The Silvermine Tapes, Little Ice Age, Frontiers In Photography
Jade Monkey
Thurs 3 August



Adelaide can really be a sleepy little town, so to play your only Adelaide show of the year on a cold Thursday night is not necessarily intuitive. Particularly when you don't even get to the stage until just before midnight. And nor do I imagine did it really fit into The Silvermine Tapes' grand plan. Still, for those of us who were able to stick around with no regard for sleep or general health, we were treated, as always, to a splendid display of musical finery.

Though technology promises us a world wide web, the 21st century oracle that is Google provides me with no answer to the age-old question, Frontiers In Photography: Who? What? (Who said street press writers do no research?)

All I can say is that this folk-pop trio were, despite the distraction from rampant conversationalists (sorry), rather good. Their dreamy tunes were amply matched by their intricate musicality and I look forward to the next time I see them, if not just to discover anything at all about them, other than this innate goodness.

Little Ice Age is a band that has slowly built a steady reputation here in Adelaide, thanks largely to the fact that they're brilliant. And they're getting better. A soundscape-creating guitar-pop band (think Art Of Fighting, Gersey, etc.), Little Ice Age have nearly perfected the balance between instrumental largesse and quaint intimacy. This is partially attributed to the endearing character of brothers Tim and Josh Versteegh, whose voices harmonise in a very unique manner and the increasing prominence of drummer Tristan Hennig as singer/guitarist (and yes, Tim's drumming to Hennig's songs is improving at lightspeed). The new material showcased here was also very promising, I must say.

Though the crowd had a glazed, sleep-deprived look about it, The Silvermine Tapes interrupted our combined coma with an awe-inspiring display of dynamic instrumentalism. Having rehearsed but once in two years before their quasi-reunion show in Adelaide last year, The Silvermine Tapes know the true meaning of productivity: a three-day rehearsal stint has yielded about a half an hour's new material, every second of which was infused with the kind of intelligence, power and drumming prowess that makes this band what it is. Finishing the schoolnight at 1 am with a rousing (and slightly different) interpretation of the classic Live By The Sword, the 'Tapes left us hanging, which means that we'll be back any night of the week when they return. Whenever that is.

Ben Revi