LIVE REVIEW: Craning and Valve at Season Three

13 hours ago

7 min read

Friday the 9th of October saw the end of Craning & Valve’s East Coast tour, with their final gig on home soil in Meanjin Brisbane at Season Three / Echo & Bounce in Woolloongabba. A night of aural onslaught, the bands were supported by A Letter From Greenpoint and Dry Ice. The night was wild, with appearances from all sorts of Brisbane music folks, ranging from the dudes in Leaker to Sam Hale from Jungle Giants. The fashion was dripping, the floor boards were spring-loaded, and the 8$ beers were flowing yeastily. A smoke cloud out the back, doof-dungeon in the basement and all sorts of future humans came out in the moonlight for the freak-fest upstairs. Sneaky overexposed ghost gallery at the end.

First up was A Letter From Greenpoint. I’ve seen them before and their sister band, Lace Angel, at some DIY house show gigs around Brisbane. They’ve started their own grassroots underground scene, with a mixture of Midwest emo, noise and experimental groups playing at their DIY gigs. You have to be following them to hear about their secret gigs, but if you ever get a chance to go to one, I can tell you now they’re fkn sick and the bands strive to create a safe space for all ages at each of their gigs. I’ve always been impressed by them, but tonight they went harder than ever.

It starts with demonic fry screams and chords on the bass. Ollie on the drums is blasting, with the guitar screaming. They drift from slow to fast, with technical time changes and the crowd nodding in approval. They’re tight, both in sound and the crowd work of their guitarist between songs. Camcorders and cameras flashing, they shift from emotive ballads into high speed. The crash is getting a workout from Ollie and singer Dylan faces away from the audience, shooting all her power into the band. Back-bracing ruthlessness, they unleash chaos between the calm. A shriek, and things get dooooooomy. The crowd shrieks back. Dylan takes us into a spoken-word section, with a poetry notebook in-hand. Faster and faster, and you just know the bubble’s about to burst. They contrast serenity into proper wails, it’s emo with black metal-tinged vocals. The brutality fades into your mum’s favourite chords before killing us again. The singer is a mop of hair. She only perceives us in sonar. They build, there’s a crash, we’ve got goosebumps.

They say they’ve got two more songs and the crowd loses their fkn minds. The bass is deep, dowg. Blastbeats into an uplifting whirlwind. Ollie smiles, he knows he’s killing it. Claps from the crowd. Chugz, not drugs. Still going slow into a cathartic release. Boom. It hits. A freakshow on the cymbals. The cymbal’s fallen off! The ride can’t handle it! A Letter From Greenpoint combine dissonance and introspective soft sections to make your best bits twitch.

Second on the stage is Dry Ice. They’re a noise collective, with broken stabs on the guitar, jangling rhythmic de-tuned chords and snow angel vocals. They’re de-tuning while playing, like a piano falling over. The audience is sitting, eyes closed. Meditating. Pondering. Changing. The plodding chord strokes move us forward. It’s bleak. Haunting. I’m not high enough for this shit. Slow scrapes of a violin bow on a broken guitar.

There’s a dedicated crowd. The vocals turn to piercing inhales. It’s coffin music, with drowning low notes, broken twangs and ice-sheet vocals. It builds to a cadence, with a sound like bones bleaching. The strums pick up, we’re freaking the squares. The boundaries are being broken. Knocking on the guitar, like dripping water torture, sending us insane. They’ve got a full spectrum now, the bass notes drone, rhythmic slashes on the creaking guitars, shrill vocals and the crowd freaks out. It’s scary whale music. Things slow down and we’re left twitching in the afterglow, wondering with no answers.

And now we have Valve. Their latest EP just dropped at the end of last month, and they’re celebrating with a big fat East Coast tour for us greedy little underlings. They’ve built up a bit of a following here in Brisbane, with their experimental noise rock fusing elements of art music and hardcore. It’s weird. It’s heavy. It builds. And their songs are getting longer and longer. In the best way possible. They’re tuning, asking for more bass in the foldback, please. They tell us the gig is being recorded and it’s gonna be released as a split with Craning, in what could only be described as the single most moistening release imaginable. They made it here after many maladies on tour and it was ‘do or die.’ The drummer / frontman, Ben, introduces their newest song:

“We are Valve. This song is called 'The Rat Gets the Cheese,' because it motherfucking does. Do not be the rat. Do not get the cheese. Kade’s tuning, everyone. Thank you.”

And then they brain us with space noises. The drums kick in. R2-D2 squeaks and the guitar gets Ruthless Randy on our unsuspecting hymens. Rapid fire rage as the rats get ready. And then the bass comes in. There’s a small tumble pit forming, they’re joining the rat club. And as with all things Valve, it builds. Dissonant twangs and a pit erupts. Audience adoration as the song breaks apart. “Thanks to Letter From Greenpoint and Dry Ice for always being freaky and awesome.” They tell us there’s a running gag that they’re a ‘dark post-hardcore band,’ before making introductions. “Craning are the best band in the entire world. Kade is tuning again. So thank you to Kade. And that is Che. I am Ben. We are Valve the Dark Hardcore Band.”

Next is the first track from their new EP, ‘Doggerland.’ It forms the first half of an 18-minute epic, leading into ‘How to Push it Down Into Your Hollow Legs.’ It grows, a pit lurches and there’s a videographer down. The guitar builds, Kade’s breaking minds and Che is shooting sonic jet gutturals as the wall of sound grows and takes command of the room. Dress shoes hit the pedals and reality breaks. They take us down the drainpipe, feedback left hanging, Dead Weather style. They finish with their latest single ‘Garden Wall,’ and us humble audients are crushed beneath the weight of sound. Go to a Valve gig. Get their new EP. It’ll tickle your lil ear pickles. Guaranteed disapproval from your parents, and slow nods of approval from your peers. Hi-fives in the showers. Valve the Dark Hardcore Band will take you places. Special, special places.

And now for the headline, Craning. The crowd is charged. The room is dimly lit, with nothing but orange hazard lights and shadows. The noise comes in, harsh. Mouth of the band, Isobel Tait is powerful, hand raised with mic in the air. The sound cuts; blood, guts a real horror show. The room falls apart, a pit opens up. Bam. The lights are out. Shout outs to the bands, to Palestine and to Micky on sound. Best sound guy ever. Nick on the doors (and Josie). They tell us this one’s a new song. James on the guitar and crowd work, he’s got a mask on and sick. Lost voice, contagious. The bass punches and feedback screeches. My notes just have a whole page that says ‘DAYM’ scribbled in all-caps. It fills the room, the guitar creeps in and it gets scary.

They might just be Brisbane’s wildest live gig (and now adopted by Melbourne). Guitar stabs, James is choking out words. We get plugged in and uploaded to the local data centre as things get heavy. Isobel is a puddle on the floor, things get slower. Cries. A girl goes down. The crowd pulls her back to life. The tunnel goes deeper. They’re sword fighting with metal roof gutters on stage (this is not a euphemism). Clatters, crashes, one or two people leave – they’re too freaked out. But a hundred more are captivated. James is on the amp, guitar stock scraping against the ceiling. Feedback screams as he assaults the amp. The sound is cauterizing. Drums guide us back in, and they’re still hitting shit. It’s a dental drill with no anaesthesia. Back into the darkness, bass pumping. Guitar flaying us alive.

They move into the song ‘JAWMAX,’ and it’s alien music. Hazard lights blaring, pit churning and hardcore vox zapping our mindholes. It’s the scariest breakdown I’ve ever seen, I’m still recovering. The crowd froth their jocks off. James’s voice has really gone now. They tell us the next one is a new song. Starts off with ancient notes into caustic sludge. Things start growling. Their stage presence is crazy. Hair whips, sonic beams, hand in the air, always. Craning are fkn scary. It’s past our bedtimes and we need to call our mums. Staccato scrapes, drums & cymbals crashing, guitar jelqing and the bass descends. The room is shaking and the vocals move from pleading sighs to shrieking knives. The crowd goes bananas. Even when it’s over, it’s still playing in your mind. I need to talk to my therapist about this.

By the time this article goes live, Craning would have just supported Midwest emo giants La Dispute at their Melbourne gig on October 19th. Their EP ‘Distress Tolerance’ is available on Bandcamp, Itunes music, and YouTube. Check them out live if you ever get the chance, they’re one of the best live acts your eyes can see. Thank you to all the bands who played and congratulations to Valve on their new EP. Check it out HERE on all the different streaming platforms. Can’t wait for the live split with Craning! Huge thank you to everyone who shared the stage that night and helped organise. Massive thanks to Season Three for hosting the sickest gigs around. Below is a photo gallery and some video highlights from Craning. I love how everyone yells the lyrics at the end of 'JAWMAX'.