Monday, November 24, 2008

Magic Dirt: An understated review

This picture was not taken by me, but by householdriot

Magic Dirt came to Broken Hill yesterday. They played at the Entertainment Centre at 2pm on a Sunday afternoon.
This was a strange occurrence, as bands never come here, owing to the city's status as a smallish place that is hours and hours from anywhere. In fact, when confronted with the fact that a band of note was coming to play, the common response I received was "why are they here? Who organised that?" It's a telling example of how strange it is for bands to come here. My response of "they're a band, they're here to play music for people" was met with befuddlement.

But anyway, the point is that Magic Dirt was amazingly awesome to the max and it was the greatest thing forever.

Ahem. As I write this it's only been a few hours, so I'm still grinning and giddy.

For realsies, it was an amazing performance. Magic Dirt played both the experimental, feedback infused thrashings of old and the rocking gems of new. They executed both styles well and melded them together with a lot of raw, passionate energy. The guitars snarled in this amazing, almost sci-fi way I can't describe and energy poured from the stage. Adalita is a charismatic frontwoman and it's hard to take your eyes from her a she writhes on the floor and kicks into the air, but you should, because the dudes have it goin' on. The way a guitar bounced in the guitarist's [Raul?] hands while he elicited scraping feedback from it was intricate and fascinating - and dude can adopt a wi-i-ide stance when the solo demands. And it demands.

Magic Dirt was supported by local band Soulforge who are a metal band that plays metal while dressed in metal and their mothers are made of metal. It was their first set of all original songs and they were impressive. Their sound is huge, unrelenting and solid. Their songs range from full speed metal punches to the abdomen to heavy rock anthems. Their choruses chug along in a way that you can't help but feel in your testicles. They also boast an impressive range of rock moves and poses, which is something I particularly enjoy.

The performance was frustratingly underattended. Those who were there had a blast measuring in the range of fifteen hundred megafonzies. Much of my frustration is that I wanted to rave about the performance for weeks, and I demand a larger audience.

I tried to thank the band seventeen times upon the show's completion but had to rush to work after securing an MD beer cozy. No work was done for the first two hours of my shift though, owing to important air guitar commitments.

If by any chance they read this at any time ever, thanks again.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Ya gotta love chicks with sweaty armpits!

(i have no friends...)

B.