It’s with a miniature hint of guilt that 123 Amazing are the first band to face our wrath. But then, this is the gig that inspired the creation of HITZ and all that shall follow. I am hereby numb inside and have little qualms.
“Flabbergasted” could be the word to describe my feelings as I left Spectrum after enduring such a mind-blowing display of the banal, untalented, relentless conglomerate that is 123 AMAZING. A four-piece band, three girls up front, a boy on drums, playing post-punk-electro-degenerate-disco… does it sound familiar? One would think that the squeals and squawks of local competitors Teenagers in Tokyo, Bright Red and others would have switched off the desire for their re-incarnation in the mind of anyone claiming to be a sane musician. But no, here it is again: 123 AMAZING.
The edge 123 Amazing claim over those aforementioned bands is that they have two singers. Funnily enough they both have exactly the same voice; that full throat, out of tune female yelp that not-so-gracefully slips around the very limited melodies. They employ the Veruca Salt inspired trick of sliding up to notes, and then sliding down at the end of phrases. But while Veruca Salt’s vocals suggest character, these youngsters’ insist incompetence. My face winced in a knee-jerk reaction whenever they would nervously lift their eyes (which were otherwise locked down on their fretboards) to sing a passage. The double-whammy occurred when they were both singing simultaneously either as call-and-response or in what I could only assume was an attempt at harmony – well it sounded like a flock of Dee Why seagulls trying to steal my hot chips.
I fought through this barrage of vocals to regrettably observe the rest of the band. The monotone guitars pluckity plucked on forgettable yet entire recognizable licks (think The Rapture, 6 years ago… who else?). The keyboard moaned with sounds and melodies that were so predictably fashionable it would make board members of Mambo cringe in embarrassment. And the drums - well I did kinda feel for the dude because the spectrum of music the songwriters were offering didn’t warrant much alternative to the ever faithful “gnnn-ssst-gnnn-sst”. That said his attempts to break out of this typical formation were laughable, especially on several occasions when the beats became so superfluously intricate that he lost time, did an air-swing and pulled a self-loathsome face. And then his crash cymbal fell off and rolled to the ground, marking the most enjoyable part of the set for this ol' reviewer.
To sum, I wrote new song for 123 Amazing, to be sung on one note, shouty and out of tune, to a back-drop of crappy “hurt-disco”:
Woooo. Yeah. WooooooOOOooooOOOoooooOOOooo.
Clap…clap...caaalap.
1...2...3...AMAZING (screamed)
We’re amazingly crap.
“Flabbergasted” could be the word to describe my feelings as I left Spectrum after enduring such a mind-blowing display of the banal, untalented, relentless conglomerate that is 123 AMAZING. A four-piece band, three girls up front, a boy on drums, playing post-punk-electro-degenerate-disco… does it sound familiar? One would think that the squeals and squawks of local competitors Teenagers in Tokyo, Bright Red and others would have switched off the desire for their re-incarnation in the mind of anyone claiming to be a sane musician. But no, here it is again: 123 AMAZING.
The edge 123 Amazing claim over those aforementioned bands is that they have two singers. Funnily enough they both have exactly the same voice; that full throat, out of tune female yelp that not-so-gracefully slips around the very limited melodies. They employ the Veruca Salt inspired trick of sliding up to notes, and then sliding down at the end of phrases. But while Veruca Salt’s vocals suggest character, these youngsters’ insist incompetence. My face winced in a knee-jerk reaction whenever they would nervously lift their eyes (which were otherwise locked down on their fretboards) to sing a passage. The double-whammy occurred when they were both singing simultaneously either as call-and-response or in what I could only assume was an attempt at harmony – well it sounded like a flock of Dee Why seagulls trying to steal my hot chips.
I fought through this barrage of vocals to regrettably observe the rest of the band. The monotone guitars pluckity plucked on forgettable yet entire recognizable licks (think The Rapture, 6 years ago… who else?). The keyboard moaned with sounds and melodies that were so predictably fashionable it would make board members of Mambo cringe in embarrassment. And the drums - well I did kinda feel for the dude because the spectrum of music the songwriters were offering didn’t warrant much alternative to the ever faithful “gnnn-ssst-gnnn-sst”. That said his attempts to break out of this typical formation were laughable, especially on several occasions when the beats became so superfluously intricate that he lost time, did an air-swing and pulled a self-loathsome face. And then his crash cymbal fell off and rolled to the ground, marking the most enjoyable part of the set for this ol' reviewer.
To sum, I wrote new song for 123 Amazing, to be sung on one note, shouty and out of tune, to a back-drop of crappy “hurt-disco”:
Woooo. Yeah. WooooooOOOooooOOOoooooOOOooo.
Clap…clap...caaalap.
1...2...3...AMAZING (screamed)
We’re amazingly crap.
(Guitar solo: di di di dididi di di dididi)
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