THE
SAVAGE BEAT OF THE SCREAMING TRIBESMEN – The Screaming Tribesmen (Shock)
Whatdyareckon we’re going to say about this? The original three-piece
Screaming Tribesmen produced two classic singles and an impossibly rare EP,
all of which you can hear on “The Savage Beat…” But that’s
not all. There’s a fairly cool EP outtake (“Look In Your Eyes”,
which I’m sure was played by later line-ups) and 10 live tracks of primo
‘60s punk, showing 
exactly
where these Brisbanites were coming from.
The mod band tag the Tribesmen attracted from some critics in the early days
always threw me. The Tribesmen always had more of a Nuggets feel to their
tuneage that didn’t seem to owe a lot to the Who and the Small Faces.
Nor did their look – long hair and leather jackets. Plus, they didn’t
ride Vespas.
Buggered if half the live songs represented here didn’t make it into
latter day line-ups’ sets. We knew and loved ‘em, we wondered why
the band didn’t record them, but only later did it become apparent that
gems like “See the Way” and “Left in the Dark” were obscure
covers (originally owned by the Black Diamonds and the Vertebrats, respectively).
What the hell, they were (are) great songs, done by the original line-up which
only a handful of people in Sydney actually ever saw.
While on the subject of great songs, the EP songs actually hold up better
than you might think. Put down in a Brisbane commercial jingle studio, the
production faults are obvious but not fatal. “I Don’t Wanna Know”
is a moody piece while “Love Lite” could have come from a volume
of “Ugly Things”. The previously unreleased “Look in Your Eyes”
has a spoken word intro that probably has band members squirming all these
years down the track, but put it down to youthful enthusiasm.
The greatness of “Igloo” and its wall-of-sound goes without saying,
but the early B sides (“My True Love’s Blood” and “Move
a Little Closer”) remain underrated classics (even if the latter copped
its bassline from a Cure song). Mick Medew was blessed with a scream that
competitors dearly wanted to match and it’s shown off on these two songs.
Twenty-something years on, it still takes some beating.
In these days of jewel cases, punters rightly demand more for their hard-earned
and Shock has obliged with a stunning booklet. Interviews with all band members
and a selection of ancient photos rounds off the package.
Like the Raven compilation that preceded it, this is essential listening.
– The Barman
The I-94 Bar can proudly say we played a part in the live selections making
it to your CD player. A copy of the entire show these tracks are culled from
came our way than ks to a mate in the States a few years ago, and we duly
passed it on to Murray Shepherd’s brother, Brad. Who slipped it to Murray,
who sent it Dave Laing’s way at Shock. Seven degrees of separation
or what?
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ANTHOLOGY
1982-1993: ALL HAIL THE TRIBESMEN – The Screaming Tribesmen (Raven)
There was a time in the early-mid ‘80s when, for me, the Tribesmen
could do no wrong. Many a weekend was spent traipsing around the Sydney live
circuit, having a rocking good time with them as my soundtrack.
The earliest incarnation of the band I’d cottoned onto late, a short
time after they'd breezed into Sydney and not long before two of the three
member declined to make the move fulltime. "Igloo" was their first
single on Citadel and made a huge impact. "A Stand Alone" (a song
originally played by the 31st, whose ranks spawned future Died Pretty and
Hitmen members) was similarly engaging.
The band's next incarnation revolved around founder Mick Medew (he of the
incredibly slight physique, plaintive vocals and blistering guitar) and producer-turned-band
member Chris Masuak, whose history in Radio Birdman and then the Hitmen needs
no reiteration. (For a time, in fact, the Tribesmen were most of the Hitmen
with Mick Medew and a whole different set of songs in tow, with drummer Mark
Kingsmill and bassist Tony Robertson moving on after a few weeks).
From then on, me, a circle of mates and the Screaming Tribesmen collectively
clocked some serious gig-time. There was scarcely a show on Sydney's southside
that we missed, and it remained that way until the dissolution of that line-up,
post a US tour. I recall staving off serious jetlag before one show, being
back in Australia only a few hours after six months overseas. I shot a few
zeds in a parked panelvan and the only thing that was going to raise me from
the Land of Nod was the imminent arrival of the Tribesmen, whose set blew
me away that night. That was the Medew-Masuak-Michael Charles-Bob Wackley
line-up and I'll be stuffed if they weren't the best band doing the rounds
at that point in time, with only Died Pretty, the Rifles and a (then-dormant)
New Christs holding a candle. The new Tribesmen who carried on into the '90s
just didn’t feel the same.
So it’s "high time" (geddit?) that someone delivered a compilation
of their finest moments (discounting the European best of from the early '90s).
Raven are carving out a respectable reputation for legacy releases,
being responsible for archival Lime Spiders, Saints discs and the wide-ranging
"Born Out of Time" comp of Oz '80s underground stuff. This one goes
a step further than the aforementioned Euro "High Time" retrospective
by picking up on some songs from the latter-day (post-Masuak) bands.
The Tribesmen story is one of three parts. Early indie cult heroes from the
comparative backwoods become a serious proposition on moving to the Big Smoke
and reconstituting. In their new form (around the Medew-Masuak nucleus) they
become of the hardest-working acts on a still burgeoning live circuit. Overseas
attention sees them climb to the upper reaches of the US college radio circuit.
They're signed by a label (Ryko Disc) who puts them onto the North
American touring treadmill, where problems at home and abroad bring a very
different band back to Oz. That configuration dissolves and Mick surrounds
himself with arguably lesser line-ups who concentrate on the more metallic
end of the sound spectrum. There’s some success in Europe but, the band
all but ignored at home, it all just peters out…
But in retrospect, a fine-looking corpse they left behind. The Screaming Tribesmen
could have been every bit as big as contemporaries the Hoodoo Gurus. That
they never made it to that level was probably down to the usual industry confusion
about how bands like this should be regarded. Too heavy for the masses, too
poppy for the inner-city, the Tribesmen walked a fine line between indie cool
and overground success that the industry probably never came to terms with.
(The big hair probably threw a few people, too, come to think of it).
If there's one criticism with the song selection (isn't there always?) it’s
the absence of "Two Blind Mice", the song that should have driven
the Tribesmen and their brand of knife-edge guitar pop into the mainstream
charts.
Onto the music proper and most of it you should be familiar with. All the
early songs are there ("Igloo", "A Stand Alone" and their
flipsides) but what might have missed your turntable on the way through are
four cuts from the band's self-titled, debut - a custom-pressed EP - only
one of which ("I Don't Wanna Know") is included. Production values
on this one are down but don't let that stop you. What does sound great is
the sizzling crunch of "Ice" is here in its glory, as is the traditional
set closer, "Don’t Walk Away", with its soaring chorus and
chunky guitars.
MTV-exposed "I've Got a Feeling" now sounds a little too slick (sorry,
but those Masuak trills lean towards excess) and "Ayla" (originally
issued on a 12-inch single) is positively Zeppelinesque. The principal members'
influences are showing on the sole cover, a credible take on the 'Tators'
"Stay With Me", while the B side of "Feeling"', "Colour
Me Gone", provides a bit of country-fried variety that shows the band
was at least willing to try a few different things. "Hammer" (from
the diamond hard "Blood Lust" LP) betrays the move into metal territory
and has to be the heaviest thing any line-up of the Tribesmen ever recorded.
"Fatal Fascination" and "Got You on My Mind" fly the flag
for the "Formaldehyde" album, the final major release and one that's
still under-appreciated if sometimes a little faceless.
Compiler Ian MacFarlane has done the usual sterling job on the liner notes
and the 12-page booklet provides a comprehensive wrap up of the Tribesmen
story. There's another companion compilation coming down the pipeline in months
to come, but don't let that deter you from parting with your hard-earned for
this one. This is the only comprehensive retrospective and, if my damaged
ears don’t deceive me, is mastered much hotter than "High Time".
It's just great to have all this stuff in one place and it'll be a nice soundtrack
to the much-anticipated reunion shows of the original line-up in Australia
late in 2003. - The Barman
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