Saturday night = dancing. Especially when it’s a whole night of the amazing music from the Woohoo Revue supported by the equally great Willie Wagtails and Galata Express – brass, babes, and big bold Balkan tunes (with a hint of lots of other places, but they don’t work into my alliterative goals).
At the Brunswick Music Festival gig, Galata Express played their way through a set that had our hips moving whether we intended it or not; after a whole week of folk gigs (which are kinda hard to dance to), the Turkish tunes took over our bodies and we let them – it was the perfect prelude to the more hardcore control over our limbs and extremities taken by Woohoo themselves. Galata’s pinnacle was a ‘song about sex’ in another language that we were assured we’d be able to get the gist of. You don’t need to be multilingual or understand the lyrics when the musicians are somehow making every note suggestive. A few people near me started making out furiously, so for all we know there may be a child appearing in nine months named Galata…
I’ve heard of the Woohoo Revue nonstop since moving to Melbourne four years ago, and met many past members, but until now I hadn’t seen them live. Damn, I’ve missed out. Stepping onto stage in a combination of sequined bikinis, three-piece suits, and y-front underwear with bathrobes (not all on one band member), the Revue were definitely The Main Event of the evening. We were slightly smart-assed at the beginning, laughing at the partial nudity that must have been a great idea in the 30 degrees of two days earlier but not so much in Melbourne’s new cold… and then we started dancing. Then got really damn hot very quickly. Suddenly, the Revue were geniuses.
A nice range of old and new tunes, some about to be recorded and shared with the world (#exclusive), the night became a blur of horns, drums, bass and, of course, a clarinet. Each song flowed, and I don’t think I spotted a single person doing that awkward bopping-in-one-spot-and-clutching-a-drink thing that is so popular at most live gigs in Melbourne. Although I wasn’t really looking too hard. I was too busy dancing myself.
We left sweaty and happy and full of all those good music endorphins – which is really all you want from a night.