Died Pretty
@ the Annandale Hotel, Sydney
Thursday, June 28, 2001
Died Pretty play so rarely these days that every gig should be a treasured occasion for every Sydney punter. Despite this, every time they do play they manage to clash with someone else I'd also crawl over broken glass to see. Last time it was Deniz Tek playing at Bizzos; the time before that it was the New Christs playing at the Exe. This time it turned out to be Louis Tillett playing at the Paddo Town Hall.
Fortunately, Louis was starting exceptionally early and playing two sets. There was no hint of a support act for Died Pretty, just a DJ, so there was always a danger of them playing two sets as well, but greed got the better of good sense and I decided to try for both. Restraint is bullshit and moderation is for wimps - if some is good, then more is better; if you love it and you want it, dive headfirst into it! Get the picture?Upon arriving at the door of the Annandale after a tense cab ride from Paddington (the cabbie's licence featured a photo of a middle-aged Philippino, but I was being driven by a Lebanese guy in his early '20s - would that concern you?), I just about had a heart attack when the bouncer by the door put up his hand to stop me as I reached for the door handle. Shit, it was only twenty past nine, surely they couldn't have sold out already? Or were they trying to spring that dress code shit you get at arsehole magnets like Planet Hollywood (and when I say "you get", I definitely don't include myself because there's no way I'd queue up for inspection/approval outside one of those places in order to be granted the exulted privilege of buying overpriced drinks while being jostled by vacuous tarts of both sexes to the accompaniment of crap music).
Inside, the pub was in fact pretty crowded already, though they seemed still to be letting people in ten minutes later as I passed by the front again on my way to the bog, so obviously it wasn't quite as close to being completely sold out as it had appeared when I arrived (but they must have sold out some time before the band came on, because it was shoulder to shoulder down at the front by then). I have to admit that whatever the DJ was playing, it was intriguing; reminiscent of TV spy show incidental music, only sounding like someone had taken it out the back and force fed it a few steroids. I shot the breeze with whoever was around and it didn't seem like too long before the band was taking to the stage.
The commonly received wisdom is that Ron is the main reason that the band doesn't play too many old songs at their shows; apparently he has never been content to rest on his laurels, but is always wanting to push on with the newer material and ruthlessly pruning the set list to make room for it. The word tonight was that, wonder of wonders, recently Ron had turned up to rehearsal with a list of oldies he felt like playing. Could such a tale be true? They opened with "Whitlam Square" - now there's a portentous sign! I don't know whether it was a touch of nerves or just plain eagerness, but Ron actually came in too early at the beginning, stopped and then had to wait for the band to bring it round to the right spot for him to get on board, but everybody was smiling and clearly pleased to be together on stage tonight. So much for the sporadic rumours that some or all of the members are bored with it and planning to throw in the towel.
I don't know what had happened to the phantom supplicant who always cries out for "Just Skin". I couldn't hear him in the crowd tonight, so maybe he had a cold or was just treating himself to an evening off, but near me was someone being equally persistent about "Winterland". Perhaps they'd arranged to take it in turns...
However this was not just a comfortable night out for the faithful. There seemed to be a broad range of ages represented in the audience and down at the front many of them looked remarkably young (and nubile!) indeed. Fortunately far too young to want to bore you about their autographed vinyl copy of the "Next To Nothing" EP, or how great the band was at some place or other in 1985 and how nothing's as good now as it was in the old days, etc, etc. One of them even joined Ron on stage towards the end of the set, not trying to steal the mike but just providing a bit of impromptu dance support. If not completely delighted, he was at least entertained, even inviting the crowd to give her a round of applause as she left the stage at the end of the song.
Nevertheless, no one in the band looked like they were treating the evening as a foregone conclusion and Ron seemed to be making a point of announcing most of the songs. On the other hand, with so many great songs to draw on, they didn't have a lot to worry about. Throughout the night the newies such as "Brighter Ideas" and "Special Way" were intermingled seamlessly with the likes of "Blue Sky Day", "Crawls Away" and "Everybody Moves". From the way everybody rocked out to "Stoneage Cinderella", you'd think it was so current that JJJ must be playing it now!
Tonight I was right down at the front, not only because I love this band, but also because with all the dancing going on, if I was any further back the only photos I'd have taken would have been of the backs of heads. It was a novel change to be amongst a crowd which was listening with their ears while dancing, rather than moshing and clearly listening only with their <<insert here appropriate names of organs not used for listening or thinking>>.
Ever since their reprehensible failure to properly illuminate Charlie Owen back in February, it has seemed that every time I go to the Annandale there is more lighting around the stage than there was the time before. While it would be churlish of me to find fault with this, we have now reached the unfortunate situation where some of the lights that have been set up along the side and rear of the stage actually shine back out into the audience. Hence I ended up with quite a number of shots that came out looking like one or more band members were diving out of the sun at me. Still, probably serves me right for complaining in the first place I guess.
To cap off my photographic difficulties for the evening, the battery in my camera died half way through the roll. No flash, no autofocus, no automatic lens retraction (and no manual overrides for any of these). Is that a zoom lens in your pocket or are you just really enjoying the show? Needless to say, all the best potential rock photo ops came after that. While Ron was taking care not to ignore the audience, the truth is that when he's at his best he seems to depart into his own world and act out the emotions of the songs for his own enjoyment as much as anyone else's. As the show progressed, tonight turned into one of those happy nights.
At one point the stage was bathed in green light and that together with some heavy cigarette smoke drifting across at the same time, created a virtual Countdown moment. All that was missing an appropriate sign as a backdrop and Molly Meldrum licking his lips in the wings. This led me to wonder how it was that Meldrum wasn't plugging this band (figuratively speaking) week after week throughout the eighties, instead of the endless stream of poorly animated manikins like Roger Vadurous, the clown behind that vomitous "Pina Collada" song, the "Born To Be Alive" guy and the countless other fleeting nonentities whose names and single turgid chart appearances would make us all cringe if I could bear to bring them to mind now? Wait a minute, there was also that one about "Key Largo"... kept coming back to "just like Bogie and Becall" in the chorus... Fuck, I think I am going to be sick.
Anyway, how was it that someone who claimed to be such a supporter of Australian music slavered over these imported plastic upstarts each time one dropped off the conveyer belt, while at the same time he casually but completely ignored such an original band as Died Pretty? Frankly I have never been able to understand why Died Pretty never became as big as INXS. Yeah okay, groan if you like, but in their early pub and club days before commercial success ate into their souls, INXS were a bloody good live band. Still, if lack of success on that scale means that we are spared the spectacle and sorrow of Ron Peno hanging from the fixtures and fittings of some swank hotel, perhaps it was a price worth paying.
Either way, Died Pretty have never given up the struggle, though towards end of set they did give me a brief heart palpitation. I'd lost track of the time, but it seemed that they must be close to the end of the show; they were playing "D.C." and had got to the final bit where they repeat "This is just to say goodbye..." half a dozen times and it suddenly seemed chillingly ominous, you could almost call it a premonition; for a few moments I really thought that Ron was going to say that this was goodbye... for tonight and forever. But all that psychic premonition stuff is just as much bullshit as tarot cards and crystals. It wasn't goodbye; it wasn't even the end of the set. Instead the bloke who had been crying out for "Winterland" all night got his wish and then they even did "Godbless". Boy, Ron must have been feeling really mellow and contented to agree to that one, given the number of times he's said he's sick of it.
At the risk of sounding like one of those late night TV adverts... but wait - there's more! An encore was called for and granted: Brett singing "Through Another Door", then Ron with "Radio" and finally "Slipaway" before they did just that.
It turns out that the whole show was webcast from livecast.com.au, so if you couldn't get to the venue you might have been able to catch it on the net, though I don't know of anyone who knew about it in advance and they don't archive, so if you weren't tuned in at the time you would have missed it there as well. However they're trying to get something regular going with several venues around town, so it's probably a site worth keeping an eye on for future broadcasts (especially if you live outside of Sydney!). Whatever else happens, it doesn't look like Died Pretty have played their last show just yet. Godbless the Sunnyboys if you like, but Godbless them as well!
- John McPharlin
1/2
