Children Collide
Ding Dong Lounge, Melbourne

When Children Collide frontman Johnny Mackay hives off with his guitar, he holds it almost vertical to the stage as he coaxes bunker-busting swathes of noise out of it. It sounds ferocious, but looks gentle: it’s like he’s cradling a lover in his arms. For all the fury in his performance – right up until the 45 minute set’s closing tune, where his caterwauling guitar and elongated frame take out a roof panel – the audience never feels threatened by him. With his Thurston Moore fringe and the odd sea lion bark punctuating his wry stage comments, Mackay has a gentle stage presence; he appeared unaware of the lust coming off the front few rows at this well-attended hometown show.

With Heath Crawley offering up basslines that recalled early PiL, not to mention a sturdy drummer who had the Frankie Goes To Hollywood look down pat, Children Collide barely relented. The two modes they presented were borderline hysteria and explosive vigour, with the youthful crowd bouncing around appreciatively to ‘Look Good On Paper’ and ‘Cannibal’. As a guitarist Mackay has bought the astral tones of landscape prog into an economical grunge schematic – oceans of reverb transform his notes, with even his indie verse clatter being bathed in a sepulchral tone. At his most direct ‘We Are Amphibious’ propelled bodies forward, but it’s obvious his ambitions are curiously diverse. If Children Collide do have a sound, not to mention a favoured structure, it’s because Mackay is experimenting with variations on a theme. He’s looking for the key that will unlock what only he can hear. Until then he’s leaving onlookers more satisfied than he appears to be.

by Craig Mathieson