Broods lay down a great indie pop show where times and musical eras are not fixed. They may well be Aliens travelling in their spaceship bubble.
They are a family band, raised in Nelson and establishing themselves as Broods in 2013 in Auckland. Under the production guidance of Joel Little (co-writer of Lorde’s Royals).
Georgia Nott chanteuse, and Caleb Nott synths, guitars and gadgets, are completed as a triad on stage with cousin Jonathan Jono Nott on drums.
With her Sixties style bob-cut hair and mini-skirt, Georgia resembles Edie Sedgewick from the Andy Warhol gang of celebrities and freaks. She whips her body around the stage in a sensuous snake dance all night.
She is the visual focal point of the band and is fascinating and mesmerising to watch, for the whole performance. A part of their electronica pop drone would have its genetic origins in the Velvets, as well as the pioneering Space-Age influenced Sixties sound of Joe Telstar Meek.
They showcase many of the songs from their great album of last year, Space Island.
Goodbye World, Hello Space Island opens the evening and the album. The pulse beats take you back to the dance electronica of Human League.
Clean, piercing synth sounds like a cutting laser, matched to deep throbbing bass vibrating through the floor on Piece of my Mind and Heartbreak.
The floating tones from the album are made visceral and plumb the depths which resonate through your core. They are pleasurable electric body hits.
Rita Mae is a new face on the indie pop scene in New Zealand. She has some fine musical pedigree. Her father is Jim Laing from the Jean-Paul Sartre Experience, one of the iconic bands in the Flying Nun stable.
Raised in Muriwai and the wild and tempestuous West Coast which is an inspirational source
for many artists of sound, canvas and sculpture. Devastated in the recent floods, but the community is strong and pulling together.
Even though she is young, she already has a brash and confident stage manner. Dressed in a tutu she has the presence of a Lolita. Eerily reminds me of seeing a young Benee on stage when she was fronting a teen band.
Similar band behind Mae. It also includes Jono on drums.
She runs through some bright indie pop tunes. Super Feeling, Someday and Cinema. Chiming guitar lines and solid understated rhythm support.
Sunny Afternoon had its inspiration from times of depression, she tells us. It does relate to its famous namesake in that sense then, the one from the Kinks in 1967. The opening riff resembles the Animal’s version of House of the Rising Son. She sings it with a light-stepping pop rap.
She is a folkie as well. Sits down with an acoustic guitar to sing Death Song. A bright and lyrical style like the Sixties Paul Simon.
Closes with some jangling guitar pop and swing in Candy’s House.
Their brand-new single Fuck My Money is a winner. Decadent Los Angeles synth pop echoing the Eighties and the amoral drifting ennui of Less Than Zero. I’m just gonna take the money/ They don’t really care about me.
That mood reached its apotheosis with American Psycho, when at its centre he screams I just want to be loved!
Like A Woman is magnificent. Gospel pop and the rhythm is slowed down. Georgia’s singing reaches a peak of great blue-eyed soul, and of course I am reminded of Madonna’s Like a Prayer. She does not over-emote though.
One of the distinct qualities of this band is their restraint. Clear on their recorded music. On stage you get all the tension and emotion, but they don’t let the pot boil over.
This is best showcased on Gaslight. They extend and stretch out. It throbs the gristle. Surges and fades and becomes shamanistic. They have the crowd in the palm of their hands.
Every Heartbeat has the brutal spine-shaking bass line of Grandmaster Melle Mel’s White Lines (Don’t Do It).
A rave from start to finish, which is impressive. Georgia is genuine when she tells us they have waited a long time to present this show.
Broods close the show with a stunning workout on Peach. Everything is looking peach now!
Rev Orange Peel
Click on any image to view a photo gallery by Chris Zwaagdyk:
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