Your inside source on student friendly entertainment.
Published February 23rd 2012
Despite a few hiccups, Beige Abrasion's original and absorbing soundscapes were a refreshing addition to Adelaide's oeuvre of local bands.
The trio alternated between organ, guitar, drum kit and a buffet of effect pedals and other programmable electronic devices. This combination was inventive, and it was really exciting to see who would play what from moment to moment.
Although the freedom of this arrangement was engaging and unpredictable, it was not very conducive to catchy tunes. Abrasion didn't play songs so much as embark on long timbral explorations. Occasionally the band lost track of where they were going, and the only music was an abrasive (pun intended) ringing that occasionally outlasted its interest.
But just when I began to get restless, this patiently built tension would explode into a sustained climax lasting several times longer than the build-up that invested it with such impact.
It was then clear that this was the intended effect from the beginning, as the drums came pounding heavily and the ringing electronic pulsations that annoyed me before took on a new and pleasantly dissonant meaning.
Given that the Crown and Anchor's fallback system didn't appear to be working, (the band had to walk out into the audience to even hear what they were doing), creating this kind of impact is a pretty impressive achievement and there was enough interest in the performance dynamics between members to sustain the drama when things were going wrong.
This is not the kind of band you see when you want to go dancing. It's decidedly Apollonian, and that's exactly how they like it; experimental Adelaide music with a fresh take on the status quo of the rock concert format. If Beige Abrasion can stay clear of the technical kinks that held them back at their debut, then the world will be their experimental droning psyched out noiserock oyster.