Thank You Public Service Broadcasting For The Trip Back In Time

Public Service Broadcasting gave us a little reminder of who really runs the world, and why. The band consists of J. Wilgoose, Esq. apparently running the show, Wrigglesworth on the drums, and relatively new J.F. Abraham on the flugelhorn and bass. And on the screen, I’m pretty sure I saw my grandad, but so did everyone else.

 So, when I got there, I wasn’t expecting what I saw. A kind of Dinosaur Jr., Smashing Pumpkinskind of feel, with really great vocals. It gave me the jam band feel of Lotus, while rocking the wah wah pedal by hand, and making me wonder if there might be a keyboard hidden up there somewhere. Jamie and Maurice came together for this, and I would like to see more. This was Dual, apparently straight outta Auckland, and I would have gone to see them on their own, not just as an opening act. That being said, they were the perfect opener for what turned out to be a great piece of work that really brought it home for the audio-visual nerds.

 Public Service Broadcastingstarted out bringing us through the coal mines of South Wales with some intense rhythm and an ethereal vocal track coming from what felt like Wrigglesworth’s imagination and what I now suspect was either Tracyanne Cambellfrom Camera Obscura, or the ladies of Haiku Salut; neither were there to comment further.

 PSB rocks the AV world with its sample-able style—who could not make their set sound a bit sweeter and more intelligent with Inform, Educate, Entertain…? Instead of lyrics, these guys have uber-browsed the libraries of Wales and the rest of the UK to give you postmodern thoughts on early 20th century problems. One thinks of both the sweatshop mentality and the over-sexualization of women when they drop the ‘lyrics’: “What to wear? Flags and shirt…”  Or the “Letters for the Rich, Letters for the Poor”regarding British transportation and, once again, the working man.

 Wrigglesworth really held the band together with his tight, burning, percussion. The women’s movement was apparently covered by the song They Gave Me a Lamp, which actually appeared to be more about the coal business and striking, but, whatever. Even as an intensely listening feminist, I didn’t catch everything, especially when the ladies were speaking in a Welsh accent. I applaud these gentlemen for working the issue.

 PSB really brought the crowd up when they got into the Race For Space, bringing us into the later 20th century with Go, Gagarin, and Spitfire. I’m not sure if this was part of their thought process, but the recent foray into satellite tech by NZ was reflected in the awe and ecstasy of tiny faces watching the rockets take off. I found myself simultaneously proud and over it with the space junk. PSB only gave the best of it to revel in, though. Retro? GO!

I’ve read that the bass player, J.F. Abraham, was a new addition to this band. I could not think of what it would have been like before him; he absolutely tied the trio together and had the stage presence to actually bring fans into the show. I’m not sure anyone would have done more than bob a head without his influence.

 The funky direction was quite welcomed; PSB had a tendency to feel like it’s about to be a jam band and get a bit didactic on the way. They possessed a sense of humour that surpasses their didacticism, and the unassuming bowtie boy comes off less like the newly collegiate guy who must point at everything and tell you his thoughts, and more like the professor you didn’t mean to fall in love with.

 Diana Phillips

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