w/ KARNIVOOL + COG + OCEAN GROVE + PLINI + SLEEPMAKESWAVES + RELIQA + YOMI SHIP

Written by: Tom Wilson @thetomwilsonexperiment - Sense Music Media | Monday 15th August 2022

The Prog Gods Over-rule Mother Nature

What better band to open a potentially very wet festival than a band with the word “ship” in their name? There are ponchos everywhere today. The skies are grey and threatening, and the recent scenes at Splendour in the Grass have convinced many of the punters to arrive in gumboots and raincoats.

Opening a festival with an instrumental band creates a great vibe. There is no singer feeling like they need to double as an emcee and get the crowd going. There are no calls of “come up to the front!” With YOMI SHIP, the music does the talking, and it speaks volumes. A Perth trio consisting of brothers Nick and Jarred and bassist Jade, they launch into a dreamy, psychedelic soundscape, where time signatures and rhythms are things to be experimented with, not rules to be followed. Drummer Nick is wearing a bandana across his face, as if to protect us from the sheer power of his moustache. I don’t know what his drumkit did to piss him off, but he is punishing it onstage today, and the results are glorious. The jazzy tones of Seamonkey erupt into storming power chords and almost bring the house down. The tone of the day has official been set. The band go on to watch almost every band from side of stage – drummer Nick watching the kit with laser focus, a prefect-worthy student in the school of prog.

Sydney’s RELIQA certainly don’t dial back the complexity. They emerge onstage and open with a track that sounds like they’re playing three songs at once. It’s bewildering, dense and brilliant. Singer Monique Pym cuts an imposing figure onstage tonight, offering up boundless charisma, an impressive vocal range, and some dangerous looking karate kicks, while bassist Miles Knox pummels the low end and instantly wins the Best Dressed Award for Monolith. Guitarist Brandon Lloyd muscles through some technical difficulties with his guitar and handles it like a pro, and Monique introduces a special guest to the stage. Out strides Dylan Davidson from DEADLIGHTS, and they tear into new single Safety. Monique can barely contain her excitement when she mentions that the back half of their set is entirely new material, and we’re among the first to ever hear it live. The title track of their upcoming EP I Don’t Know What I Am brings their set to a close, and they leave the stage beaming.

It's finally stopped raining, and one by one the ponchos are stowed away as SLEEPMAKESWAVES take the stage. “You ever do something really consistently for ten years and then just stop for three-and-a-half years?” Otto Wicks-Green asks the crowd with a smile. “That’s what this is.” If this is what the band sounds like when they are, as he puts it, “blowing off the cobwebs,” then holy shit, they must be phenomenal when they’re in form, because SLEEPMAKESWAVES are on fire today. Steam is rising off bassist Alex Wilson as he hammers out bass distorted into abstract shapes and textures. With no competing stages, there are no distractions, and as Otto stands on one of the speaker stacks, gently plinking notes out of his guitar, the crowd is mesmerised. You can hear a pin drop. They dedicate their 2014 song Great Northern to their long-time fans while sipping beer of the same name, and the smiles on their faces are infectious.

We hear a gang shout of something offstage, and seconds later, PLINI emerge. The man himself takes centre stage, and I immediately notice two things; if his guitar was any more cutaway it would be classified a ukulele, and it probably costs more than my car. But my god, he can play it, and without saying a word, they take us through an instrumental journey, backed by a drummer with what can only be described as a weapon’s grade moustache. My goal in life is to be half as serene as PLINI looks onstage today, smiling happily at the crowd as his fingers dance up and down the fretboard. It’s more than halfway through the set before he even says a word, introducing the band and clearly having a brilliant time. It’s telling that the security have completely pulled out of the photo pit, choosing to watch us from the side of the stage. There won’t be any crowd chaos right now. The vibe is dreamy and bright, and fittingly, the sun is starting to poke through the clouds.

After a chilled-out afternoon of prog, it’s time for a tonal shift, and as OCEAN GROVE’s Dale Tanner comes sprinting out onstage in overalls and a shaved head looking like an escaped convict, the first mosh of the day breaks out. Trading prog noodling for booming, party-starting nu metal, Flip Phone Fantasy is utterly electric. Boundlessly energetic, swigging from energy drinks the size of an Olympic baton and busting out dance moves worthy of Michael Jackson, Tanner is on fire tonight – leaping up onto the barricade and diving into the crowd. Sex Dope Gold is berserk – the soundtrack to a Crusty Demons of Dirt scene never filmed. Silver Linings and Bored are enormous singalongs, and the boys have Monolith eating out of the palm of their hand – bassist Twiggy Hunter demanding participation with every hand-clap. Their performance tonight is nothing short of remarkable, and they leave the stage with people shaking their heads in disbelief at what they’ve just witnessed.

The first time I saw Bondi’s COG was at the Falls Festival in Marion Bay in the early 2000s, with barely twenty loyal fans lining the barricade while the rest of the festival was preoccupied with their felafel. Barely two years later, they’d turned into a prog powerhouse that you missed at your peril. Emerging onstage to the familiar synths of Brian May’s Gallipoli theme, they launch into Bitter Pills before the familiar count in for Anarchy OK rings out, and the crowd swells forward. If there is ever an alternative music version of Eurovision, COG would be our best bet at winning. Intricately crafted and uniquely Australian, they are a supremely talented unit. What If? and Resonate are booming, and The Middle is a beautiful ode to their story as a band. Flynn mentions PUBLIC IMAGE LIMITED, and people start pre-emptively cheering, because we know what’s coming next. Open Up is absolutely devastating, sending a stream of punters over the barrier, and when they wrap things up with Bird of Feather, there isn’t a dry eye in the house. a

A giant screen is raised to shroud the stage, and as the roadies work busily to set up, the packed crowd is led in a rapturous singalong to QUEEN’s Bohemian Rhapsody on the P.A. As it comes to a glorious end, the lights go down, and the spectral figures of KARNIVOOL appear behind the screen. Fear of the Sky erupts, and the screen is dropped, immediately landing on the heads of the barrier security and a few unfortunate photographers. It is quickly whisked away, and singer Ian Kenny beams at the audience, gyrating around the stage in a dazzling white jacket. The band are in phenomenal form tonight, and the crowd around me are singing every single word back at them at the top of their lungs. Kenny takes a moment to praise everyone who braved the wet weather to check out the earlier bands – “I salute you!” Someone up the front asks if he was there, and he smiles and replies, “No, because I’m a pussy.” Set Fire to the Hive turns the pit into a rising tide, and through every note, he keeps half an eye on the front of the crowd, making sure we’re okay. He does a quick vibe check and asks if we’re all good as a few punters are whisked out of the throng, before they launch into the off-kilter stomp of Roquefort. Themata is flawless, and the crowd is at fever pitch when they return for an encore of All it Takes, and end with the appropriately titled Fade.

We walked away from Monolith Brisbane with a spring in our step. Australian music has never been stronger than it is right now. Our sincerest thanks to Tim Price and to the front barrier security for running a fun and safe event.

All photos by Jimmy Wah - Sense Music Media

MONOLITH on Spotify