Words By: James Verslusis
Silver Hills have been living the hermit life for the last couple of months, secretly replacing members with new members that look like the old members, writing new stuff and becoming really invested in putting grapefruit into their gin and tonics. Gracing us with their presence for the first time in a long time, neon sunshine hugging their shoulders, Silver Hills launched into a set comprised almost completely of new stuff. However, despite their absence, droning long haired pop fuzz seems to still appease the croning masses. The band has made a flawless transition from psych rock to a far more “poppy” sound, however, despite this change, Silver Hills still manage to retain their ever pleasing, visceral, oily sunscreen slathered dream pop sounds. Additionally, if the stage kicks are anything to go by, if the music thing doesn’t work out for these boys, they could hold their own as kickers in the NFL. With a new album on the horizon, the boys over at camp Silvers are a long way from being done, especially if this new and improved lineup is anything to go by.
Up next, fresh off their stint in the Big Spash, were the Psychedelic Porn Crumpets. Resembling Jimi Hendrix fresh off the end of a light globe, phaser-filled rock n’ rock soon filled every orifice of Jack Rabbit Slims. If you’ve never heard of these fine fellas, that’s completely okay. From what my Facebook stalking could teach me, they’ve only been letting the riffs fly loose for about a year now, yet the atmosphere these wizards can conjure up on stage suggests they’ve been at this far longer. Effortlessly surfing through various sonic soundscapes, providing both musical highs and lows where appropriate, and generally having a bloody good time while doing it, Psychedelic Porn Crumpets are clearly a new force to be reckoned with.
Finally, Perth punk patriots, Pat Chow, took to the stage. While they sound more like a meal, than a band, I hope for your sake that you didn’t see them on a full stomach. Delivering gut wrenching punk song after bile inducing garage rock song for 45 minutes straight, Pat Chow barely took a moment to take a breath. Crowd inhibitions were out the door, as a mixture of alcoholic and sonic intoxication took control. Special mention has to go to vocalist, Ben Protasiewicz, who seems to be a man born without exhaustion.
Rotunda Media 