Live Review: The Drones, My Disco

On this dreary afternoon down in the not-so-waterproof MPavilion, is a tribute for the late, great artist Bek Moore - organised by Chapter Music and led by her underground kiddie-punk band Clag. An assorted cast of past band members, friends and even some of Moore's musical idols rotate through the spot to take on her vocals and lyrics. As the show progresses, some even risk electrocution due to the rain. The atmosphere is far from a sad one and this is a beautiful display of community from the Melbourne and Brisbane music scenes who simply want to make you scream out and cry with joy at every appropriately loose song. It is a truly special afternoon that would make Moore proud.

Melbourne Town Hall opens its doors and its grand organ is the prettiest girl in the room; it's worth turning up early just to stare at the damn thing. Opening the night, My Disco show why earplugs are handed out upon entry. The band's music is high concept and quite easily comes off as convoluted and a little bloated when the production doesn't equal the aluminium-infused dreams of the band. In an environment such as this, the band thrive and deliver an interesting performance. There's a drum solo just shy of ten minutes (a good time to take a wee and not miss anything).

Hearing the brief sound check for the three-storey behemoth making up the back wall is just like dangling a carrot made of pure endorphins in front of us. Anticipation is, ahem, high. As the lights dim, The Drones emerge and look like they're about to go to war. While the beast lays dormant for the first portion of the set, the band start this career-spanning set guns blazin'. Private Execution, Taman Shud and Boredom from this year's opus Feelin' Kinda Free are executed with a purely frenetic, dark energy and instantly we see them at their best.

When keyboardist Steve Hesketh disappears from the stage before crowd favorite The Minotaur, we all know what's looming. I See Seaweed is the great organ's debut and the results are nothing short of fucking intense (!). The ground rumbles and the pressure wraps around your chest like an aural hug/heart attack as the track hits its dynamic peaks. A gobsmacking performance that feels like it could not be topped until the very next track when the ladies from Harmony appear for the first time tonight for a literally heartbreaking rendition of To Think That I Once Loved You. The emotion on Gareth Liddiard's face says it all as he passionately screams the chorus, narrowly avoiding an aneurysm.

Then They Came For Me sees the organ given a well-deserved breather as the track is lyrically altered to include Dr Strangelove-cum-president-elect Trump, who is naturally the butt end of the band's trademark humour. Having a bit of a rough show, Dan Luscombe experiences some serious gear malfunctions that reach their unfortunate peak during Shut Down SETI. The band seamlessly adapt without losing a whiff of momentum and when Luscombe is able to play again he is forgiven by the crowd who let out a supportive cheer.

Staples Shark Fin Blues and Six Ways To Sunday round out the set and when the band return for their expected encore, it is not what we expect. In an almost-too-stupidly perfect thing to do with a monster organ, a cover of (early) Pink Floyd classic Set The Controls For The Heart Of The Sun is absolutely creepy, alienating and weird. They end the set with another (heartfelt) cover of the late Leonard Cohen's 1971 track Diamonds In The Mine. As the lights come back on, we're all wide-eyed. What an incredible set! The only downside is that The Drones can't take that work of art of an organ on tour with them.