The World Is A Vampire Festival - Brisbane 2023
Written by: Tom Wilson - Sense Music Media | Saturday 15th April 2023
Photos by: Dalton Collis >> VIEW GALLERY
… and the crowd goes mild!
** NOTE: Opinions expressed in this review are solely those of the writer, and do not necessarily reflect the views of Sense Music Media **
The first leg of THE WORLD IS A VAMPIRE Festival opens with locals PISTONFIST, and they really didn’t need to go this hard – leaping out of the blocks with a groove as heavy as a truckload of anvils. With the heaviest rock riffs this side of CROWBAR and DOWN, they give the punters up the front a neck workout – Geoffro’s raspy yells unfurling in the afternoon sun. He takes a second to point out that his son is in the audience, starting his first ever concert by watching his dad onstage, and thanks the promoters and HEAVY’s Kris Peters before closing with Black Rain. We’re off to a strong start.
I imagine the look on my face was absolutely priceless when BATTLESNAKE’s intro music starts, and seven men emerge onstage wearing bedazzled priest robes and sneakers – the singer rocking giant horns and gloves with elongated fingertips that he wraps around the mic stand like tendrils. A seven-headed hydra of power metal insanity, BATTLESNAKE combine the riffs of IRON MAIDEN with the silliness of SPINAL TAP and Wes Borland’s BIG DUMB FACE. They’ve even got a bloke playing a hot-pink keytar, because of course they do. They strike endless poses across the front of the stage – their bassist giving us his best Steve Harris by aiming his instrument across the crowd – and you can’t help but get swept up in the insanity.
I’m not sure what the Venn diagram would look like between fans of live music and fans of professional wrestling, but I don’t think it’s what Billy Corgan sees in his mind’s eye. Punters have paid around $200 a ticket, and most of them would probably rather see live music than turn around and watch oiled up athletes do acrobatic violence every few sets. This is in no way a slight on the wrestlers themselves. I couldn’t do what they do, and anyone calling wrestling “fake” is doing them a disservice. It’s not fake, it's just choreographed. The leaps, throws and tackles are feats of great skill and timing, and the sounds of their bodies slamming into the deck will have even the hardiest of us reaching for the ibuprofen. But I can’t help feel like they would have had a much easier time selling tickets if punters were just getting a rock show (neither today’s show, or tomorrow’s Bribie Island show have sold out), but I also don’t own my own wrestling league, so what the hell do I know?
What I do know, however, is a great live show when I see it, and that’s exactly what REDHOOK deliver, as singer Emmy Mack sprints onstage in a straightjacket and Hannibal Lecter mask, being chased by two orderlies who look a lot like the guys from BATTLESNAKE. She breaks free of her restraints, pulls down her mask and launches into the booming metalcore-meets-nu metal bounce of Cure 4 Psycho – a whirlwind of swivelling eyes, thrashing hair and Taylor Momsen-style nipple tape. Only Bones and Low Budget Horror follow, before Fake absolutely detonates, even segueing into the breakdown from LIMP BIZKIT’s Break Stuff (after which we’re thanked for not burning the place down, Woodstock-style.) I Don’t Keep Up ticks off another bucket list item I didn’t know I had, when they create a circle pit using a saxophone, before Emmy busts out a splattered white dress and a mouthful of fake blood for Dead Walk. REDHOOK – their future is so bright, they should be wearing shades.
There was a time when I sought comfort in the fact that my generation had successfully eradicated the mullet, but throughout the last decade I have watched that hairstyle come roaring back to life, so when AMYL & THE SNIFFERS take to the stage featuring a pair of weapons-grade mullets, I had to throw up my hands and declare the battle lost. It’s over. The mullets are here to stay. Bursting with a similar energy to the oiled-up wrestlers, singer Amy Taylor is bouncing around the stage in a white two-piece and platinum blonde hair like Deborah Harry after a crate of Red Bull and an eight ball. The energy is infectious, and she even gets the burly security staff giggling during Security, taking each one by the hand. After a rapid-fire set of rock anthems, there’s only one thing left to do – tell us to GFY.
We might not be getting Dave Navarro onstage tonight, but JANE’S ADDICTION are still a sight to behold – a mesmerising psychedelic freak out of tribal rhythms, dazzling lights and that voice. Perry Farrell saunters onstage in a sparkling vest and cowboy hat, snake-hipped and smile beaming, as he raises his mic and tilts his head back, letting his croon unfurl into the evening sky. “Got time for a sip?” he asks the crowd, before swigging red wine from the bottle. A trio of scantily clad dancers drape themselves over a monkey-bar setup on the side of the stage as they take us through a sonic journey. Jane Says is a thing of beauty, and Been Caught Stealing becomes a thunderous jam – the bassline irresistibly groovy. As the set comes to an end, there’s only one thing to do … and that’s Stop!
We assume the traditional SENSE review position – front row centre on the barricade – and watch as the lights dim and the crowd picks up. THE SMASHING PUMPKINS emerge onstage, guitarist James Iha almost Elvis-like in a bedazzled white shirt, and Corgan in corpse paint and a flowing trench coat, an insignia scrawled on his forehead. They plunge into Empires, and something seems … missing. We can barely hear his vocals, and when they move into the iconic Bullet with Butterfly Wings, I hear more enthusiasm from the two girls behind me than I do the band onstage, and I realise that I’ve been bracing on the barricade for crowd movement that just doesn’t come. It’s bizarre. They find some energy later in the set, as Cherub Rock shifts into Zero, but it’s in short supply. Corgan and Iha at least seem to be having fun, the former trying to goad the latter into playing AC/DC, but after the berserk energy of the bands that opened the festival, their performance tonight seems particularly tepid. They don’t even raise an eyebrow when two wrestlers come out and brawl during Beguiled, and with Silverfuck, they leave the stage. The crowd are still calling for an encore when the roadies come out and start packing up, but it’s not happening tonight.
Overall, the first leg of The World Is A Vampire Festival is a bizarre experience. There have been some fantastic performances, both by the Australian supports and the legendary JANE’S ADDICTION. It’s a pity they ended things on such a dull note.
All photos by: Dalton Collis
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