The Breeders

The Breeders on record are exquisite. Not perfect, but perfectly imperfect. Nothing sounds inevitable even though the songs aren't particularly radical (although some are). Each sound somehow carries with it the sense that the person making it was aware of their freedom to do whatever they wanted and chose to do exactly that, neither in deference to tradition nor against it but simply because that was the sound they wanted. You get the feeling the Breeders could play "Mary Had A Little Lamb" and make it sound new. They came close by being one of the few bands to cover the Beatles successfully ("Happiness is A Warm Gun") and a few of their own songs resemble nursery rhymes. It's like Louis Armstrong's ability to play a three note melody and make it swing like a one-tonne wrecking ball. If we could break it down, which I'd rather not do anyway, I think it would be a matter of milliseconds. "Feel", they used to call it. No wonder Kim Deal invented All Wave.

Kim told Kingsmill on the J-Files a few years back about one of her scattered studio sessions in the years leading up to comeback album Title TK. She was trying to record a bass part with a flam, which means playing the note just after the kick drum so it says "flam". However, when the engineer played it back there was no flam. The kick and bass hit precisely together. The engineer probably thought it sounded punchy but Kim grew increasingly frustrated, eventually realising that the studio's software was "correcting" her playing. This incident and others like it led Kim to issue a fatwa against digital and pledge allegiance to what she named All Wave, meaning all analogue. Digital means on and off. Zoom in enough and you see (or hear) pixels. Analogue - that's tape - is a continuous wave that doesn't lie. Calloused fingertips, a catch in the throat, a rusty hi-hat. Grey areas. Feel.

Breeders bass player Mando Lopez recently told Timeoff of how the band tried each song in different styles before settling on the versions to be recorded and of his amazement at watching the Deal sisters spend three days mastering just one of those songs. This wouldn't be strange at all for some bands - say, Radiohead - but Lopez's reaction probably had something to do with the disjuncture between the painstaking effort being taken and the two-minute, three-chord, nonsense-lyriced result. This only shows the Breeders' awareness of the freedom they, like any artist, have; as in, they could still be rearranging and rerecording "Cannonball" in infinite permutations. Their genius lies not just in the choices to which they commit (as in, "let's play an E then a D") but also in their ability to somehow make this process audible. By subtracting elements, making split seconds matter and embracing imperfections they send a wink down the tape and remind us that nothing is inevitable.

What we end up with is strangely familiar, like an x-ray of your own skeleton. Brutally beautiful, like one of those preserved bodies with the skin taken off. Tender like a kiss and like a bruise. Perfectly imperfect.

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Live, they're a different proposition. They're less dynamic. You don't feel like Kim and Kelly's lips are a hair's breadth from your respective earlobes. The drummer speeds up and plays loud. The mystery and preciousness of a 4AD record cover is replaced by odd, grinning people in tracksuits saying "what?" and shifting from foot to foot. It's less Pixies and more Guided By Voices - a sense of your favourite band playing your favourite songs in your loungeroom while you're too drunk to be surprised. In short, damn good fun.

Gaslight Radio's billing as support band for the Zoo on August 4th was welcome proof of their continued existence but on the night they are contrary in almost every way possible. Making it clear they are writing a setlist on the fly they eschew the hits (except maybe "Tina From Robina" and "The Jewel and the Falcon" [If that was the first song?]) and accompany their guitar tuning with an equal number of thinly-veiled disses ("Monday night in Brisbane, woo!") and complete non-sequiturs ("Are we on Adelaide time?"; "Which hospital were you born in?"). But whatever's eating them hasn't got inside the music, which they savour as if it's their one respite, caressing guitars and sharing smiles when their eyes aren't closed. Gaslight Radio aren't frugal with romantic melodies and crescendoes and it's easy to let them wash past but pummeling closer "The Razor's Edge" demands attention and bodes well for the future. They continue to name songs after coastal towns, my favourite of the night being "I Don't Wanna Go Back to Kempsey".

There's a pinch-yourself feeling when the Breeders set up several metres away and launch into Brisbane favourite (thanks Butcher Birds) "Tipp City" - the first of three Amps songs - especially after a weekend of watching OK bands on huge stages from squinting distance. The Deal sisters' complete lack of pretence only makes them seem more wonderfully eccentric and they endear themselves to the varied crowd effortlessly. In fact, the atmosphere is so casual I somehow don't mind the chatter emanating from the bar. It's with this playful attitude that the Breeders dip into all of their albums, with only Title TK seeming to get short shrift (forgiveable for those who saw them last time around). The still-new Mountain Battles songs are my favourites, particularly those sung by Kelly, who is tonight's crowd favourite for her willingness to have a crack at violin ("Drivin' on 9") and Mariachi Spanish (the should-be-(already-is?)-classic "Regalame Esta Noche"). Unfortunately we don't get the twin-tongue-twisting "German Studies" but most of the other newies get played. I still can't tap my foot to "Overglazed" but I like it. The hits from Last Splash are refreshingly loud by comparison; "Cannonball" hasn't hit this hard in years. "Happiness is A Warm Gun" stops breaths. "Iris" and "Safari" are weird and feel natural: the Breeders' magic in a nutshell.

(Fasterlouder.com have a detailed review and pictures. I'm surprised there aren't any of me because I copped that flash in the face a few times.)