PAIN
- Rose Tattoo (Steamhammer) The Tatts are back and what's up with that? A one-off reunion in the early '90s for a Guns & Roses support spot eventually turned into the odd run of Australian
shows
with various line-ups (the central core of Angry Anderson and Peter Wells being
the constant.) As good as those outings have been, it was hard to think of them
as anything but an exercise in nostalgia, even when they produced gigs in Europe
and 2001's sprawling "25 to Life" live double opus. You never thought you'd
see a new Rose Tattoo studio disc? We're all the richer for the fact that they've
proven us wrong. The Tatts were the missing link between the boogiefied, blues-edged Pub Rock of the mid-70s and the anarchic, violent punks of that decade's latter half. Coming on like droogs from Clockwork Orange, with their overalls, dyed hair, heavily-inked skin and "fuck you" attitudes, they were more Coloured Balls than chugga-chugga AC/DC (even though they shared the same Alberts label and Vanda and Young production team.) Their roadies may have beaten the shit out of Rob Younger one night at the Bondi Lifesaver, but one of their shows left me feeling quite the same at a beer barn a few years later. It was the night I turned 21 and I managed to find a position, up-front, where I could rest a bottle (not a hip flask!) of cheap bourbon whisky and two jugs of Coke on the stage. This disc is called "Pain" but I felt very little that night.
My local rekkid retailer reckons "Pain" is the best thing the Tatts have ever done. My response is that it probably doesn't quite match the band's furious self-titled debut - which I played, back-to-back and which had tracks like "Nice Boys" and "Bad Boy for Love" (both worth the price of admission) - but cranked at a respectable volume, it does peel paint and cause the cat to feel noxious.
You know what you're going to get when you play a Tatts disc: The loudest, dirtiest blues possible with Angry wailing away with tales of violence, rejection and redemption and Pete Wells' scything slide guitar smeared all over it. Recorded in Germany during their most recent tour, it has a BIG sound (whether it will be a tad too clean for some is another matter.)
For this disc, longtime Wells cohort Steve King on bass and latter-day Tatts drummer Paul Demarco occupy the engine room, while a Zeppelin-sized Rockin' Rob Riley amply and ably fills Mick Cocks' guitar berth.
Best work-outs? "17 Stitches" gives anything in the category of full-tile boogie in the Tatts' back catalogue a run for its money. "Kisses and Hugs" has a tearaway slide lead and a lyric to bring a smile. "Pain" is a caustic, semi-spoken word rant in the broadest of Oz accents ("Fuck 'em, big and small" - you tell 'em, little guy!) "One More Drink With the Boys" is going to have ageing westies from Blacktown to Bremmen singing along in their schooners/steins before running the gauntlet of random breath testing on the way home from the pub (not that we're encouraging anything but responsible service of alcohol and designated drivers, you understand.)
No doubt about it - Pete Wells' work on guitar is absolutely first class. While Angry's vocal doesn't quite have the ear-bleeding range of past years, his greater control actually sits well with the material.
Verdict: Not quite the complement of instant anthems you might have hoped for but full of growers and stirring sonic moments. Don't book those beds in the nursing home, just yet. - The Barman
1/4