Live Review: The Goon Sax, Kitchen's Floor

There’s a small but jubilant crowd upstairs at Bloodhound Bar, eager to spend their mid-week public holiday in bed with a hangover.

It’s therefore a shame that Kitchen’s Floor seems to be an appropriate moniker for the support act, as you’d find the mess of a set at home on the floor next to the dog’s breakfast. A promising punk attitude is lost in an onslaught of amateurism that leaves many in the audience perplexed and eager for The Goon Sax to take to the stage.

There’s been a lot of comparisons made between The Goon Sax and The Go-Betweens. Part and parcel of the frontman being Robert Forster’s son I suppose. Sonically, they are not too dissimilar. Both feeding on that striped sunlight sound, unmistakably born in Brisbane.

A deflated goon sack is tied around the mic stand announcing their arrival and the band stumble through a set that exudes a charming but inexperienced new wave sound. The inexperience is probably fair to be honest, as the band are all still in their late teens and need to play gigs like this in order to earn their chops and hone their live performance.

But after the success of Up To Anything and recent single Make Time 4 Love, the hype around the trio fell more than flat.

She Knows and Make Time 4 Love is the band at their best. The lyrical sincerity is somewhat lost in the looseness of the gig, however, and though the band shines on record a set plagued by sound issues poses the question of whether there is still something missing.

The praise thrown at the support acts in the form of lead singer Louis Forster saying the problem with playing after them was that, “We’re too drunk now,” might be the answer.