Witch Hats
Roxanne, Melbourne

Entering Coverlid Place late on a dark night can make you realise that there’s a “filthy alleyway” culture that runs in parallel to Melbourne’s more popular and visible “laneway” culture.

Past the garbage bags and the neon, a freight elevator takes you into the bowels of Roxanne. It’s a movie set of a place, a maze of dark corners and smoke machines, with a strong sense that forbidden fun is being had by all and sundry. It feels like a fitting place to be farewelling Witch Hats as they prepare to take their show on the road in America. A few weeks worth of minibus life, a brave dive into the deep end.

Tonight’s set is mainly drawn from debut album Cellulite Soul, with a couple of new things as well as ‘Jock The Untold’ thrown in for good measure. The familiar pulse and throb of ‘Before I Weigh’ sits in the middle of the list like an anchor. With a whole album’s worth of new tunes waiting to go, some of Soul won’t be seeing too much more live action.

I’m sure most of the crowd here have seen them play before, but I’d bet real money I’m the only person present who ever saw the Hats’ most frequently-cited influence, the Birthday Party, back in their heyday, as well as a bunch of the other ’80s noise merchants who are also often mentioned. And from that perspective, I can safely say there really is nothing in the comparison at all. While there may be a slight resemblance in the bass-heavy sonic template, Witch Hats have none of the dissolute air of violence that marked their predecessors. Though that’s not to say they aren’t without plenty of dark, frayed edges all of their own.

When Kris Buscombe’s eyes roll back in his head and he starts to really howl during ‘Summer Of Pain’ you get a sense that he’s letting something very personal get loose. A blown fuse partway through cancels out some of their momentum, but there’s nothing really lost as they bring it home, pummeling their instruments with the usual careless glee.

by Trevor Block