Sparta @ the Hi-Fi bar
Sep. 13th, 2004 03:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sharplittleteethSparta @ the Hi-Fi Bar. Melbourne, Sunday 12th September 2004.
We got to the Hi-Fi Bar early enough to catch both support bands. The place was about a third full before the first support even started, and it filled up rapidly.
First was Sydney's Staying At Home - solid emo rock, nothing remarkable.
Second was New Zealand's The Mint Chicks - angular 80's new wave guitar riffs meet frenetic straightedge thrash, singer jerking and leaping up on speaker stacks. More fun to watch than to listen to.
And then Sparta came on.
Every article ever about Sparta has to mention that they're one of the two bands that formed out of the ashes of that great white hope of alt/emo rock, At The Drive In. The other band was the aforemention The Mars Volta.
I saw the Volta play their brand of punk-prog-rock earlier this year, and my overall impression was: very talented, very energetic, but too self indulgent to really grab me.
Sparta had none of the theatrics of Mars Volta, and none of the pretension. What they had was passion, conviction, and magnificent songs.
They opened with a blazing version of "Guns of Memorial Park", which sounds like U2 gone emo. Frontman Jim Ward basically had two postures throughout the concert - hunched over the mike, or feet splayed and screaming. But the sheer lack of posturing worked, because it put the focus on the music, and the emotion.
I don't know Sparta's songs well enough to do a proper setlist, but there were plenty of tracks from their first album Wiretap Scars amongst the ones from their more recent CD, Porcelain. The music flowed between plaintive, echoing quiet passages and riffs massive as tidal waves.
On record, Ward's hoarse screaming gets a bit monotonous, and the songs can sound a bit samey. But live it all just worked. The band were fluid, the music had shape and impact.
Highlights? Well, pretty much all of it.
But "Cut Your Ribbon" brought the house down. And towards the end of the main set, over echoing guitars Ward sang something new, a memorial for the 9/11 vicitms, a protest against the war, and a plea for change come the November US elections.
They played for an hour and a half, and did a two song encore. And after that, everyone in the crowd was hanging out for their next tour. Including the fifty year old guy standing next to me who was there with his teenage son.
A great concert. I mean, not fly-up-to-Sydney magnificent like Covenant, but a great gig.
My only quibbles were my own: I wish I'd listened to the album more beforehand. And I wish I didn't have this god-awful cold.
Big thank-you kisses to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
andricongirl, who bought me the tickets for my birthday. She took lots of photos, which she will no doubt post soon. And while they may not show how great the music was, they will at least show you what a cutie Jim Ward is- he looks like a lanky Martin Donovan, only with sticking-out ears.
We got to the Hi-Fi Bar early enough to catch both support bands. The place was about a third full before the first support even started, and it filled up rapidly.
First was Sydney's Staying At Home - solid emo rock, nothing remarkable.
Second was New Zealand's The Mint Chicks - angular 80's new wave guitar riffs meet frenetic straightedge thrash, singer jerking and leaping up on speaker stacks. More fun to watch than to listen to.
And then Sparta came on.
Every article ever about Sparta has to mention that they're one of the two bands that formed out of the ashes of that great white hope of alt/emo rock, At The Drive In. The other band was the aforemention The Mars Volta.
I saw the Volta play their brand of punk-prog-rock earlier this year, and my overall impression was: very talented, very energetic, but too self indulgent to really grab me.
Sparta had none of the theatrics of Mars Volta, and none of the pretension. What they had was passion, conviction, and magnificent songs.
They opened with a blazing version of "Guns of Memorial Park", which sounds like U2 gone emo. Frontman Jim Ward basically had two postures throughout the concert - hunched over the mike, or feet splayed and screaming. But the sheer lack of posturing worked, because it put the focus on the music, and the emotion.
I don't know Sparta's songs well enough to do a proper setlist, but there were plenty of tracks from their first album Wiretap Scars amongst the ones from their more recent CD, Porcelain. The music flowed between plaintive, echoing quiet passages and riffs massive as tidal waves.
On record, Ward's hoarse screaming gets a bit monotonous, and the songs can sound a bit samey. But live it all just worked. The band were fluid, the music had shape and impact.
Highlights? Well, pretty much all of it.
But "Cut Your Ribbon" brought the house down. And towards the end of the main set, over echoing guitars Ward sang something new, a memorial for the 9/11 vicitms, a protest against the war, and a plea for change come the November US elections.
They played for an hour and a half, and did a two song encore. And after that, everyone in the crowd was hanging out for their next tour. Including the fifty year old guy standing next to me who was there with his teenage son.
A great concert. I mean, not fly-up-to-Sydney magnificent like Covenant, but a great gig.
My only quibbles were my own: I wish I'd listened to the album more beforehand. And I wish I didn't have this god-awful cold.
Big thank-you kisses to
andricongirl, who bought me the tickets for my birthday. She took lots of photos, which she will no doubt post soon. And while they may not show how great the music was, they will at least show you what a cutie Jim Ward is- he looks like a lanky Martin Donovan, only with sticking-out ears.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-09-13 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-09-13 05:35 pm (UTC)But I didn't come out of the Sparta with the feeling of having missed something great that I came out with after Mars Volta.