Alex Cameron. Following Jumping the Shark The Killers’ Brandon Flowers has all but adopted him. He’s been accused of hiding behind irony and privilege. Equally he’s hailed as a genius. A chequered figure.
Taking to The Foundry’s stage one thing is unequivocal. His star is on the rise. BUT HOW TO FIGURE THIS MAN OUT?
Reading a quote from David Bowie in an old issue of Guitar Player the penny dropped. Bowie talked about distance. Give listeners too much of yourself he reasoned, and they freak out. It’s all about exaggeration, gesture. The creation of a distance between song and self. A space for others to project meaning.
With this circling around the head levying accusations of villainy upon Cameron doesn’t seem just. He’s not singing from the heart. There’s likely a lot that sinks through subconsciously. But throw that aside for future reference. Cameron inhabits characters. Sometimes – most of the time - they’re contemptible. Take ‘StudMuffin96’ and ‘Happy Ending’ as examples. His words paint crooked portraits. Not of anti-heroes, but of mongrel dogs.
All his personae come unified by a single fact. They’re failures. Floating in a world of damaged sleaze and carnal desire. Alex is oblique. But like any great artist he throws the questions out there.
But when he shimmies across stage lofty considerations fall away. He’s in the moment. This is a performer. The band swing as he casts a dark seduction. The cramped venue (sold out) proves the perfect medium. ‘Studmuffin96’ opens. Cheers. Slick.
“I made a deal over lunch baby.” Alex puts it across. “Yeah, it was worth 15k!” The capacity crowd stands transfixed. Say what you will, he’s a peerless performer.
Dialling back. Body Type open. The Sydney four-piece strikes an immediate presence. Playing with flair and conviction they demand attention. ‘Arrow’ is their latest but they close with ‘Silver’.
Review by Riley Fitzgerald