Bridezilla
The Mandarin Club, Sydney

The rickety lift to the fourth floor was strewn with blood red roses; a warning shot across the bow before stepping into the rouge Orient Room, the opium den meets Little Shop of Horrors design scheme a fitting canvas for the night’s proceedings. Here to launch their eponymous EP, the early nerves for Bridezilla evident beneath the opening keyboard part were soon smoothed out by Daisy Tulley’s clamorous violin. Starting off proceedings with an instrumental was a savvy way to introduce the line-up, setting up a space that could breathe before vocalist Holiday Carmen-Sparks held sway.

Striking throughout the entire set was the manner in which Tulley’s classic-tinged violin and Millie Hall’s jazz-licked saxophone, echoing Coltrane, were weaved into the very fabric of the music; wholly integral rather than merely incidental, providing more than the standard colour or adornment commonly granted to such instruments. Centre-stage and a magnetic presence, Carmen-Sparks has the makings of a consummate front-woman. Bringing back the lost art of eye contact and reaching deeply before offering, she is capable of a lovely, breathy delivery. Thankfully, as heard in songs like the punchy ‘Brown Paper Bag’ and the smouldering ‘Saint Francine’, the chance of a whimper or a growl just around the corner keeps the listener alert for nuance.

Bridezilla’s stage presence slips at times into that of a band playing at being a band – they haven’t yet learnt to fully immerse themselves in the music and the moment, but they make a welcome effort to connect with the appreciative audience. Tulley’s wanderlust takes her to all corners of the stage and beyond, while Hall’s occasional saxophone squirts straight into the crowd sparkle. The band works well together but at times there’s something lacking, Bridezilla’s bass-less five piece line-up would benefit from more happening in the lower register, a bass player providing a bottom end to drive the story along. Nevertheless, Josh Bush’s restrained drumming remained a handy foil throughout, while Pia May’s guitar lines were for the most part crisp and glistening – though sometimes a little too clean.

The strongest moments came when the guitars set up a tension and an element of danger. This is exciting but still, for the most part, merely hinted at, but it is where their true potential lies: moments of darkness, filled out with crazy sax, melodic violin, intricate drumming and moments of dissonance in the guitars. Bridezilla have a promising future if they can explore some of the drama bubbling beneath; an east coast doppelganger for Perth’s brooding Schvendes. The trick will be to resist looking for drama outside their structure, avoiding unnecessary flourishes and tacky embellishments. Their strength lies within the ground they are exploring, in the meeting places of their contradictory ideas. Their appearance of youth and innocence creates a tantalising contrast to the sense of darkness and despair, yet they have the musicality and inventiveness to become a truly complex band, comfortable with their own sound and craft.

by Benjamin Millar