The Peep Tempel are consolidating a wave. It’s a wave that swelled triumphantly with the release of their second album, Tales: a snotty collection of urban and suburban hymns that yielded the ridiculously infectious APRA-award-nominated single ‘Carol’ and the equally delirious paean to petty organised crime ‘Big Fish’. Touring in support of follow-up LP Joy, they’re here at the refurbished Lansdowne Hotel.
Mezko are drowned by a twin Apple backing track and Sloane Peterson impress as being much more than a throwaway reference; but it’s The Peep Tempel we’re here to bop for. While Sloane Peterson literally threw daisies, Peep Tempel came packed with a whipper snipper.
Joy’s most immediate blow to the kidneys is raucous lead single ‘Rayguns’, which positively blisters tonight, with the “all on ice” refrain inspiring conspicuous amounts of air punching.
Whilst on record the band’s chaos is curtailed by tape, it bursts at the seams live, spilling sweat and profanity. The intensity on offer is never po-faced, though: these guys are pisstakers par excellence, with every sardonic expletive spat through a wry smile.
While Sloane Peterson literally threw daisies, Peep Tempel came packed with a whipper snipper.
And despite the sheer amount of flexing going on, they make it look effortless (in a perspiration drenched kinda way). You’d be forgiven for missing it amidst all the bombast, but the band’s secret weapon is that their lyrics are pure poetry, and not in the foppish, puffy-sleeved fashion. These are perfect little vignettes of suburban life, perhaps best employed in the sinister soliloquy that is ‘Constable’, which provides room to breathe amidst the pace and buzz of the set – even if the vocals are drowned out by an insistent kickdrum that works like a heavyweight going to town on our solar plexus.
These are stories, and they’re stories told in a way that could only ever emerge from Australia; married to a biting mockney/working class rural drawl that lends authenticity even as it heightens reality to a state of caricature.
Whilst on record the band’s chaos is curtailed by tape, it bursts at the seams live, spilling sweat and profanity.
And did I mention swagger? Yeah, they swagger. There’s groove in their grooves. Anchored by bass, the guitars flitter about all caustic, like a scouring pad that dirties instead of cleaning.
The last third of the set sees the first third of the audience pole vault to pogo. This is how our city used to sway. Welcome back, Lansdowne. Welcome back, Peep Tempel.
Peep Tempel were reviewed at The Lansdowne Hotel on Friday June 30.
