THE EDITED PRESS RELEASE: “Australia’s Tropical Fuck Storm — Gareth Liddiard, Fiona Kitschin, Erica Dunn and Lauren Hammel — cordially welcome you to Inflatable Graveyard, their debut live album. It captures their Oct. 22, 2022 show at Chicago’s Lincoln Hall, at the peak of their Fuck the Rain Away tour.
The performance, which spans 11 songs and over an hour of music, contains highlights from their three studio albums (2018’s A Laughing Death in Meatspace, 2019’s Braindrops, and 2021’s Deep States), accompanied by a pair of covers (Ann by The Stooges and Stayin’ Alive by The Bee Gees). Consider Inflatable Graveyard a greatest-hits album in the purest sense: Their eldritch psychedelic ethos trapped on wax, raw and unfiltered.
From their perspective, Fuck the Rain Away was no mere rescheduled trek, but a full-blown revenge tour; the pandemic hit right as they were gearing up to play these very shows, effectively exiling them for the next two years. They bided their time at home — dropping an LP Deep States (plus a handful of EPs and singles); hitting the studio with King Gizzard And The Wizard Lizard; and even releasing the film Goody Goody Gumdrops. Eventually, the world opened up again. And, new material in hand, the quartet made their move.
The release of TFS’ pent-up creative energy, when combined with the crowd’s fervor and anticipation — they’d been waiting an equally long-ass time, after all — results in an explosive feedback loop unlike anything the band have captured on record thus far. It’s a kind of chemical reaction, a persistent euphoria that starts up the minute they take the stage to Men’s Only Costume Party — a bright, somewhat bizarre reggae track one of their friends cooked up in the tour van — and is locked into place 30 seconds or so later, with the scorching opening measures of Braindrops.
Excitement leads to spontaneity, and before long, fan favorites are assuming remarkable new forms at staggering scale. If you thought the Zappa-esque tantrums on You Let My Tyres Down and Chameleon Paint sounded unhinged before, wait until you encounter them here; ditto for the subtle dynamic tweaks to Paradise and Antimatter Animals, all hypnotic effects and rhythmic mind games.
TFS save their best, of course, for the encore: A one-two punch that affirms their status as one of experimental rock’s pre-eminent supergroups, while simultaneously setting the stage for the foursome’s next chapter. Following a soaring, expanded take on Two Afternoons, the band launch into what is perhaps their most ebullient song to date: A cover of Stayin’ Alive featuring Dunn on lead vocals, which galvanizes the catharsis of the preceding 10 songs into a hallucinogenic fever dream that’s equally conducive to moshing and making out. In the wake of Kitschin’s successful fight against cancer (a battle that started several months after this recording), that iconic chorus feels not just impactful, but premonitory. Pandemics, illness, a world on fire, political unrest: Tropical Fuck Storm might be temporarily halted now and again, but in the end, their drive makes them unstoppable.”
