Iceage @ Oxford Art Factory

The Iceage frontman, Elias Rønnenfelt, seems intent on provoking a response from his audience. He smacks a phone out of a punter’s hand, collapses to the floor on a whim, and hurls a bottle of beer into the crowd. On paper it sounds like an excellent display of punk theatrics, but in person it just starts to feel staged. The band tries to channel its post-punk predecessors, emulating shock tactics and moody deliveries, however a lack of genuine passion proves that manner does not maketh the band.

Before Iceage arrive, we are treated to a sonorous performance by M.O.B. Filled with mournful keys and a harsh scraping violin, it sounds like noise-rock from the crypt. The Sydney-based band elicits cheers from an enthusiastic crowd as it layers dissonant notes over a MPC drum beat.

In contrast to the mechanical steadiness of that drum machine, Dead Farmers blast off their set with characteristic gusto. When they’re not bellowing lyrics at us with the enthusiasm of football hooligans they rock around stage banging heads and working plenty of feedback into their wailing guitar solos. Amid the crashing cymbals of the drums, the whole band’s energy is infectious and compelling.

Rønnenfelt walks on with Iceage and thrusts himself over the audience, gripping the mic stand for support as he warbles lyrics. His voice sucks but he makes up for it by grabbing the audience’s attention with his showmanship. As the concert wears on though, Ronnenfelt’s zeal wanes to match the crowd’s. He becomes disinterested, making the jerkiness of his movements hollow and formulaic. The outbursts of violence begin to seem petulant rather than punk rock.

There is a lot that works for Iceage. Dan Nielsen’s military-style drumming complements the walking basslines of Jakob Pless. When Nielsen shifts into a rapid breakdown the change-up is invigorating, and gets the audience moving. Unfortunately, the rudimentary chords by Johan Wieth, who is more at home playing rhythm guitar than lead, clutter the songs without providing an interesting focus.

It results in competent but not engaging post-punk that merges with country to give it some kind of pace. Maybe their apathy is a reflection of the genre’s nihilism, but it seems like Iceage just don’t give a damn about what they’re playing.