A crowd of people begins to file into the back room of Baby’s All Right and the members of Cultfever are outlined in shadow against a back stage wall of multicolored lights. As soon as the overhead lights brighten, Cultfever begins the show with a powerful command of the stage as the bass drum commences like a continuous heartbeat. Lead singer, Tamara Jafar, sings the words, “I’m supposed to free you of your mind.” The band holds an apparent lasting energy as Tamara crawls on the stage and pushes her body into guitarist Joe Durniak, nudging him to various places. There is a communal energy spread amongst all members of the band and even the audience begins to take on a kind of upbeat buzz.
As I look around, the crowd nods their heads and bodies in unison, eager to join in on Cultfever’s conversation. This is a rhythm that won’t leave your head for days. I can picture audience members attempting to doze off and repeating lyrics over and over in their minds. Each song seems to compliment the next as Cultfever’s performance weaves together an experience that flows, echoing one another’s tempo in guitar and vocals. They uphold a precise beginning and ending to each song, as the final note of each song throughout the night is cut off in unison.
Half way through the performance, Durniak picks up on the vocals as Jafar plays a dream like melody on synthesizer. Cultfever’s musical conversation continues as it dips in and out of focus, shifting from one topic to the next as members of the band trade off on the instrument highlighted in different songs. The beat, however, is consistent throughout; as drums hold down the essence of Cultfever’s well-known song, knewyouwell, which the band plays second to last. As Cultfever finishes their set, Jafar leaps off the stage and starts dancing at the front edge of the crowd, moving back and forth from each side of the room in a frenzy of vivacious spirit. She jumps back onto the stage to sing the last half of Cultfever’s final song as the room breaks out in applause.
Mansionair, from Sydney, Australia, opens up their show with a sample and a lullaby like melody as a bass drum powerfully kicks in. There is a prominent soul and R&B influence in the band’s music labeled as electronic-indie – evident in lead singer, Jack Froggatt’s, vocal tone and range as well as a humming synthesizer that echoes throughout the band’s set. Froggatt sidesteps around the middle of the stage as he simultaneously sings smooth vocals; an intricate drum rhythm holds out consistently. Mansionair’s music sounds like a kind of honest plea as Froggatt asks, “What are you afraid of?” repeatedly. The music breaks down to nothing but a drumming side rim and bass, then it picks back up again, oscillating between slow and fast paced as an overarching beat is reincorporated into Mansionair’s songs. “I am held back by all these rituals,” Froggatt repeats as a somewhat spiritual melody begins, cymbals crash for the first time, and the synthesizer remains intertwined and focused on a dreamlike melody. The band does not fail to provide unique and unpredictable beats throughout each song during the night as Froggatt’s voice ranges freely in soulful harmonies. Complimentary elements do not cease to play out, particularly in the relationship between the songs’ tempo variations and vocals.
As I peer behind me, taking my eyes off the stage for a moment, which seems unnatural to do being caught up in a Mansionair musical spell, the audience looks to be under a dreamy daze. The lights, Froggatt’s voice, and the synthesizer, all seem to add up to something close to a lucid dream. Mansionair is guiding us through sleep. The band continues to cover a Future Island’s song, Seasons, as Froggatt states, “You’ve heard it before, but not like this.” He is, without a doubt, correct. It is a striking rendition. Hold Me Down, the band’s hit single, is the last song played in their set. Guitarist, Lachlan Bostock begins the song, as only guitar is audible until a shaker soon joins the conversation. A deep bass rhythm commences in unison with Froggatt’s vocals. The song, once again unsuspectingly, reduces to only synthesizer, snare, and vocals, then when you least expect – picks back up again. The audience sways on beat in a unison approval and energy. Mansionair finishes their last song as the crowd pleas for one more and erupts in an overwhelmingly energetic applause.
Article by: Lindsay Skedgell