I walked into Loons on Friday night with a belly full of Bomba pizza and Montepulciano ready to be wowed by a largely unfamiliar list of band names. These are the gigs that make the best memories; when you’re going in blind to what you’ve never seen before. The music was already blaring, the staff greeted us at the door and kindly guided us to form a nice line at the merch desk “I love the variety of my job” said the lady at the desk as she drew a G on each of our hands in vivid. The music was already blaring and the hall was a bustling mess of punters dressed in steezy op shop finds and tattoos – I immediately regretted forgetting my earplugs. A band of 7 people ran amok on stage, two were doing star jumps. I was in the right place, Griftfest.
The poster for the festival consisted of sad cartoon angels flying through the air, I knew I would be coming to an offbeat show – but The Perfect Gun were truly like nothing I’d seen before. The music was raucous and fun, with a synth player battling a vast array of pedals – but the most gripping feature were with three ‘extras’ on stage. The ‘extras’ were either doing star jumps, feeding the band lollies, or running about with percussion and melodicas adding chaos. It felt like a youthful interpretation of Ratso. The music ebbed and flowed between songs, swelling into walls of sound. The extras disappeared from the stage, only to re-appear with a large long paper Taniwha on sticks to parade through the audience and the stage. Fantastic.
As a friend told me they “really liked the giant hungry caterpillar” another four took to the stage. They were loud, grungey, and the singer had a voice out of Seattle. As the music got more and more energetic the pit formed and the timber floor shook. S.E.I.S.M.I.C’s singer experimented with getting the mic deeper and deeper into his mouth while the guitarist and bassist experimented with each other. A highlight of the performance was the slow and filthy performance of “The Demon” – the harmonising guitar riffs had me grinning just like one. The next time the pit opened, I risked a dive into the violence, and was relieved to find my millennial ligaments returned unscathed. Good fun.
“I hope the next band isn’t too heavy” I heard beside me. The lead singer emerged with bright red hair to her waist, plugged in her guitar and the PA screamed in defiance. Cruelty were heavy – and deep in their feelings. The bassist oozed cool and the audience nodded along. Despite their rancour, the songs never unleashed the pit, but the emotion was palpable. A very slick performance.
While the youths went outside for a vape, the main act Grifthorse, the name sake of the festival, finally emerged to take the stage. Griftest is the brainchild of the Ōtautahi post punk outfit who seem to find the premise of a typical album release part too boring. We had seen the troupe at Space Academy earlier in the year and were excited to see what new treats they had in-store. I secretly hoped they would bring out the caterpillar.
The band’s marketing manager called the youths back inside and the music kicked off. Bouncing between the mellow vocals of Ben Sinclair and the vehement screams of Rutene Rickard. The band play an energetic show divided by experimental samples. “April Rain” continues to be a favourite live with a great opening riff and a 5/4 close to appease the nerds. The audience demanded an encore, the band had clearly won them over. “We don’t know anymore songs” was the answer – perhaps this had gone better than expected.
The final band had a tough job to keep an audience engaged after the festival’s organisers had completed their set. They began with a thumping riff, foot to the floor rhythm, and the thickest bass tone of the night. “This is a very long intro” I thought to myself (I later realised this was an instrumental band). This was not a problem for “Space Bats, Attack!” who were absolutely one of the stand outs of the night. It was difficult to take our eyes off the relentless drummer who effortlessly played at ridiculous pace endlessly. This continued song after song, with a face overflowing with as much joy as I’ve ever seen a man muster. The energy was infectious, and my neck has irreparable damage from the participation. After they were done we went straight to the merch desk asking for a shirt, a tape, anything Space Bats, Attack! “I have no idea who that is” said the lady behind the desk. Great gig.
