Industrial in Studentville

Editor rating: Nine

(63 reads) To my mind, Ramfest is the alternative to alternative music fests in SA. And now they have their own DVD of Ramfest 2008 to prove it. Friday night’s combination of live acts and diverse fans at Klein Libertas Teater would agree with me.

Battery 9 are stalwarts. Their spirited, strings, snare, cylinders-and-spark-plugs sound has lasted years in a topsy-turvey industry, and their artistic growth has garnered the respect of music loving veterans and virgins alike. This night hosted the kick-off their album launch tour, “Galbraak” - a term people who’ve drunk too much free Chattabox understand…

aKING are unsung heroes. They’re teaching music lovers to chant poetry, seducing scenesters across the country with a smile and filling hearts with an altogether almost alien state of conscious celebration. Theirs is holy work in a land of hopes and tears.

Put the two together in Stellies, and you’ve got trouble…

Klein Libertas was a clutch of subcultures that clicked in the spring winds. The fascinating collection of crazies included long, tall, dark-haired dudes with stickyout silver things on their faces that made me think of Horrorfest; warm ones with big hair and fat smiles that made me think of Avontoer 2008, incey-wincey bokkies in their party best, all cleavage and stiletto and spikey smiles that made me think of Miss SA, and the T shirt-and-trousers brigade making up the majority that made me think, sjoe, but some bands really are ambassadors of sound in SA. This majority, by the way, also buy CDs and DVDs and beers and tickets to festivals, and the music industry respects them. So much, in fact, that the aching boys are hosting an exclusive designer t-shirt exhibition on Tuesday.

Battery 9 don’t fork around. They knife through sound like it’s Saturday night at the Shack and uNathi is chef – chop, chop, sizzle, slice, sigh. Clean, powerful, industrial mixes seasoned with compulsive vocals, and a side order of live art. Enough to renew your liver. Or your spirit. Hard, hopeful, and nothing short of gourmet.

For dessert we had Hunter and Hennie and Laudo and Jaco. These lovely boys have finally put the cherry on the top and now we can have our cake and stick it in our eyes as well as our ears. It’s taken them some time, and I’ve waited patiently and said nothing about a certain lack of s-s-ssomething on stage. And I won’t ever either, because they’ve passed that stage, and if you want a hard-happy sing-along that looks as good as it feels, get your dose of aching live. They are the crème de la crème of commercial rock. Amen.

We finish with an afterthought. If you drop your drawers whilst standing on a chair inside Klein Libertas, and pull the big boy out for other drunkards to admire, spare a thought for the odd innocent journalist walking by less than two meters from your manhood. Or thank your lucky stars she didn’t have a camera at the ready…