ORSTRALIA - 10 Aus Killers That Everyone Should Be Bludgeoned By:
How do you follow up (I'm) Stranded, possibly the greatest punk single of all time and a bunch of other singles from a debut album that is perfection? With this blast furnace of all forward momentum, which maybe is even better than (I'm) Stranded. In fact Perfect! If the razor sharp slash of Ed Kuepper's guitar, the sound of Ivor & Algy nailing the rhythm section to the floor and Chris Bailey's barely contained contempt in the vocals doesn't make the hairs stand up on the back of your neck, maybe check your pulse. The Fall covered this bad boy as well and that's all you need to know.
Proving that the 60's were anything but quaint, Lobby Loyde's searing guitar runs will melt your brain and the manic vocals of Mick Hadley will make you rethink that all the Purple Hearts want is "just a teeny weeny bit of your love". I'm sure their intentions are much more sinister. This rush of blood to the head B-side is all over and done in under two minutes! Not a second wasted on this garage punk masterpiece. And don't get me started on the flipside with Early In The Morning! I challenge you to name a better A & B side that rips harder than this!
Oh those Vanda & Young staccato guitars do it for me every time I hear this bad boy. How could Malcom & Angus not grow up to understand how to play that perfectly interlocking twin guitar rhythm rawk attack while this was going on in their household? Then there's Stevie Wright, with the skinniest legs in stove pipe pants to ever grace a stage and the perfect rock 'n roll voice. He virtually invented the Australian frontperson that everyone's tried to measure up to continuing to this day. From Bon to Brendan Suppression they all take a leaf out of Stevie's book. Also lyrically he's Sorry, but from that cheeky grin and glint in his eye, he's not really that Sorry. I'm sure he was up to no good and having a lark instead, when he "didn't go last night".
"Yeah hup! I'm really gonna punch you out!". Rob Younger with all the subtlety of a bull in a china shop and the rest of the band weren't too far behind musically either. Red hot duelling guitars, propulsive rhythm section and keys (What?) make up this slab of molten punk rock excellence. Radio Birdman proudly wear their Detroit influence on their sleeves (just look at the band name for Christ sakes!), but there is no denying the Australian rambunctious, in your face, knock out effect that this shed burning ball of energy has on you. You might want to have a little recovery time to regroup after this one because everything else is going to sound crap in it's wake.
How can a human voice come out of someone's face sounding like that? "Last weeks dole cheque, up my arm it went". Now it makes more sense! But these junkies certainly didn't just go off into the land of nod. X led by ex-Tatt Ian Rilen, played a blistering brand of Australian punk rock that was heavy on the bass and drums, skeletal to the point of painful with the barbwire guitar sound and weirdly catchy. If Degenerate Boy moved in next door I'm positive that your lawn would instantly die. Classic!
Now for a change of pace from all that stress inducing lack of regard for the human brain to comprehend all of this wild energy, to this smouldering, but no less intense Beast of a killer tune thanks to the late great Spencer P Jones. This one is moody as hell, containing bad thoughts, bad vibes and bad women. Spence takes the lead, Tex adds a suitable amount of menace with his back up vox and then there's that razor wire twang of a guitar line that gets stuck in your head and you realise that this heavy trip isn't just a bluesy rock 'n roll song. It is the blues, knocking on your backdoor late at night and refusing to take no for an answer. Hard to believe a tune of this quality was buried deep on the second side of Black Milk. The second last song in fact. The line "We were having such a wild weekend" always stands out to me because I'm sure these boys concept of a wild weekend totally obliterates any feeble idea we mere mortals may have of the sort of shenanigans that the Beasts would get up to. I'm just glad they made it out alive to tell the tale.
"Nine parts water. One part sand". Is that describing the actual swampland or the ingredients to this song? Or both? Kim Salmon's Scientists of sound had three distinct periods depending on the era. There was the dum dum boys knuckle dragging frantic romantic garage punks of the 70's, the swamp stompin' demented blues abusers of the early 80's and the psycho cook's supreme noise merchants of the mid 80's. Swampland bridges the gap between all three eras only with extra swagger. This song is like an actual swampland at your door step waiting to swallow you whole and drag you to the deep dark where the mud sticks to your lungs and stifles your screams for help. Like the swamp, the surface seems serene but just beneath the surface are where the mysterious dangers lurk. As Kim Salmon aptly sings "..they never think to visit, where the atmosphere's so thick that you could kiss it"
The debut God single from 1987 was written by Joel Silbersher when he was just 15 years old....GAWD! What were you doing at 15? You wouldn't have known your arse from your elbow when God were cooking up an Australian punk rock classic! Ferocious as a feral dog (that's God spelt backwards by the way), but it sticks in your head. Built from a killer descending guitar riff, a rhythm section that is on point and Joel's raw roar of a vocal, is all designed to burn your house down and your neighbours too. Check the lyric "You're my only friend, you don't even like me". With friends like these....God also has the distinction of having members that went on to form or join such seminal bands as Bored!, The Powder Monkeys, Hoss and The Tendrils. But in my opinion My Pal takes the cake. It takes no prisoners and leaves nothing but carnage behind. God indeed!!
Using an eight track machine, which I'm sure was the height of recording technology in 2008, ECSR went into Sing Sing studios to bang out the wonderful racket that would become their second record Primary Colours. On it was this banger Which Way To Go. Immediate, simple no frills primal punk rock, relevant yet familiar and timeless. Oh and I should mention after all that pontification that this just flat out fuckin' rocks! Rob and Danny on bass and drums are tighter than your dad's wallet, Mikey's guitars recklessly careen on the edge and stab in all the right places and Brendan, who knows what the hell he's on about, but it sounds brilliant anyway. There's a feral urgency to this song that grabs you by the scruff of the neck and just when you think your number's up, it's outta here.
What a colossus! How to even begin with this epically epic 16 minute epic song? The seven headed rock hydra of the Gizz offer up the ultimate head trip on this way out wonder. Your head is swimming from the very start with the woozy off kilter feel of the swirling guitars and lo-fi fuzz that sounds like the demented surf guitar band that would be playing in old Beezlebub's local bar. As things move along, it's now becoming difficult to get a grip on anything because your brains beginning to slide out of your ear. Then something familiar kicks in. An old school 60's double time rave-up, but sorry this ain't no regular twenty second rave-up. This sucker never lets up from this point on charging headlong into a relentless krautrock with extra big balls, psychedelic nightmare. Oh my god please slow down, I don't feel well, I think I'm going to be sick, there's too much going on, please stop...please stop! Does that sound like your idea of a good time? Yeah me too!
Ben Rankins
Commentaires