I played bass in a band when I was 17. I thought we rocked. Our drummer was a natural, his smooth beats having been crafted through 14 years of love for the skins. Our guitarist was classically trained and had moved to the electric only when he was comfortable the former had been mastered. It showed. Our front man was so suited to the role his lyrics dripped a mournfulness matched only by the fragility of his emotions at such a tender age.
Meanwhile, I was desperately trying to instil myself as manager so that when they all realised my single-note bass lines weren’t up to scratch, I’d still have a role to cling onto.
Our pals were encouraging, but you could always tell when compliments had to fight their way past clenched teeth and more often than not they came coupled with a set of wandering eyes. As a result, you’ll rarely hear me give an opinion free of constructive criticism. Even if I don’t necessarily believe it, I find it’s a more honest response than to let your friends continue trotting merrily down their Yellow Brick Road.
Sometimes, though, you can’t help but gush. And what a pleasure when that happens.
The first was our guitarist all those years ago. Recording with Memoria, he virtually created a genre, producing an acoustic metal album so accomplished it’s hard to explain why the band aren’t already lauded alongside the metal greats.
And now we’re blessed with Neon Highwire. Their tunes come at you at breakneck speed and leave you wondering if their self-description of “nihilistic deeply distorted bass driven house” is sufficiently intense. They’re playing Friday night and next Monday at 93 Feet East. Do yourselves a favour.
There’s only one thing better than loving good music, and that’s associating with the visionaries that produce it.
http://www.memoria.com.au/
www.myspace.com/neonhighwire
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