www.xpressmag.com.au/index.php/western-australian-made/local-cds/1453-zeks
www.spaceshipnews.com.au/review-zeks-ep-launch-the-bakery
www.lifeisnoise.com/2011/04/16/a-minute-with-zeks
www.soundofthestage.com/love-and-rage-a-look-at-zeks
www.coolperthnights.com/articles/music%20writer/483
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ZEKS EP REVIEW from Perth’s Xpress Street Magazine
ZEKS: [Z-K] Independent
It shouldn’t come as a massive surprise to anybody familiar with Zeks’ other projects that there is an all-pervading air of cerebral political subversion to the esoteric literary framework in which this record rests.
Fortunately, for the layman, the results sound so damn good that it matters not who Yukio Mishima was, just that the lush meandering riffs of the song that bear his name flow like water off a samurai’s back.
Indeed, the politics is, while ubiquitous, mostly subtle – although there are a few moments in Mickey where one is prone to think to oneself: “Oh… they’re not? Good lord, they did.” Anyway, while it’s important to be cognisant of this to really understand this record, it’s also possible to enjoy it simply as a delightfully weird chunk of edgy indie punk.
The five-piece band get plenty of bizarre sounds out of a pretty standard two guitars, bass, drums combo—but the addition of a violin has given them an unmistakable sound. They are a weird, intangible, almost contradictory enigma.
As a band Zeks are atmospheric, but [Z-K] never stops moving for a second. Totally worth your time.
_BEN WATSON
via: X-Press Magazine
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ZEKS EP LAUNCH REVIEW from Space Ship News
Friday 6th May 2011 – Review by DAVID SAYERS
The seeds of a spiritual revolution were planted in the Bakery on last Friday as ZEKS released their self-titled EP to a blissful crowd of ‘Zen Rock’ noviciates.
MITEYKO opened the proceedings with a smooth blend of cello, guitar and spoken word poetry that was perfectly suited to the relaxed atmosphere of the garden. The two-piece were in top form, with Allan Boyd’s poignant lyricism enveloped by the haunting emissions of Kevin Gillam.
Attendees floated towards the main stage as THE SILENT WORLD began a highly introspective performance, coloured with dynamic compositions and a quiet confidence. Three guitarists invoked a wealth of instrumental sounds with a little help from an eighties synthesizer, which the crowd simply lapped up.
BOYDGILLAMSCHNAARS darkened the mood with a more aggressive edge than previous acts. Dual poets snapped and spat, quoting bible phrases and confronting the audience with anger and frustration. Unfortunately, much of the improvised work fell flat as the group were slow to react to each others’ cues.
Despite some timidity at the start of the set, HAYLEY BETH absolutely nailed it, with an impressive vocal range, great projection and mesmerizing backing band. Guitarist Alex Hoult ruled the stage with gritty blues licks and skill full slides, while hairy, stoner fuzz bass brought in the big guns.
LEAP YEAR also suffered from some early jitters, but their presence grew over time. The songs were unassuming, dreamy indie-pop tunes that would provide a fitting soundtrack to a lazy autumn walk.
If there was an award for the Perth band that ‘brought the boogie’, SMRTS would be a top contender. Two drummers elicited beats that were thick and loud amongst the waves of delicious surf rock as the crowd bopped and jived from the first track to the last.
Headlining act, Zeks quickly launched into post-rock overdrive with spiralling arrangements, mantra-like vocals and a ferocious rhythm section. ‘Brother/Sister’ was soon offered to the masses as vocalist/bassist Ray Grenfell‘s impassioned cries shot down the microphone – backed by Eastern influenced phrases from violinist Hayley-Jane Ayres and droning riffs from guitarist Michael Gattinger. Heavy tones reverberated through the driving ‘Done’ as staccato instrumentation pushed the audience into rapturous movement before vocalist/guitarist Brian Green brought the band into a more vulnerable space with the reflective, ‘Mishima’. Drummer Katie Malajczuk pounded the skins with inhuman focus, while kaleidoscopic visuals plastered her shadow against the wall like a colossal deity. The band was visibly shaken as the set drew to a close. The sheer amount of energy expended in the ritual had been tremendous as the lights dawned on a packed house.
via: Space Ship News
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A Minute With ZEKS
16th April 2011 – Interview by Dave Cutbush
via: Life Is Noise
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ANTELOPE & ZEKS @ THE BIRD, SUNDAY SEPT 23 from Cool Perth Nights
25th September 2012 – Review by LYNDON BLUE
The jungle of steel and brick rises high and steadies itself. All around, lights of pearly white and brash colour cling like barnacles to thick, dark pillars with chilly, winking spires. On the ground, where gravity prevails, people are weaving, scurrying, lazing, smoking, eating, laughing, complaining, flirting. A bloated television sends a twitchy glow through an amphitheatre. A jazz band slaps and toots in a grotto. I slip through, hunter’s hat askew, stalking something new.
I’m endlessly fond of this town, its streets, people, bands, eateries, grassy knolls, spritely birds, flowery hillside nooks. Yet for all its merits (not to mention its sprawl) the city remains small: tight-knit, incestuous, sometimes parochial. With few places to play and a non-abundance of heads devoted to any one weird pursuit, the same faces appear in the same places, week to week. This is no real predicament: familiarity becomes a home-town. Still, it does make discovering totally unfamiliar local soundmakers a rarity, compared to larger, denser metropolises where multiple scenes sprout and develop in discrete pockets.
Thus: my excitement upon encountering Perth musical acts for the first time. Acts I’ve not seen or even really heard – not because I’ve been disinterested, but because fate has hitherto opted to keep us apart. And now I ply the savanna, my boots kicking dust into the night’s first moonbeams, my goal in the middle-distance. “Ave!” bellows the feathery head, its beak opening wide, beckoning. I tumble in. Pronged horns float through the dark. I strike a match and follow.
Here is ANTELOPE, five legs moving swiftly and efficiently in tandem, or else, decisive counterpoint. Its overall gait mechanical and crisp, almost robotic, with every step carefully measured and placed; the precision, meanwhile, is dressed in a faint haze, a never overwhelming glow (the sort that flanks a candle’s flame, or spills through a cinema). As I near the beast, the cogs and pistons each take corporeal form: surprisingly, young men, clutching guitars, drum sticks, a sampler-box. No-one sings, but occasionally there is an uncharacteristically brusque burst of speech: “We’re Antelope, how the fuck are ya?”
Like most post-rock and math-rock bands, Antelope aren’t really a post-rock or math-rock band. They’re shooting for neither the atmospheric, quasi-orchestral style of the most assuredly “post” outfits, nor the neuron-slapping complexity and rhythmic volatility of those who warrant the “math” prefix. There are moments that err towards each, certainly; generally, though, this is an instrumental rock band that’s rooted in agile, taut and terse drumming, upon which “angular” guitar and bass formations are layered. Melodically, some tunes fall victim to a certain blandness, but towards the end of the set the whole game is lifted: focused riffs, muscular jigsaw rhythms, fierce dynamics. ANTELOPE are already great, and with time they will be awe-inspiring.
Further down the bird-gullet is a whirl of horse’s hair, venom and smoke. Distorted steel-string spikes clip along over tight, stark, protean beats. A violin bow chugs zealously. Lyrics are alternately barked, howled and coldly intoned. The aggregate grooves are heavy, but buoyant, and expertly delivered. This is ZEKS.
Zeks are clearly a punk band, in the true sense of the word. Sound-aesthetic aside, (it’s seething, but more “art rock” than “three-chord snot”) they make no secrets of their distaste for on-stage propriety, or of their political inclinations. Amid sticker slogans bluntly decrying capitalism and tattoos bemoaning cops come (generally) more nuanced lyrics; ones that vehemently recount and rail against injustices and corruptions. The themes (whether you subscribe to Zeks’ political angles or not) lend a sense of gravitas and urgency to the already arresting arrangements, which are brilliantly underpinned and driven by the immense drum-work of Katie Malajczuk. The admixture of intricate rhythm changes, heavy guitars and bleak vocals recalls early My Disco, or The Nation Blue; with the addition of violin, Baseball comes to mind. Ultimately, though, Zeks have forged quite a special little sonic niche for themselves – one that’s rich enough to keep quality songs flowing for a while yet, I’d venture. The flurry ends with a disco-punk throb, invoking hip and knee spasms throughout the room: appreciation relayed physically.
Back in dark damp world, the lingering echoes die away, traded for the squeak and sigh of train hydraulics. If tonight has a lesson, it’s to leave no stone unturned – so often, it seems, does a gem lay in wait underneath.