THE MONARCHS
Excelsior Hotel, Sydney
August 23, 2000
There's a buzz around town about these guys and having only caught half a set as a support to Dr Tek, was I keen to venture out on a Wednesday night to one of the smallest but best venues for live music in Sydney, the re-modelled Excelsior? You betcha. Their hot single "2001" had hit the shelves two weeks earlier and other commitments at the Bar had precluded attendance at the launch.
There's a buzz outside of town for The Monarchs as well, judging by the chatter on their excellent web site. They've conciously done their share of interstate shows, as much for band bonding as for spreading the word, it would be reasonable to suggest. A show in Canberra earlier this year moved one fan to have the band logo tattooed on his bicep (shades of Radio Birdman fandom there). That beats a door stamp and entitles him to free admission to any show.
Not that you needed either a stamp or a tatt tonight; this was a free gig and, according to the venue, was due to kick off at the unreasonably early time of 8pm, due to its status as "an industry showcase". Obviously today's bright young industry things lack the staying power/chemical assistance of those from preceding generations, whose staying power at hang-outs like the Manzil Room was the stuff of legends. Nevertheless, venue managers from around the world share one trait: The ability to tell patrons a supposed start time much earlier than reality. A cynic would suggest this is just a ploy to fuel drink sales. Me not being a cynic, I settle down next to the bar and have a beer with one of the industry types who doesn't have his head up his arse.
Sheets of feedback and rolling drum fills signal the crowd to fill the back room, where head Monarch Brad Sheperd (ex-Hoodoo Guru, for those who don't know) is giving a Brother J.C. Crawford-style declaration from centre stage. The rave reaches its crescendo and itŐs straight into "Give It Up For the Band", as good a set opener as you could hope for and we're off and racing.
In case you haven't heard the rationale of the Monarchs in BradŐs recent chat at the Bar, the Monarchs' collective aim is to borrow the Rock Action attack of bands like the MC5, Blue Oyster Cult and his own 1979 Brisbane punks the Fun Things, and mix it with equal doses of pop sensibility and rock god showmanship. This is a band more than capable of doing so as they're all great players: Andy Kelly and Murray Shepherd lay down a dense bottom end with real crunch. Brad and Greg Hitchcock bounce off each other on guitar, really attacking their instruments in a manner that suggests they really do mean it, and the whole band contribute backing vocals. To my mind, they're populating similar ground to the Hellacopters, though doing it with better tunes and liberal lashes of humour that take them beyond pure theatrics and "lead breaks for lead breaks' sake".
"Give It Up" is a good example: Short, sharp tuneage with an identifiable chorus and loads of guitar. And we can never have too much good guitar. "Loud" is that. "69 Monaro" is distinctly Australian and a fitting song to either drive one by or wear a Holden T-shirt to. There's a mid-set ballad ("the only song we do that has a gnatŐs chance in hell of getting played on Austereo") whose name I don't catch and thereŐs a great song dedicated to "Newcastle", the semi-industrial city to Sydney's north, called "NobodyŐs Perfect". It's all punctuated by a stream of between-song banter and genuinely funny jokes and rolled out with machine gun intensity. And impeccable dress sense.
One of the highlights, for mine, is the scorching cover of Sonics Rendezvous Band's "Earthy", delivered with even more intensity than the Hydromatics version can muster. (Inside tip: This song is destined for a forthcoming compilation album in the not-too-distant future. Watch this space.) It's also the cue for dual lead interplay and the whole band falling to their knees. Naturally, the single gets a run Đ can you believe Triple Jay are even playing it and it's a pity but we're in the home stretch. The B side "This is All I Can Do" is even better live than on vinyl.
The tumult and feedback subsides and Brad strikes up the opening lyrics of The Who's "Feel Me, Touch Me". A few audience chuckles emit - is this a pisstake? No, as it turns out, and as the song proper kicks in it's clear that we're going to be treated to a balls-out cover (in honour of the late, departed Moon the Loon it's his birthday.) Guitars get hoisted above head level and the band members individually wring maximum feedback out of their amps as the song screeches to a halt. The Monarchs depart, leaving Murray on stage to solo and eventually wind down the beat. He saunters off stage, pausing only briefly to kick a few more notes out of GregŐs guitar, and it's all over red rover.
Time for the Barman's "declaration": Great. Get a tatt, if you like, but what ever you do, go see 'em.- The Barman
