5 minutes before Nuta Mantis starts, I’m standing in the basement of the Chippo speaking to Sina, the president of SURG. I ask her to capture surgcore in three words. I got four: No more beer gardens. Cassidy, the treasurer, adds three more: No chill vibes. This is surgcore. This is student radio. This is post-hardcore.
Nuta Mantis, who travelled up from Canberra, come out to the stage bathed in sickly green light and a round of applause. They start with a song they finished the day before, called Runaway. It’s great. I’m standing at the back, looking past a crowd of people dancing, and staring into the bass drum, which has this silvery mirror-like coating over it. I can see the bodies of people and the Persian rugs that cover the floor reflected in it, and every time Bryce hits the pedal, they get swirled together, and the whole place feels so alive. They move through a few more songs, and I can’t really hear the words, but I don’t need to. The image of it all is enough.There is so much passion and emotion in the instruments, and the faces of the band. They play another song, and I don’t catch the name because I’m distracted by the hypnotic tessellating pattern on the sweater of the man in front of me. Anyway, by the time it’s over, three of the band members had taken their shirts off. Before they play their final song, Charli, the lead singer, speaks briefly; “I didn’t like who I am, I didn’t like who I was… you should do something with your life, you need to make something of your life.” This deeply resonates with me, and for a few moments I feel like I am surrounded by, or at least watching, a group of people who are making something of their lives right now. Every now and again during their set, I got the feeling that I was in some decade-old blurry recording of Title Fight performing to a tiny room filled with bodies. I just felt really lucky. Nuta Mantis were amazing.
Their set ends, and there is a break before the next band, Ape, starts. After a drink or two, I’m back in the basement, and they start after a 10-minute delay. From the first note, Ape is raw and charismatic. The frontman and lead singer, Tadgh, is the centre of it. He’s twitching, agitated, tearing at his shirt and his neck, falling up and into the mic stand, and the whole band is jumping around and contorting their expressions. Everyone is going Apeshit. There is so much energy and so much motion –– the lights are pulsing white to red and red to white, and the sharp shadows block out people’s features, leaving just movements. Two women are dancing wildly at the front, and during the first few songs, it felt like they were the soul of the whole room. Ape was wild, and the music was more intense and energetic than ever. A short break marks the middle of their set, and Tadgh says into the microphone, “one thing I love more than anything in the world is community radio”, and who doesn’t? Anything that leads to events like this is a good thing. People are here because they love music, and they love to dance, and they love each other. The final words before Ape starts to play again are “party people… our lens is opaque”. I tried to figure out what they meant, but after a few seconds they start a song called War on the Side of my Body, and I lose all thoughts whatsoever. I loved it. The crowd is throwing itself at the stage and at itself, and Tadgh is on stage, bent over, doubled up and screaming. A thick cloud pours from the smoke machines and is broken up by the movement of the crowd. Ape finishes their set, and the cheers are so fucking loud. I can’t wait to see them again.
Another break, another drink, and then Our Mutual Friend. The energy has died down, at least for now, and they start their set to swaying rather than moshing. A smaller band than the previous two, but they more than made up for it. The room was full, really full. They brought a huge crowd in, and despite all the people pressed against each other and the stage, you could still hear every part of every instrument, although the vocals could’ve been mixed better. Anyway, I was standing right by the speaker, and I could feel my whole body vibrating. It was great. Our Mutual Friend is post hardcore at its most devious, and by the end of their set, they had lost any sort of relaxed energy, and everyone started moving together again. Their set was great, but the night was cut slightly short due to a dislocated knee from a vigorous mosh in the final few songs.
I loved surgcore. I saw three great bands, saw some old friends and made some new ones, and it showed me that SURG is more than a temporary tattoo or a majestic horse shirt –– it’s alive and it’s independent, and it can organise a damn good gig. Down with beer gardens and chill vibes, and long live SURG.
