TISM
Heaven, Fri 5 Nov
A mishmash of lights, colour and action? An interactive blend of song, dance and rampant crowdsurfing? A medley of blistering pop tunes tinged with structured disorder? Vitriolic social satire interweaved with arse jokes? No, just another TISM gig.
Heaven can be a fantastic place to see a band with its tiers, generally good acoustics and plethora of lights. It can also be a soulless creature devouring any shred of atmosphere that the band produces if the audience deign not to get involved or turn up in any great number. TISM were good enough to overcome it all through their intensity and stage presence.
TISM slowly entered the stage through an epilectic's worst nightmare as the riff from Defecate On My Face merged into Everybody's Had More Sex Than Me and back again. Sporting white boiler suits with harnesses connected to impractical large helium balloons, the band were looking good. It took to halfway through ...Sex... before the hardest working roadie was called into action to retrieve Mr Hitler-Barassi from the pit. This set the scene with punters throwing themselves willy-nilly on and off the stage or being ignomiously dispatched by the band or roadies. First time punters were pleased by the accessibility of the music and amused by the antics of band and punter alike.
The show itself was basically a showcase of 'The White Album' with some old time sing-along favourites thrown in for good measure. Greg! The Stop Sign and I Drive A Truck sat easily alongside I Rooted A Girl... showing that TISM's predilection for snappy pop tunes hasn't diminished over the years. (He'll Never Be An) Ol' Man River meshed neatly with Message From A Portaloo At The Big Day Out and Death Death Death, highlighting TISM's unique take on pop culture. Defecate On My Face was done in double time, sending the dancing monkeys into overdrive and the massed choir of punters into a spin. Their mix of ironic aggression - I'll 'Ave Ya and Somebody Start A Fight Or Something - and smut ensured that the predominantly male audience was kept entertained while the pop sensibilities and driving beats kept others dancing.
The music was accessorised with pertinent samples, vitriolic comment and a healthy dose of fun culminating in a typically pointed and splendid Hitler-Barassi monologue on the evils of Australian Idolatry and King John Howard the First. It wasn't perhaps the best show that I've seen TISM pull out but it passed too quickly in a blur of overpriced warm drinks, hip waggling, smirking and general good times. A half decent TISM show is still streets ahead of most bands at their finest.
