Reviewed onWednesday January 25 (photo by Ashley Mar)
It may not have been open for long, but the International Convention Centre’s Darling Harbour Theatre has now hosted the strangest gig it may ever witness.
Puscifer, the side project of Tool frontman Maynard James Keenan, are an outside bet at the best of times, but sirens must have gone off for organisers when they announced their support act as Luchafer – not a band, but a brightly costumed, five-strong lucha libre wrestling troupe.
And so the steady stream of gothed-up, piercing-ridden Tool fans arriving at Sydney’s newest, most expensive venue found themselves greeted by five lycra-clad fighters theatrically beating the crap out of each other.
Once Maynard and his cohort took to the stage, the strange did not let up. Projections divided the gig into four acts, between which Luchafer returned to punch on again as the band sat and watched. Meanwhile, video projections brought a wide range of Keenan’s characters to the space, completely incomprehensible to all but the most dedicated Puscifer fans.
Puscifer may be a bizarre stream-of-consciousness outlet for Keenan, but their musical prowess elevates them to a whole new level. Enough has been written about Keenan’s blessed pipes; more need be said of Carina Round, his multi-instrumentalist female counterpart. Striking sharp poses and singing like a goddess, she proved powerfully magnetic, especially in her sultry rendition of Puscifer classic ‘Rev 22:20’.
Keenan, bearing a mask falling somewhere between Luchafer and Slipknot, kept to the darkness at first, but surprisingly emerged to banter between tracks and set up a mechanical cockfight (not kidding). “Stay in your allotted seating area, by all means,” he crowed, “let the 52-year-old do all the dancing, sure.”
Behind him, the rhythm section of Paul Barker (ex-Ministry) and Jeff Friedl kept it tight and grooving, while Mahsa Zargaran provided sumptuous backing vox and Mat Mitchell shredded heaven and earth with his guitar virtuosity.
It was Act Four that really got the crowd moving, with ‘Conditions Of My Parole’ and ‘Man Overboard’ bringing everyone to their feet. As Round ran like a lunatic around stage, arms flailing, it became clear that taking Puscifer seriously has never been something they encouraged.
Their abstractions are forced, even naff, and they know it. Automatic thought shouldn’t make sense, and Puscifer sure as hell don’t, but sense has never been a prerequisite for rock.
