By Robert Bain

Thursday night at the Borderline, and there’s a distinct tone of what I understand is called “Americana” by people who want to avoid any association with the term “country music”. I could have sworn we were just off the Charing Cross Road, but it feels like we’ve travelled back a few decades and are deep in the midwest.

As if to prove the point, the collection of Americana-tinged acts are preceded by the very British Jack Cheshire. He takes the stage alone to kick things off, armed with his acoustic guitar (probably the only one of tonight’s acts who doesn’t pronounce it “geet-tar”) and his flat English vowels.

He’s an unassuming, even slightly awkward figure, but he bashes out his melancholy songs with such conviction that he’s a joy to watch – it’s like seeing someone practising in their room when they think no-one else is there. In fact, Cheshire’s slurred singing style, nervous twitches and sudden excited outbursts between songs give the impression that he may be somewhat unhinged. In a good way.

It’s a shame he doesn’t get the audience he deserves before having to make way for the nights other, janglier acts.

Jangliest of all are the Desert Downtown, who look like they’ve got lost on the way to a ‘50s theme party. They serve up polished, foot-tappy country tunes with nice male-female harmonies – a little too nice, if anything.
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by Rebecca Law

The Furies describe themselves as “an itinerant band of Eurotrash ex-millionaire playboys fallen on hard times”. With individual musical influences as disparate as their wardrobes, they are a motley crew who boast a raw energy in their music, which is as indefinable as it is inimitable. The anarchic skill of the guitarist combined with the natural showmanship of lead singer, Elmo Jones, in his obligatory indie uniform, make for a charged live experience.

Rebecca Law caught up with them in their studio in Victoria to talk music, Platonic realms of form and deliverance through creation.

Q. Who are The Furies?

A. The Furies are Elmo Jones on vocals, Suroj Sureshbabu on guitar, Eliseo Soardi on bass and Jez MacDonald on drums. Essentially though, The Furies are just four people who love to play music together. We came together through a bizarre series of coincidences in 2005. It was almost inevitable that we would meet. There is a certain force, which is guiding The Furies and it’s currently at its Zenith. We’re doing a lot of gigs and people really seem to like what we’re doing.

So who is going to like The Furies?

Anyone who likes to tap their foot hard and dance. With all things, there are fashions but as soon as something becomes cool and exclusive, suddenly, everyone knows about it and it’s not cool any more. Our mission, if we have one, which we don’t, is not to be a part of any particular scene. We don’t really fit into any particular pigeonhole but we hope there is something timeless about our music; timelessly cool and timelessly attractive to the people who are listening to it. If you look at Led Zeppelin, the Rolling Stones, the Stooges, they have something that goes beyond trends and fashions and it’s a kind of spirit: it’s not just about the music, it’s about a way to live. It’s the kind of spirit Rock & Roll originally was.
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By Robert Bain
(Wednesday 6 December 2006)

Natasha Khan doesn’t do things by halves. Before her on-stage persona, Bat For Lashes, even appears, the stage has been adorned with candles, fairy lights and dry ice. Khan and her three female bandmates emerge dressed in swathes of cloth with gold hairbands, glitter on their faces for good measure.

At this point the show could go one of two ways. If the songs hold up, this handful of wannabe fairy queens will have succeeded in creating an ethereal air of mystery and wonder. If the songs falter, they’re going to look like a school art project that’s been allowed to go too far.

Happily, the songs rarely falter. Khan enthusiastically waves a shaker and tambourine throughout the foot-tapping first song, “Trophy”. Her smooth voice goes effortlessly from a whisper to a wail, and for such a gaudy act, her singing style is surprisingly natural, with none of the affectations and Americanisms that so many singers fall back on.
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