by Radhika Takru
There is a scene in Dig! where Matt Hollywood (or maybe Joel Gion) explains to the camera how Anton Newcombe would love to be able to clone himself so that the Brian Jonestown Massacre could consist of Anton on vox, Anton on guitar, Anton on bass, drums, sitar, accordion, xylophone etc - an idea that may be viable in the case of a studio recording but is a trifle difficult to achieve live on stage.
Or so one would assume.
Noah Symons is the one man band Great Earthquake and he seems to have figured out a technique by which the chronological flexibility of a recording studio (or basement or garage or bedroom) can be transferred to a live stage.
Noah's onstage set up bears a striking resemblance to what you'd imagine to be a dream situation for any musician - fledgling or otherwise. There he sits, unthreateningly encircled by an A to X of instrumentation (no zithers as far as I could see). He picks up a guitar and picks out a couple of bars of a melody. He then returns it to its resting state but the hook keeps going. The drums are the next effortless conquest and their beat layers itself comfortably over the sounds already playing. And so it goes on - simple melodies on an assortment of instruments creating this fascinating lasagne for your ears before your very eyes. Noah builds these spectacular soundscapes slowly and meticulously and startles you with their abrupt dismissal in the span of a nanosecond.
Main course Psuche were going to have a tough act to follow, thought I. Sandwiched between them and Great Earthquake was soup-of-the-day Aviva who took to the stage to perform a rendition of Steve Reich's New York Counterpoint. With this sort of thing, it's not so much the music itself you need to appreciate but more the skill that is required to battle a conflicting yet complementary melody that plays along with you. The end result was a tiny bit eerie in the intimately low lamplight that framed Aviva and as you listened you found yourself following her mind more so than her fingers.
Now, Psuche - here's a band I had been hearing about for the past two months or so and was convinced I was the only person left in Melbourne who hadn't actually heard them. It was to remedy this situation that I ambled up to the Empress in the first place. After Great Earthquake, however, I made the astute observation that if Psuche managed to outdo Noah it would only be because they had more people in the band.
Well, one more anyway. I did not know Psuche were a two-piece. I did not know they were so, er, experimental. I did not know *ribbid*, *arf*, *honk* and *baaa* counted as legitimate forms of musical accompaniment. This is a bit odd. Oh, they're sharing fairy bread with us audience folk! Awesome, I love them! Oh and this one (1) song isn't terrible. No wait - good god, there's some major talent there! Still - why are things so... odd?
Oh, I see. They're not a two-piece. They're a four-or-five-piece beset by unforeseen circumstances including but not limited to a concussion and a Jewish camp. No matter - their set is still undeniably enjoyable despite the bandmember drought. Impromptu rap and fairy bread did make sure the evening wasn't a loss in any sense of the word but I really must stake them out in their more, what d'you call it? 'professional' avatar.
Psuche have taken up residence at The Empress and will be playing there every Thursday in July. Great Earthquake keeps them company again next week as do several other peeps. Wouldn't be a bad idea to squeeze yourself in there.
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