A hedging of stacked tables and chairs created a suggestive vacant space at the Toff on Thursday night – a gentle ramming from behind to get us dancing. By evening’s end, however, the idle furniture had been plucked from these positions in a bid to minimise wasted space. Which isn’t at all to say that WOW and The Emergency aren’t dance-worthy, although I’m betting the meagre audience simply weren’t prepared for the onslaught of sound they were to be confronted with. I for one found myself staggering backwards into a sympathetic chair, initially struggling to absorb the apoplectic electro pop.
‘Electro punk’ might best describe the clamour that is WOW. A dramatic entrance from the Sydney duo was basically a television sci-fi climax circa 1980 (sans tin-foil). The Toff’s red curtain slowly surrendered to a heavy fog of smoke, while alien-blue lighting reveals two silhouettes standing at their respective synths: Matt Cribb and Bree Carter. An iconic apple stands glowing between them promising samples, mixes, mash-ups… something! While on paper the similarities make it tempting, don’t compare them to The Presets. I was disappointed to hear that, aside from an occasional sampling of old whodunit crime voiceovers ala Humphrey Bogart, WOW pretty much left their music to the devices of a screeching guitar (Cribb), a barely audible bass (Carter) and a whole lot of shouting. This, I guess, is their appeal. In a commotion of sirens, wailing synth and a mammoth dose of cowbell, WOW seems to evade any lazy categorization of their sound. A hint of a riff in Werewolf gives greater scope for dancing than the fit-inducing loops of No Aspirations, which left me dizzied at best. Icy Cold was clearly a stand out, harnessing an unhinged childishness from Cribb (similar to Victoria’s one-man act Muscles)which created some fantastic energy. Props for breaking footloose with that cowbell. Annoyingly, more often than not Carter crossed the ‘carefree’ zone and took a casual stroll through ‘who cares’ territory. Void of the energy needed to pull this kind of noise-music off, it wasn’t until she and her bass turned their backs to us and ambled to the back wall of the stage that she lost me entirely. This was the kind of gig I really wanted to enjoy, but… maybe it needs more cowbell?
If you want to compare Melbourne electro partnership The Emergency to The Presets, go for it. But don’t stop there. Throw in the languid vocals of Depeche Mode, a Fischerspooner rhythmic android pulse, and a little brooding sexuality from David Bowie before you call it a day. The Emergency are Milo and Morgan, and in spite of a 12” album launch they reek of humility. The Emergency boast an interesting title, contrasting with an incredibly controlled musicality; Milo’s unearthly, evocative vocals, supported beautifully by Morgan’s engaging technical solidarity. No sign of chaos here. As the ethereal electro of Something to Tell You booms into the Toff cosmos, The Emergency stand in complete concentration. So much so that I would almost believe they were manoeuvring their way through the galaxy, pinned in front of a space projection not unlike a Windows 95 star screensaver. With Shock Wave slowly shifting the audience in their seats, one by one we are moved to sway along with Morgan’s Tai Chi styling on stage. He encourages his counterpart’s impressive performance, exclaiming “Man, you’re on fire!”
In truth, they both were. Spending Time brought a little more bone to their beat, with clear funk influences spurring on the restless audience. Although at times a leaning towards loose experimental sound distortion may have detracted from their impressive foundations, The Emergency definitely staged a celestial launch.
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