Australia’s Tropical Fuck Storm, Gareth Liddiard, Fiona Kitschin, Erica Dunn, and Lauren Hammel, cordially welcome you to TFS’ "Inflatable Graveyard", their debut live album. Released via the venerable Three Lobed Recordings, it captures their October 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 TFS’ "Inflatable Graveyard" a Greatest Hits album in the purest sense: their eldritch psychedelic ethos trapped on wax, raw and unfiltered.
From TFS’ 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 a feature film, "Goody Goody Gumdrops". Eventually, the world opened up again. And, new material and hand, so 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 TFS tour van—and is locked into place thirty 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.
