Battle-like instrumentation locks the quartet together under shimmery Kimbra-esque vocals. HK has surprise in melody, rhythm and timbre.īorderline with My Atoms: swinging and dipping. They’ll show you some new constellations. Not everyone can reach the Major Toms in the space drift. But movement between styles, is kept in the kitchen, and grooves, where other talents drift further into deeper realms of the musical cosmos. The band’s sensitivity to weaving these ideas reveals their communicative talent. Multidimensional polyrhythmic gangsta shit. It’s dressed in tribal timbre – it stimulates sound memories of underground bars and hippie festivals in Brisbane. Tight grooves express complex spirituality. Hiatus Kaiyote are more like cloud hopping at twilight – a magic carpet ride. The DMTed-cosmic-union sound of psych trips like Tame Impala will set you adrift in a sea with nothing but sunny sounds and cloudy hooks to keep you afloat. It’s more lucid dreaming than psychedelic. (And I’m a goddamn reputable voice in this arena, gaddamnit!) Their compositions spread over myriad genres expert Twister players with the grace of Cirque do Soleil. In Melbourne, four people emerged as Hiatus Kaiyote. It was rare, however, to find a band that had refined their innovation. One of my favourite live spectacles was the mash-ups between Danaj and LeSuits (not a direct comparison to the former conchers!:) Sometimes the crossing of genres felt like they stood on a rickety rope bridge built by some kids with a conch. There was a lot of experimental music, too: people trying to make an original sound. Live bands orbiting blues and all its variations and mutations were plentiful. The leafy suburbs where I spent my teens to young adult life were near enough to the city to lie in the wake of the live music circuit of the city. The music is… maybe it’s nostalgic, and so a sentimental drip like me would of course love it. Multidimensional polyrhythmic gangsta shit – their words The fairy dust wears off, happy thoughts are forgotten and music fades.
Poetry of life, felt and lived, is replaced by another, duller work of fiction: job, tax, work, paper work, bureaucracy, and responsibility towards someone else’s goals. The exciting speeds of growth and change slow and grind into responsibility and absolution.
Transitioning from _youth to adulthood_ can be, well, disappointing. Music from morning to night from Led Zeppelin to Prince from Sgt. It was as if I’d learned something new about myself, intrinsic and inexpressible. There was an amazing sensation when hearing new music that resonated with me. Evocative and enchanting companion, lift you up, master of meditation – introspection, harmonising. Music had power, it was an agent of change, a catalyst of growth and thought. Still a lot more than the radio top 10, or even the Rage top 50. We would listen to almost anything – as long as it had real musicians – and it was outside of the homogenising pressure of the mainstream – so maybe not that diverse. There were the metal heads, they listened to metal music exclusively (heavy, death, nu, folk, neo classical, industrial, speed, metalcore, and my favourites cookie monster and screamy voice), then there was everyone else. Loose clicks formed within the group according to genre preference. My band of associates in senior high school appreciated music.
#Hiatus kaiyote recalibrations full
New bands, new songs, new albums (remember listening to full albums?), friends sharing musical discoveries, sharing that earphone I’d cleaned on my trousers, check this out: we were discovering music. Alien: someone sufficiently advanced in raddness may be considered alien, Passion’s infancy
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