The stage at Ric’s is impossibly small at the best of times, but with one Aleks and five Ramps it’s all but disappeared beneath their excitable jumping and stamping feet. For this Melbourne band the clear space just in front of the stage (uninhabited by both fans of the group and those who had stumbled down from the hip-hop party jams upstairs) inevitably became the perfect space for the necessary breaking down of barriers between band and audience. Acoustic guitarist/keyboard twiddler Joe frequently leaped around the floor area accosting audience members all wild-eyed and sweaty-haired. It can be confronting, lightheartedly of course, because this is not what bands usually do. Their actions match their music: schizophrenic pop that at times reminds of The Fiery Furnaces, noise bursts scattered between pop gems, a group cacophony of the most joyful nature with dynamics that give way to some amazing moments in pop and melody.

The smirk on Aleks’ face told of a willingness to subvert the regular boring rock etiquette. Eschewing the more sensible sides of music and rock posturing for sheer ridiculousness is definitely something to be glad for. Aleks’ vocals divide time between soprano and baritone and there’s a fair amount of yelping, animal noises, banjo freak outs and strange harmonies, all the while managing to hurdle across the stage. Live, the Ramps assemble and have the right idea: a live show is a show; but this is far more than an ostentatious display; they entertain with the musical goods to back it up.

by Richard MacFarlane