Delusionally Yours – Ronny Dap (self released)
He’s not a household name (yet) but don’t let that stop you. Ronny Dap is the self-styled King of Aussie Pub Rock DIY, a minstrel for those who wish their weekend trip to Bunnings was for guitar strings and not Ozito home-brand power tools that fall apart, shoddy customer service and a cheap sausage sandwich.
Yobbos. We’ve had a few. For those playing along at home overseas and not familiar with everyday Australian vernacular, Yobbo is the term for “a heavy drinker, who places mateship above all else and lives for those wild memorable moments that are unforgettable”. According to the authoritative Urban Dictionary, anyway.
From Billy Thorpe to the Cosmic Psychos, yobbos have been part of the musical and cultural fabric –the cut of the cloth being comfy jeans and a blue singlet. Turn up your nose if you must, but disdain for the upper crust, accompanied by larrikin behaviour, pre-dates Oz rock and roll by a long way. It’s probably one of the few defining national characteristics most of us can agree on.
“Delusionally Yours” is the solo debut for Melbourne's Ronny Dap, who usually goes under band-name The Dope Smoking Morons, and the resemblance to those great Melbourne boogie proto-punk rockers the Coloured Balls is striking. That’s to say Ronny plays blues-based, punky songs that chug along on beer-stained riffs, tradesman-like vocals and humour.
From the footy club cheer of “The Hungry 72” to the Ramones-meet-the-Aztecs pump of “Get Real”, it’s wry and righteous fun that stops well short of being boorish. “3XY or I Die” might be all Greek to you but comes across as a celebration of community radio, if not a thinly-veiled plea for airplay.
A message for millennials: “Kings and Queens of Today” is valid social commentary that samples the late Bob Hawke. “Hate the Blues” won’t displace the different Dead Moon song of the same name in the hearts of their fans, but not through a lack of trying.
“Born To Lose” takes a touch of the Clash, marries it to “Ring of Fire”, applies a match and comes up with The Dance of the Flaming Arsehole. If you understand that, you’ve been on one too many end-of-season footy trips.
Production is home-spun – the pre-release hype for this ran along the lines of “One Mic, One Kit, One Guitar, One Bass” – but therein lies much of the charm. Ya gotta love a record that’s home to a lyric like: “I don’t sound like Cold Chisel and I don’t look like Wa Wa Nee”.
It’s a download only (groan) but the price is right. Go here.