300 St Claire
Knucklehead
Asteroid B612
Jim Cobain
@ the Iron Duke Hotel, Sydney
Friday August 4, 2000It's funny how venues run hot and cold - around March/April I seemed to be at the Iron Duke every week, sometimes more than once per week. Now here I was back there for the first time in over two months, but with this line up I just couldn't stay away.
Given the Duke's fondness for free post-midnight shows, I was expecting the bottom-billed 300 St Claire to be on last, putting Knucklehead up first and it turned out I was half right, though ultimately for the wrong reason but who gives a stuff - Knucklehead were there to rock and I was there to be rocked, so it was a perfect conjunction of supply and demand.
This band took me by surprise last month at the Green Square (ironically only a block away from the Duke, though you wouldn't know it from the map which accompanies the Green Square's regular adverts in the rock press - a very ingenious example of the cartographer's art which puts the pub almost adjacent to the new train station but manages to exclude the equidistant Duke). This time the Knucklehead performance seemed a little looser, but maybe that's just because my expectations had been raised after the previous outing. Regardless, these guys know how to crank up a riff and ride it into the sunset and they threw in a nice cover of Fleetwood Mac's "Oh Well" for good measure.
Next up, to my surprise, were 300 St Claire... or St Clair or St Clare - in the last couple of months I've seen the band advertised under each of these designations, but unfortunately there's no helpful lettering on the big bass drum to point me toward the definitive spelling, perhaps because this drummer is on loan from the Crusaders and also moonlights in at least one other band (the Dirty Low). He probably realised long ago that he couldn't afford a separate drumskin for every band he's in, though you'd wonder that he doesn't need a little something to remind him which band he playing with on any given night... hmm, if it's the Iron Duke, this must be 300 St Cla(i)r(e). Anyway, lexicological bullshit aside, every time I see this band they seem to have moved a couple of steps further from their laid back stoner beginnings. On this night they were the fastest and hardest I've heard them play yet. Oh and they were also the f!#%in' loudest I've ever heard them play. Even when they were just tuning up conversation became impossible and after they'd finished conversation remained difficult due to the ringing in my ears.
It turned out that Jim Cobain wouldn't be on until very last. Their drummer also plays in multiple bands and, despite it being their own CD launch, had managed to double book himself into a second gig on the other side of town and couldn't get to the Duke until after midnight, leaving Asteroid B612 to step into the de facto headline spot - something which caused no problem for either the band or the audience, a mixture of regular punters and luminaries like the New Christs' rhythm section and both Jameses from the Crusaders (one of whom was being shadowed by a schoolboy wetdream fantasy of a tall woman in a black PVC top slit down the front half way to Tasmania... but I digress). Meanwhile, between sets my ears were just able to make out something good coming through the PA over the continued ringing (for f!#%s sake, will somebody answer that phone?), and it turned out to be an advance copy of Simon Drew's Badass Roadshow CD. One hopes that the discerning record buying public of Australia won't end up having to wait as long for this as they've had to wait for Mr Drew's previous project, the Chainsaw Men CD!
Right from the outset, Asteroid B612 came across as relaxed and in control - so relaxed in fact that amongst the highlights from their own records they even slipped in a rendition of the Bee Gees' "Spicks and Specs", though subsequent calls from the audience for "Stayin' Alive" were to go unfulfilled, and so commanding that John Spittles was able to drop his guitar and go to the bar to get himself a drink in the middle of their set without losing the audience. Towards the end, a small woman standing next to me asked what I thought of the guitarist. When I admitted that he certainly seemed to know his way around a fretboard, she told me "He's my son", much to her obvious pride and my equally obvious surprise.
After Asteroid B612 surrendered the stage, the lads from Jim Cobain performed one of the quickest changeovers in living memory, doubtless prompted by the fact that clearly many in the audience were already so satisfied with the night's entertainment that they considered they'd had their money's worth and were happy call it a night. In fact by the time Jim Cobain strode onto the stage, now dressed like refugees from a '70s documentary on Harlem pimps, nearly half the audience had pulled up stumps and departed. The band were philosophical - when their drummer was asked about his foldback, he told the sound man to turn down the vocals because "these guys can't sing for shit" and the band proceeded to rip into a strong set, though at times it leaned a little too close to hardcore for my taste. I think the night is best summed up by New Christ Christian Houllemare; as Jim Cobain took the stage in all their finery, I distinctly heard him mutter, "Ah you Aussies, you love your cabaret". - John McPharlin
