LIVE: PANDEMONIUM FESTIVAL – Melbourne, 20 April 2024

LIVE: PANDEMONIUM FESTIVAL – Melbourne, 20 April 2024
Alice Cooper, Blondie, Psychedelic Furs, Wheatus, Wolfmother, Cosmic Psychos, Aimee Francis
By Shane Pinnegar
Photos by Benny Clarke with thanks

To be honest, it’s a miracle Pandemonium Rocks Festival went ahead, beleaguered as it was almost from the start.

In fact, the initial announcement and the music on the day, are about the only things that went off without too much of a hitch… mostly. Both of those had issues, if we’re honest and look beyond our rose-coloured glasses.

More power to the promoter and his team for persevering through a VERY bumpy ride and putting the show on, though. They’ve had to contend with irresponsible media incorrectly announcing the collapse of the tour; cutting half of the headliners and the (not unjustified) outcry that comes hand in hand with that; another band (Palaye Royale) pulling out at the last minute due to an apparent illness in the family; and a couple of days ago, cock-up on their website which saw hundreds of ticketholders’ personal data exposed when they sought a ‘Partial refund’ (which is cold comfort when their favourite bands were axed from the gig. I wouldn’t have paid for flights from Perth solely for the revised line-up, without Deep Purple, Placebo, Dead Kennedys and more).

Let’s not forget that a LOT of Australian music festivals have fallen over in recent months, so despite all the headaches and dramas, the amateurish organisation and the inexcusably shithouse communication from Team Pando, at least we got our day of music in a paddock, whether it was the music we’d hoped for when tickets were purchased or not.

After a long walk from the ride share drop-off point, we’re in time to catch the tail end of Aimee Francis’s set. These late additions were obviously loving the unexpected opportunity, and a little reminiscent of Baby Animals as they gave the show a good start. They warrant further investigation on our part.

There’s no mistaking Ross Knight’s deep fuzzy Lemmy-like bass rumble, and Cosmic Psychos set is an intense way to spend the better part of an hour in the early afternoon’s sun – even if half of it’s spent braving epic queues for the bar. Those queues were ridiculous when half the bar wasn’t staffed, but before the sun sets later they’d be much more manageable, so it was a temporarily annoying issue. The less said, however, about the ranks of portaloos being (literally) a blister-creating hike from the action, the better.

Cosmics classics Nice Day To Go To The Pub, Dead In A Ditch, Fuckwit City, Lost Cause and the hilarious David Lee Roth are a much loved wall of sound, while Knighty – double denim farm clobber – and Mad Macka – red short shorts, blue singlet and thongs – chug a couple of beers and have a hoot, Macka’s topless beergut guitar solo and the trio’s three bum salute the endearingly cheeky icing on the cake.

Andrew Stockdale’s Wolfmother are back to a trio – which is how they’ve always sounded best. They’ll never be better than that insane original line-up, of course, but they play a near perfect short set today that ticks all the right boxes.

Dimension, Woman, Apple Tree, Vagabond are all rightful, vital classics, and it’s a shock when he introduces a couple of non-debut-album tracks California Queen? and Rock On as “Here’s a song that isn’t twenty years old. It’s way better than those old ones” He’s joking, of course, and wrong, of course, but they’re pretty good nonetheless – but the two decades old thing was a shock.

“We have seven minutes left…” shows that if nothing else, stage management is being run professionally, and Stockdale & Co launch an incendiary, extended Joker & The Thief to end with a roar.

Like many, I only really know Wheatus for their One Big Hit, Teenage Dirtbag, and I found that annoying as hell back in the day. So imagine my surprise when their set – and that song, teased as a so called ‘sound test’ and then saved in full for the end – was great.

Starting the set properly with Temporary Song, AC/DC’s Rock & Roll Damnation and working through such underrated tunes as Lemonade, Valentine and Leroy, the 4-piece band plus 2 backing singers, led by Brendan Brown’s crazily high pitched vocal range and a wildcat drummer all combine to make me a convert.

The sound has been pretty good up to now, but problems begin with the Psychedelic Furs and Blondie’s Debbie Harry both fiddling with their in-ear monitors and struggling to hit their notes here and there.

Furs singer Richard Butler even stops one song in frustration, unable to hear the keyboards at all, and his Bowie-esque vocals are clearly suffering because of it.

Despite a less than sterling set, it’s still great to hear classics Love My Way and Pretty In Pink, and the best thing about an eclectic festival line-up is the exposure to acts and songs less familiar to us, like Mr Jones, and Heartbreak Beat. As an aside, I’m betraying my age here, but how great it is to see the bands on one stage, rather than 40 or 50 acts scattered around half a dozen, the majority of which only a handful will get to. Granted, twelve bands with a seamless turnaround and no dead time would have been better, but I do prefer this model to the multi-stage hyper-festivals of yore which seemed more a “I’ve got more bands than you have” dick-waving contest for cocaine shovelling show-offs.

As mentioned, Debbie Harry also experiences some monitor problems. We can’t expect people to sing in key and in time when they can’t hear their band (especially in their late 70’s as Harry is, or late 60’s, Butler), and I have no idea whose fault this was, but it shouldn’t happen. The artist and the crowd deserve better.

When she’s on form, she ‘sings like a bird’ to use Glen Matlock’s words, and Blondie’s set is an all killer no filler delight. You almost forget how many classics she has under her belt: Hanging On The Telephone, One Way Or Another, Call Me (best keytar solo this side of WaWaNee), Atomic (though the disco smash was perhaps the apex of Harry’s sound problems), In The Flesh, an excellent Rapture, The Tide Is High, Heart Of Glass, Denis Denis, Dreaming – just to name a few.

Harry is aloof, like a stately lady of the manor overseeing her domain, or is it like a cat toying with its prey? Either way we lap it up, whether she’s encouraging us to keep each other warm; rapping like a boss; urging her crack band onwards (only drummer Clem Burke remains from the early days, with former Sex Pistol Matlock now on bass, Matt Katz-Bohen on keys and razor sharp guitarists Andee Blacksugar & Tommy Kessler tearing it up) “we haven’t much time, let’s not fuck around…” then adding to the crowd, “I don’t mind if YOU fuck around…”

It’s a great set despite the sound issues and cold night air, but the best is yet to come. Which makes it surprising that the crowd thins so much between Blondie and Alice Cooper. Surely a fan of one would be a fan of the other? Even if the queues or epic journey to Morder for the toilet got too much for some, only a fool would willingly miss the perfectly precise shock rock theatre of Alice Cooper.

Tonight’s show seems like a cut down version of his current touring show (shorter sets being another downside to the festival experience) so the storyline doesn’t entirely make sense, but basically Alice is on trial, his songs are evidence of his naughtiness and antisocial behaviour, and as always, he loses his head and is reborn. I’d say spoilers, but it’s been that way for decades, so *shrugs*.

The songs are mostly from the 70s, with a few more recent favourites. No More Mister Nice Guy, I’m Eighteen, Under My Wheels, Billion Dollar Babies – Alice swooshing his rapier around but no dolls heads impaled tonight, Hey Stoopid, Department Of Youth, Snakebite – complete with snake wrapping itself around his neck and arms, Zodiac Mindwarp co-write Feed My Frankenstein – complete with mega monster FrankenCoops, and modern classic Poison.

1970’s footage of Vincent Price’s Black Widow intro heralds the high drama section of the night, guitarists Nita Strauss, Ryan Roxie, Tommy Henrickson and Beasto Blanco main man Chuck Garric on bass and Glenn Sobel on the drums are all shredding like mad before the murderously guilty Alice – now clad in a straitjacket – delivers an impassioned Ballad Of Dwight Fry before facing the guillotine, whereupon the band plus Mrs Cooper – Sheryl – show off his head to the family friendly tunes Killer and I Love The Dead.

Alice knows what works and he hasn’t felt the need to change the formula for a long time now, but somehow it hasn’t grown old and tired – perhaps the vibrancy and sheer talent of his band can take a large chunk of credit for that.

As always, an encore of Elected sees Alice winning hearts and minds in search of our votes, and Schools Out remains one of the most perfect songs ever and a fitting closer, nowadays with a snippet of Another Brick In The Wall included.

So, Pandemonium Rocked, though it was far from perfect – one fellow reviewer commenting that at times it felt like it had been planned by interns.

There are scant festivals left in Australia, and even less featuring even a smattering of hard rock acts. It’s in all our interests for this to succeed, and to become a regular thing. But Team Pando, just… y’know, treat your clients with more respect, keep those interns away from planning decisions, communicate far, far more clearly, think a bit more about the punters who are paying you, and do it all… better next time. Please?

Category: Live Reviews, Photo Galleries