Colle At The Vanguard: A Platform for Sydney’s Electronic Underground to Shine

At the conclusion of her thirty-minute set at the Vanguard Theatre on June 4, New York dream-pop artist Maya McGrory, AKA Colle, left her fans baffled. “Is there more coming?” asked a man standing beside me. We waited – quietly hopeful – but as the thick smoke dissipated and the house lights rose, it soon became clear there was not.

The unprecedented brevity of this performance caused murmurs of dissatisfaction to circle through the audience. Most had only arrived to see the headline act, and the journey through the cold for only a brief thirty minutes of music did not seem worth it.

Yet, in this respect, many had missed the point of the evening.

McGrory’s performance had been less a headline, and more a conclusion. Before her arrival on stage, five local acts had already performed their own thirty-minute sets. Selected by the hosts of fbi.radio’s Deep Web program, each of these artists existed within the swelling pool of electronic musicians in Sydney. And while they all in some manner resembled the coming headliner’s dreamy trip-hop sound, none were identical in how they did so.

Unfortunately, having arrived forty-five minutes into the event, I missed the debut of trip-hop artist Stella Ye and instead stumbled into the exploratory sound of String Club. Described on their Bandcamp as ‘improvisational friendship’, nothing could better capture the dynamic of these three musicians.

Standing around a table centre stage, Astrid Bell and Kata Szasz smiled and giggled as they experimented with a range of instruments. Bass, pan flute, feedback from a karaoke microphone. All flickered over the gentle wash of David Suyasa’s fuzzy drum loops. Then, once a rhythm formed, Bell would stretch slow, repetitive lyrics to sink into the beat. Slowly, the audience were lulled into a joyful, calm contentment. Then, as the trio were replaced by the flamboyant, ecstatic energy of solo artist Riki Twinkle Wells, this contentment was rapidly broken.

In complete contrast to the free playfulness of String Club, Wells treated the small theatre as if a stadium. “Can I get it louder please?” she asked the sound desk as deep electronic drones bloomed from her backing track. “Like, much louder.” Her confidence on stage was impressive, and the meticulously designed hyper-pop a pleasure to move to. Arms floated behind vibrating autotuned lyrics, and the performer often lost herself to her music. Then, invariably between songs she would pull herself again into the room to try to hype up the thin crowd before her. Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tried, few seemed to give in to the temptation of dance.

Mona Mule – taking the stage from Wells – continued the hyper-pop theme, yet in a far more experimental, jarring manner. Despite being steeped in electronica, the chaotic backing track and the performer’s discordant vocals were more reminiscent of a 1970s fringe post-punk act. Where Wells had asked us to dance, Mona Mule’s dark, grating music challenged us to listen.

Many turned away. But those who stayed were treated to a performance impressively experimental.

Finally, the last act before the headline, DJ now turned live performer Genie treated us to a collage of seductive trip-hop. Beginning by pushing herself into an oboe, she walked around a table filled with wires and pedals, her laptop squeezing a metallic noise spinning into the room. Then, placing the oboe down and leaning over the laptop, for the rest of her set she constructed evolving dancing soundscapes while tentatively placing ethereal vocals through the mix. In a brilliant conclusion to the run of supports, the artist finished her set by entering the audience, and over a slow euphoric beat spreading long, repeated reverbed lyrics into her microphone.

Throughout this exhibition of local electronica, what became interesting was how few had come to see Colle. Often audience members would arrive for a support, stay for the beginning of the next, then leave.

Therefore, by the time McGrory arrived on stage and her fans flooded the theatre, very few were aware of what had occurred before.

Granted, her performance was beautiful. Playing with violinist Zachary Paul (who plays beside her in dream-pop three-piece Chanel Beads), her long autotuned lyrics melted seamlessly into his shimmering clouds of floating strings. Occasionally she would drop delayed guitar into the songs, though most of the swelling music came from a synth-heavy backing track. It was graceful music, expertly realised. Though ultimately, a full-stop.

Despite being billed as a headliner, and drawing the largest crowd of the night, McGrory’s performance was simply a reason to give a diverse range of local performers a chance to play.

And in a time when these artists need as much exposure as possible, to have an international headliner providing such a platform is something that should be applauded.