SUPERHEAVEN | 170 RUSSELL
Superheaven have helped me through many bouts of seasonal depression now, with my copy of “Jar” on my CD collection definitely being one of the most spun as well as one of my most prized possessions. So when they released their self-titled album last year, the first new album in a decade, I prayed and begged to whatever higher power there may be that I’d finally get to see them live. And somehow, my prayers were answered.
In spite of having just spent the past 24 hours moving houses, with birthday celebrations sprinkled in between, I managed to wind down the staircase into the familiar basement of 170 Russel just in time, as the opening band, Sydney’s own Secret World took to the stage. Arming myself with two cans, I felt a bit too ecstatic tonight to loiter around the back of the crowd alone tonight, so I charged straight into the pit as I snapped my neck in time to the track “The Way It Goes”. I really loved Ryan Pond's vocals, it holds a really gravelly emotionality behind it that belts out with emphasis on some equally guttural lyrics. They’re a very hopeful, wholesome group too, taking the time to preach kindness in the hardcore scene to the choir, which sang in harmony. Such a fantastic start to the night, I absolutely adored this set, filled with songs that are twinkly, high tempo yet devastating. I can’t wait to delve into more of their tracks, and force all my mates to listen to them too.
One can down, one left to go, more bodies sifting past me and the air growing thicker with body heat, it couldn’t have been more perfect timing for Angel Du$t to take to the stage. I had somehow scored a spot about three heads back from the barricade, and as the band slammed into their first tune “I’m The Outside”, I knew I had made the best decision of my life. Shoulders rammed into my back, the sweat started layering under my cargo pants, and my body couldn’t help but jolt in time to the belting of the drum. Each member oozed their own strain of swagger, the guitarists practically melting into their instruments, while Justice Tripp danced coolly around the stage, and at many points taking the time to climb the barricade and sing with the fans. My highlight tracks were “Love Slam” and “Let It Rot”, not only because they were incredibly well performed but also for the crowd's visceral participation in sharing the love too. Clearly I’m very late to the party with this group, and I’m honoured to have had the indoctrination that I did, and to repay my lack of knowledge, their record “COLD 2 THE TOUCH” has been on repeat ever since.
I think the 25 minute break between sets may have been the longest I’ve ever encountered. Thanks to the encouragement of necking the second can, I had made friends with the people surrounding me, and our chattering turned to jittering as the lights suddenly cut out, and a jarring whirring sliced through the sounds of our voices, the electronic backdrop emitting the only light. It was Superheaven’s name in bold, with a claymation of a moon and three flowers blooming peeking through the lettering. Robbins took to the drum kit to slam out the opening of “Sponge”, and it felt as though electricity jolted throughout the room as I was swept away into the mosh. Jake Clarke’s voice is as deliciously mesmerising and melancholic as ever, his raspy whining dancing on top of the gritty riffs.
I wish I could begin to find the words that would aptly describe this experience, the feelings it evoked, but whatever I begin to write just reads quite dramatic, and so I’m going to embrace it. It all began as the groove-laced drum beat of “Numb To What is Real” blared, and I was pressed between sweaty, shirtless man #1 and #2, screaming the lyrics “Trembled voice shakes the room, it’s out of my control, learn to let go,” and I felt as though I was floating. My body let go, I moved wherever the crowd took me, the jarring of feet kicking my shins and elbows jabbing into my face only made me transcend further. As they powered through more beloved tracks, like “Youngest Daughter” and “In On It”, the trance-like haze that fogged the room only became more intoxicating. I don’t think I’ve been to a gig like this before, it truly was like stepping out of a portal from another realm as I stumbled back up the stairs at the end of the night, cold air smacking me in the face, alongside reality. I know this is going to be another night I’ll look back on in nostalgic bliss (or anguish), and yet another “I’ve seen them live!” to keep in my back pocket.