Named After Them On The Standard’s Drinks List That I’d Prefer Not To Meet:

-          El Diablo

How the Band Palms Captured the ‘Beautiful Ruin’, So Important in Meaningful Popular Music:

-          Pelagic, squalling guitars

-          Bobbing heads and throwing bodies around in a generally inexhaustible manner, seeming, at the time, to capture youth at its most ephemeral

-          Really gripping song that ranged the full narrative length from ache to catharsis

How Sweetie From the Band Bloods Perfectly Articulated the Music of Palms

-          By pretending to stab me repeatedly in the chest.

The Amount of Times That the Holy Name of SONOS (*refer to Previous Writeup) was Piously Displayed Throughout the Venue:

-          9

The Name Displayed on the Soundsystem in Other Parts of the Venue:

-          BOSE

How SONOS Exacted a Swift and Terrible Revenge on Us All For the Sonic Sins (Above) of the Establishment

-          By DJing the shiniest of Club Bangerz in between Palms and DZ Deathrays. SONOS is actually on the list of playing times.

Subtle Hint Inside the Venue That Reminded Us Exactly What Country We’re In, Mate:

 

Greatest Mystery of the Standard:

The mysterious process of Fashion Osmosis, in which the all of the Conspicuously Uncool open collar shirts diffuse invisibly out of the building over the course of the night, and are replaced by a perceptibly higher volume of youth and denim. This is not indigenous to the Standard, and always happens without anyone noticing.

Follow-up Question. Where Do All the Conspicuously Uncool People Go?

-          No idea. Although in my case, I went to the Oxford Arts factory to see Jackie Onassis.

Things Kai Tan From Jackie Onassis Wants to See From You, Crowd Member:

-          “Your 1’s” (fingers) in the air

-          Your body swaying (“like this, follow me”)

-          You “bounc[ing] with me”

-          You clapping in unison

-          You saying O “When I say Jackie, You Say…”

-          Your hands waving at the band, as if providing some sort of crude/ineffective air-conditioning for the stage

-          You saying Ola Ola Ola (“I can’t hear you”)

Phrases Provoking the Idea That Kai Tan Thinks Sydney is an Actual Person

-          “Thanks Sydney man…”

-          “Sydney Can I Tell You One More Story Real Quick…”

Two Questions Posed by Kai Tan That Instantly Confirmed What Was Already Obvious About the Room’s Core Demographic:

-          “So who here grew up in the 80s!?” (Applause. A few weak cheers)

-          “So who here grew up in the 90s!?” (Roaring from the crowd, cheers and loud applause)

Number of Times Kai Tan Declares How Happy He Is:

-          5. All clearly genuine.

The Psychological Tools Jackie Onassis Employ to Create a Party:

-          By convincing us that this might be the last good party ever through a process of shaming the audience into movement and momentous proclamations like “we came here to turn this whole place into a motherfucking house party!”.

-          A seemingly impossible, Brand New Puppy degree of energy, which sees Kai Tan literally bounding across the stage

-          Intra-JJJ references to a very JJJ audience (“This song’s for Tom Ballard, why you leavin’ us man?”

-          Exploiting perfectly the ratio between Familiarity and Notoriety:

The Psychological Tool DZ Deathrays Employ to Create a Party:

-          Back at The Standard DZ Deathrays are expounding the general sound/energy of a Velociraptor eating its own young. As opposed to Jackie Onassis, DZ Deathrays don’t invite you to join them. They ‘Don’t Care’™ They ‘Just Do What They Do’ ™.

-          You’d be crazy not to join. Because what they Do™ comes with a hulking cloud of instant associations containing but not limited to: House parties, general excess and unclean fun, rave reviews from NME and other formally trusted institutions, high profile festival spots, and being the generally accepted embodiment of Young People Not Giving a Fuck ™. So DZ put their heads down and played some emancipating, eviscerating rock n roll. And let some other guys do the crowd surfing. Undeniable fun. 

Things That Remained Lost or Missing:

-          Palms guitarist Dion from the stage due to busted wrist. On the plus side, Al seemed to do a suburb job of growing Dion’s guitar solos into the mic.

-          The bottle of Sailor Jerry that Simon from DZ Deathrays foolishly put me in charge of smuggling into a Tiki Bar

-          Basking in the vast, dazzling array of talent at the Sony showcase at the Star (sorry Mum, missed it, I couldn’t get that photo of Bonnie Anderson you wanted signed. Again.)