Big Day At The Pub: Saturday 26th January @ the Green
Square Hotel, Sydney
Last Hemeroids/Blurters/Asteroid B612/Tito Rivera/Lovetones/Luxedo/Lowdorados/Starky/Laura
Imbruglia/Whopping Big Naughty/Velouria
Good Lord, were we due already for yet another birthday of this great nation of ours? Seems like only... well, less than 12 months anyway since the last such extravaganza at the Green Square. Aside from being an excuse for national smugness and inebriation, the Australia Day long weekend is also the traditional time for the Big Day Out traveling festival, or at least the Sydney leg of it.
To coincide, the Green Square does something of its own, albeit on a more modest scale. Last year the Green Square's alternative festival went under the banner of "The Bands That Ken West Rejects" (for reasons that were made clear in last year's review). This year it was "The Big Day At The Pub". Personally, I like "The Big Day Inn" ("Inn" as in "tavern or public house" and "in" as in the opposite of "out"). However, so far it seems that my linguistic ingenuity has yet to excite anyone other than myself.
This time around not only had I forgotten to set the alarm, I'd also put in a long Friday lunchtime wrestling with the contents of the beverage menu at the Belgian Beer Cafe (shit, their lightest beer was 5% alcohol, the average was in the 8-10% range and my favourite for the day was 12%; no wonder their history consists mainly of being overrun by other European countries - the entire nation must be legless most of the time!). By the time I arrived, bleary-eyed and not having had much in the way of a breakfast, it was around 2:30. I grabbed a soda water and ice on the way through to the band area, arriving in time to catch the last half of the set by Velouria.
Although
I'd never heard of them before, Velouria looked and sounded strangely familiar.
Fortunately towards the end of their set they solved that mystery for me by
confessing that they were actually the Kubes (recently encountered in Maroubra
Junction supporting the Scruffs and the Upsets), just trying out another name
as now they're having second thoughts about their original choice. Irrespective
of their identity crisis, a rose by any other name would still get the toes
tapping just as insistently. Once again I was impressed by their guitar driven
pop, which reminded me even more of Even than it had last time.
Food had been advertised as being available, so in the break between bands I went looking for a little morning sustenance (well, mid afternoon sustenance at least). Unfortunately it was still too early in the afternoon for the snack bar to be open, so all that was on offer was a choice of sandwiches - a choice of three sandwiches to be precise. After some hesitation, I plumped for the meatloaf and sweet chili sauce; not my usual breakfast fare to be sure, but certainly palatable enough, especially when washed down with the first beer of the day (a Coopers red, since they don't stock the green, and with a mere 5.8% alcohol content, relatively light in comparison to those Belgian brews).
Next up were Whopping Big Naughty, back to playing as a trio in the absence of their violinist. I fear that the Whoppers, like Bluebottle Kiss, are a band destined to remain forever a mystery to me. Listening to the three of them individually, it sounds like each is doing the right kind of thing; listening to the three of them together, it generally sounds like the three of them are even doing the same right kind of thing at the same time, but somehow it simply never comes together for me. However there was one song that I did take to. Unfortunately I didn't catch the name of it (it was the one just before "Twist My Nipples", if anyone who was also there can help me out).
The
following act presented a real change of pace. "Hi, I'm Laura",
announced Laura Imbruglia (yes, apparently she is Natalie's sister, though
she chose not to make anything of that relationship herself), doing a short,
solo girl and guitar set with a few self-penned songs revealing, amongst other
things, an admiration for Ellen DeGeneres and a nice line in some subtle humour
of her own. "Don't Stray From My Site" was an examination of chatroom
courtship, email intimacy and the complexities of navigating a romance through
cyberspace, while "Headshrink" was a song about someone whose head
really was getting a little too big (and some suggestions as to how the problem
might be attacked). Other songs dealt with the angst of being an uninspiring
partner in bed and of being written off as gay when it's not true. "Now
I know Ricky Martin's pain", she sang with tongue somewhere fairly close
to the cheek region.
Starky was supposed to follow Laura and did so, but only in the person of frontman Beau Cassidy armed with an acoustic guitar. Apparently the band is currently in some disarray, having lately, or maybe make that very recently, parted company with its drummer. I couldn't help sensing a certain irony in the band's single (and his second song of the set) "Don't Wanna Know" containing the line "I don't like it when I'm on my own..." in the chorus, but he toiled away valiantly nevertheless, sometimes appearing to be reorganising band arrangements for his solo performance on the fly, but allowing the pop sparkle of the songs to shine through some pretty obvious nervousness.
When
Paul Kelly wrote the song "Leaps And Bounds", he could have been
setting out to describe how the Lowdorados have been improving from one show
to the next. He wasn't, but he certainly could have been. Either way, it's
probably not much of an issue for the Lowdorados, who take their cues far
more from Neil Young and Kim Salmon than the melodic Mr Kelly. That's "Tonight's
The Night/On the Beach" period Neil Young by the way - raw and bleeding
emotion going hand in hand with some deep seated, though occasionally unfocused,
aggression. It'd be interesting hear what these guys would do with something
like "Come On Baby, Let's Go Downtown" if they were invited to cover
it for a tribute album.
The new keyboard player they had the last time I saw them seems to have vanished back whence he'd come (perhaps he'd gone off looking for Starky's drummer?), so the band was playing just as a four piece this time. Unlike Luxedo, who followed them and share some of those same Scientists and country/swamp influences, the Lowdorados sound like they're really getting a handle on something fresh and original. Sure there's some post-grunge, alt.country swamp blues in their sound, but it's being driven by a powerhouse rock rhythm section (bassist Mark Horne and drummer Boogs, both formerly of - or rather, hopefully still of - 300 St Claire) which gives it a fierce, menacing edge sufficient to chill you to the core, perhaps reminding you of what some of those drunken backwoods hillbillies like to do to strangers if they catch them alone...
As
the members of Luxedo began to get themselves organised, I heard someone near
me mutter "Nick Cave's love child" under his breath and certainly
their bass player (and co-lead singer) did bear something of a resemblance
to a younger, clearer-eyed and generally less haunted Cave. Their sound came
over as a compendium of every private schoolboy's idea of alt.country/swamp
music; a pop/rockabilly mixture of the Cramps, Scientists, Beasts of Bourbon
(they opened with a cover of "Saturated") and maybe even a little
Nick Cave, though more Birthday Party than Bad Seeds. Tipped into a large
cauldron and stirred enthusiastically, it occasionally threw up a taste of
something interesting but coming straight after the Lowdorados they suffered
in comparison and overall felt a little too mannered, like trailer trash educated
on a Scotch College scholarship - now cultured and urbane, but completely
estranged from their early roots and with nothing concrete or truly heartfelt
to put in their place.
Luxedo
was followed by the Lovetones. Boy, this part of the report is really embarrassing
to write, because I have absolutely no memory of this band. I do know that
it's fronted by Matthew Tow from Drop City and I have a photograph of them
playing, so I also know that they did play (and that I was there), but when
I try to recall their set, absolutely no mental image comes to me. Obviously
I'll have to pay better attention, or take copious notes on the spot, next
time I catch them.
Tito Rivera closed the show last year. This year they kicked off the final run to the finish line. That wasn't the only difference though. Gone were the mullets and fun time ballsing around, replaced by some serious garage action. I think it's fair to say that I wasn't the only one to be taken by surprise at how well and how earnestly these guys were putting it together compared with last year's lighthearted pisstake performance.
For my money, Asteroid B612 were the standout performers of the night. It had been a while since I'd seen the full band play and tonight it was even fuller than usual, with former guitarist Michael Gibbons making a guest appearance (for the entire set!). For a band that hasn't played too often recently, even with just the regular line up, they showed no sign of lacking anything in terms of preparation or match fitness, roaring through a set that was like the crack of doom, only set to music. Newies like "Easy The Hard Way" and "So Long, Goodbye" cheerfully rubbed shoulders with the vintage sounds of "Believe It's True", "Straight Back To You" and "Same Old Blues" in a thunderous display of archetypal "high energy rock'n'roll".
Imagine
you're having a quiet family picnic in the rest area beside a busy highway.
You've just unwrapped your sandwiches and you're thinking to yourself how
calm and pleasant life is. Then without warning a semi trailer hauling a full
load of prize steers to market jack-knifes just as it's passing your spot,
flips, crushes your car and keeps on rolling your way. Talk about death and
destruction, this ain't no average commotion! It's enraged, it's incensed,
it's tormented and tortured, it's bursting at the seams, it's all prime fillet
and it's landing on top of you right now. At least that's what it felt like
to me and obviously others in the crowd as well, as a fair proportion of the
small audience moved up to the foot of the stage to more fully bathe in the
near incandescent glow of the band.
This was true 'roid rage and despite all the accolades heaped on the recent "Readin' Between The Lines" album, they still haven't managed to capture it completely on disc yet (though that album does come the closest of all their records so far). The only complaint that could be made about the entire set is that it was too short. As is inevitable with day long shows, especially where rock'n'roll musicians are involved, start times had slipped gradually during the day and someone had finally decided to start reeling the schedule back in, curtailing the one act that deserved most of all to get a full run.
This was also the first time all day that the audience had shown much animation at all. It could be that this was due to the fact that there hadn't been much of an audience all day, crowd numbers being down dramatically compared with last year's attendance. Sure this show was up against the BDO, but so was last year's show and that drew a good crowd (there not being a lot of overlap in the appeal of the two events anyway I suspect). It must have been a great disappointment to the promoters and the bands; it's certainly inexplicable to me.
Second
to last band for the day/night was the Blurters ("tattooed, old, ugly
and proud") who do flirt with hardcore but lean more to "traditional"
punk, though with a sizeable side serving of "Oi!". Given the size
of the audience and the lateness of the hour, they kept their set short and...
well, I'm certainly not going to use the word "sweet" in relation
to a band whose repertoire includes songs like "Beer 'n' Bile" and
"Pus Fuck". With most of their songs coming in at around two minutes
(or less), they were still able to cover a fair bit of musical ground in their
brief set, including trademark regulars like the aforementioned two tunes,
their not particularly sympathetic exploration of alternative sexual lifestyles
("Public Toilets") and their simple solution to avoid being trapped
in an employment situation where "the boss is a turd" ("Compo
Scam").
Like Asteroid B612, they got the audience up on its feet, though it looked like most of those who'd danced for Asteroid B612 had gone home after their set and the Blurters' audience consisted mainly of those who'd stayed at the back and hadn't been responsive to Asteroid B612. Following them, there was no such audience exchange for those other 'roids on the bill (the evocatively named Last Hemeroids) when they closed out the night with their punk/ska revival set. It looked like most of the Blurters' punks had stayed on to rub shoulders with the Hemeroids' rudies and crusties and in some cases with the band itself, even to the extent of taking over a mike and "guesting" on vocals.
Given
my aversion to too much audience participation on the dance floor, it was
probably for the best that the audience was so small, since it looked like
this band could precipitate a real riot with a larger audience. They certainly
weren't paying any attention to the Green Square's staff, whose efforts to
halt the band got more and more frantic the further past the official curfew
the time got. Although I was unfamiliar with their repertoire, I suspect that
"Morning After" must be a particular favourite of their long term
fans, simply because a couple of them kept demanding it all through the set
until the band finally played it as an encore, much to the obvious chagrin
of the woman from Green Square, who had been signaling them to stop and clearly
thought the tempest was finally at an end. Unlike the rest of the audience,
she now had disappointment writ large upon her face.
But even that wasn't the end. Two seconds after it looked like they were packing up, there was a brief, ska'd up "Waltzing Matilda" and then another encore which sent the audience into yet another frenzy. After that it really did seem to be the end but, as I was going out the front door, I could hear the drums starting up again...
It's been suggested to me that the Green Square Hotel has a "last
ever punk show" every few months, but once the tempers cool, wounds heal
and memories fade a little the punks get let back in. If that isn't the case
this time, then at least the Last Hemeroids took punk out on a bright note.
- John McPharlin
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