Live Review: Boris, Dreamtime, Grieg

Before this, the first show of their 2015 Australian tour, prolific noise weirdos BORIS posted to their Facebook that their tour merch would include custom, $330 fuzz pedals.

Luckily enough, the type of people who lose their shit over custom $330 fuzz pedals don’t really care about the State of Origin so Crowbar is filling up while local noisemongers Grieg get things off to a very heavy start. The three-piece can go from Eyehategod to Mogwai and everywhere else on the noise spectrum in the course of a single song, so it’s exciting to try and keep up with them as they jam.

After Grieg satiates the metal kids in the audience, the Doors-worshipping Dreamtime come on to appease the pothead component of the audience. Their psychedelic soundscapes are dreamy and immersive, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt why they are one of the Brisbane bands to watch out for. 

With their smoke machines pumping and their amplifiers blaring, Japanese noise behemoths BORIS transport the crowd out of Crowbar’s basement. Gone is the floor sticky with spilt beer and everyone around you jostling to catch a glimpse of the band; instead punters are taken to a dream-like realm where everything is beautiful, hazy and warm. Some people might suggest that music that makes you feel like you want to go to sleep is not good but if any of those people were in Crowbar tonight they would realise that they’re absolutely wrong. BORIS could very well sell pillows with the tour dates embroidered onto them at their merch desk given how powerful, yet ethereal, their noise assault is. Even as Takeshi hits a crushingly fuzzed out chord and Atsuo pounds his kit, an oddly calming feeling emanates from the stage. As intense as the show gets while Boris are hitting the drone metal they are best known for, there’s an unshakeable lightness to proceedings. It’s weird and it’s brilliant and it would be enough in and of itself to make for a show that’s liable to pop up on your Best Of list at the end of the year. But Boris aren’t one-trick ponies, and tonight they’re not just offer up the big droney cuts. When they’ve finished a lush jam like Pink, which feels like it might have gone for 45 minutes because you lost track of time when they hit the first note, BORIS can change it up to the crusty punk cuts off their Noise record or the restrained bubblegum pop where the soothing tones of Wata’s voice gently wash over the crowd. How they can combine all these influences into one absolutely gorgeous performance is anybody’s guess. But dude, sweet dreams are made of BORIS’ set tonight.