Austin's The Black Angels, THE tambourine man Joel Gion of The Brian Jonestown Masssacre and one of the best bands to come out of Sydney, The Laurels all on the one night, in the same place, playing together - this photographers idea of paradise.

The first time I experienced The Laurels was in a dive of a joint in Coolangatta. They were playing support for a band they completely over-shadowed (this may explain why I have no idea who they were supporting). I remember walking away that night with a 'glass half full' approach regarding quality local music - it was still alive, in The Laurels.

It was this fond memory that had me arriving right when doors were opening at Brisbane's concrete Hi-Fi. It was these concrete walls that hardened The Laurels ordinarily fuzzy sound. One of the guitarists was having an on-going technical problem and ended the set throwing and kicking a seemingly new guitar. Despite the obvious problem, the experience gained from years of touring was evident, with the band seeming to be otherwise un-fazed, continuing to play without a gliche.

I shouldn’t have been suprised that I hadn’t even noticed Joel Gion arrive for his DJ Set. Standing in the corner of the stage, very casually, armed with only his most impeccable records and a beer was the man himself. More like an intimate gathering of friends than a ‘DJ set’, we were privy to some pretty exceptional ‘B Sides’ including ‘Wonderwall Music’ by George Harrison. Casually flicking through his record collection, not really giving a shit whether the crowd dug it or not, Joel comforted himself with what was obviously some of his oldest friends. His set inspired this young photographer to go home and dig - no pun intended.

To say I was excited about finally seeing The Black Angels would be an understatement - scheduled surgery was postponed once I realised dates would clash. I had heard these guys were touring machines and were a power to be reckoned with in regard to live performances. In fact, they managed to suck me so far into the vortex that is The Black Angels that I unintentionally stayed in the pit for the first half of the set.

I re-joined the rough black sea that was the crowd as Joel Gion appeared on stage with his tambourine, adding his spark and energy seemlessly. By me saying nothing about this band I am saying everything. Take this as you will, but each of the individual musicians and their instruments disappeared, merging into the one collective sound of The Black Angels for 3 hours - something that I believe has near vanished from contemporary music.

It was this strength that glazed over the eyes of the crowd, took them by the hand and guided them through a potentionally nasty trip, to be gently placed in the same location as we started, but with that feeling we had the answer - we just weren’t completely sure as to what the question was. I have no doubt The Black Angels knew.