It’s hot in the city, hot in the city tonight. And it’s gonna get hotter. Hotter than a match head. As punk as. Raw as guts, loud as buggery and filthy as all f*@k. Just the way punk rock oughta be.
Byron boys FEELING DAVE kick things off and get us all worked up and lathered. The first time I saw these guys, maybe three or four years ago, they were a two-piece; Dave on drums and Phil on G-tar. It was at the Northern in Byron and they were pretty damn loud and messy. They were promptly kicked out as soon as they finished their set. Yep, if you haven’t been unceremoniously booted from the Northern, then what the bloody hell have you been up to? Or not up to? It’s almost a rite-of-passage. It’s only happened to me once – so far – and I probably deserved it. I was having way too much fun. And there may have been a Dandy Warhol involved. There’s a story to that.
Bassist Travis, aka Milky, has joined the fray. They bash the be-jesus out of an impressive seventeen tracks, including Strange, Hung Out, Bush Turkey, Guttermouth, and Creatures. Sick. Yeah that’s the name of another song. And it is a pretty “sick’ set to get us all lubed and loose to. Young Marcus from ‘Gong band White Blanks was having a blast throwing himself in to the barrier with manic glee. Hot damn.
It’s the first time I’ve caught the band MINI SKIRT though I recognise some of the faces. There’s Jesse Pumphrey. He gets around. And there is only one blonde mullet like Cam’s in this neck of the woods. You never forget that. A review on their Triple J Unearthed page describes their sound as, “Solid ear bashin’, scab pickin’ stuff that doesn’t take itself too seriously. Very fun”. True. Very much fun indeed as they howl out unearthed track Dogs. Then Nigel, Security, Pash Rash and Mekons. It’s getting hot in here.
I haven’t seen Melbournians PEEP TEMPEL live before either so this is a real treat tonight. Geez they’re good. That deep drawling voice from Blake. Might be just me but I think of Billy Bragg. Commanding. Powerful. With a distinctive Australian flavour. “Colloquial larrikinism. Political rhetoric”. I know there’s a story to how the name came about, and why Tempel is spelt that way. I just can’t quite remember what it is. And there was some reference to Portuguese Man O War. Didn’t quite catch what that was about either, but I can identify. The evil bastards nearly killed me once. Tsunami, Boxing Day, 2004. The seas were angry.
Peep Tempel are show-casing and touring their third album, Joy and have already sold out upcoming shows, so we are super lucky to have them here on the Goldy.
The angst of Don’t Race. Bass riffing of Neuroplasticity, about cranial pathways and brain changes. The thumping drums on Ray Guns. Blazing and scorching. Tongue-in-cheek lyrics of Kalgoolie. The clichés of the town with its hard-drinking, hard-working miners. The desert dreaming of Constable.
“We ditched the original individualistic instrumentation, added a corrupt police officer, an old diesel engine, some galahs and organ”.
Describing grandiose song Alexander, “It wouldn’t be a Peep Tempel record without an epic wank”. They finish with kick-arse track, Carol, which was short-listed for Apra’s Song of the Year in 2014. That ripping guitar,
“I don’t want to be so sanctimonious. I don’t want to be such a negative jerk.
But I don’t think Trevor is good for you, Carol.
I don’t think Trevor is good for you
I don’t think Trevor is good for you
I don’t think Trevor is good for you…. Carol”.
“Carol you’re my spade. I’m your bucket”. Ah, sweet love.
With a rebel yell, they cried “more more more”. The lads are lured back for an encore. Whatever it was called I don’t care. Man, these guys are crazy arse good. Fists in the air. Hell yeah.
IMAGES (c) Matt Schembri