Share ROOTS ‘ n’ BLUES - The VeeBees (Ocker Records)
Let’ s begin at the beginning. “Formed in the year 2000 in a back yard in Canberra, The VeeBees started as they meant to continue, in a raucous hail of stupidity and bullshit, seconded only by the pub’n’rock’n’punk’n’roll racket they belt out.” I am, of course, quoting directly from the VeeBees’ website. Guessing by their use of the word “seconded” they are public servants who keep themselves sane by playing the most bludgeoning, mindless excuse for music that this reviewer has heard in many years.
Some would suspect I would abuse them for that. Not at all. Belting out punk thrash as a way of relieving the tension of a banal existence is a perfectly legitimate course of action. We can’t all fund our musical endeavours through petty crime, drug dealing or daddy’s bank account. Besides, someone has to pay the taxes to keep the country running.
The VeeBees claim their music is “based on the classic Aussie pub rock sound”. This is a nonsense. Any comparison to classic pub rock is totally spurious and an obvious ploy to convince pubs to let them play where the beer (if not the action) is. The VeeBees play hardcore thrashy punk, just the way the neighbours hate it. They also claim to studiously avoid writing ‘songs so hard ya can’t play ‘em after a gut full of tinnies’. Well that’s no lie. Those looking for minor chord changes in their music will be lucky to find any chord changes at all. This band’s minimalist approach would leave even Johnny Ramones’ reincarnated jaw scraping along the floor.
The major problem with the VeeBees is that they then decided to add “a great dollop of ocker humour a’la Rodney Rude” to the mix. Whilst it’s pretty much fun and games to make what is essentially a novelty album, it is difficult to review an album seriously if it is going down that path. The truth is, guys, the jokes really aren’t that funny. I’m sure this band is made up off a bunch of swell guys. Whilst it’s nothing special, there’s nothing essentially wrong with this album. It has more wit than its carefully crafted dumbness would have you believe. I mean, anyone who can rhyme “Port Kembla” with “a knee trembler” can’t be all bad. It just never can take the big step up into the world of what is considered to be a proper album. But, at the end of the day, does it really matter if your music is considered ‘proper’.
I could tell you that it’s a shame that this band doesn’t take themselves a little more seriously but that would be ridiculous. What little charm they possess would be ruined forever if they changed one iota. Really this album only deserves about two or three bottles but something about their vulgar thrashings has touched my black heart. Maybe it is because they remind me of the spiritually linked and strangely likable Crapulous Gee Gaw (an equally nauseating combo from the West of Sydney). Maybe, I’ve just had to listen to so many lame discs in the last couple of days that this one sounds pretty damn good by comparison. The truth is, the VeeBees have made exactly the album they intended to make. It is their masterpiece. Their highwater mark. And, no thank you. I don’t want to hear the next one. - Bob Short
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LIVE AT SUMMERNATS - The VeeBees
From the Australian capital of mail order porn, roundabouts that go nowhere and stupefyingly boring weekends (that'd be Canberra) comes another slice of Yob Rock. This steak's come off the barbecue raw, in that it was recorded live at the ultimate bastion of male Australian boganism, the annual Summernats muscle car meeting. Works for me so far.The concept's a winner. Put a bunch of rude, crude Aussie punk rockers on a stage - which they're quite naturally sharing with a a barbecue and a cook wearing a fake tits apron - and serve up sausages and songs. Needless to say the band has a bottomless beer rider. And they play for three days, up to four hours at a time. Roll tape and "Live At Summernats" is what results. If it gets a bit ragged around the edges, you'll understand.
If it was meant to be pretty it'd wear a dress. Reality is that you can almost smell the Lynx body deodorant and farts. None of these 19 songs is a ballad. Not even close. This is hardcore in a blue singlet.
The energy levels are right up there and you should know by now that the VeeBees can play. I can't imagine any fan of the Cosmic Psychos, the Meat Beaters, The Shrewms and maybe the Onyas not liking this.
All the "hits" are there: "Bashin' The Bishop", "Back On The Rock 'n' Roll", "Roots n'n Blues" - which is an essay proposing you be a lover, not a fighter - "Drive Thru Bottlo" and "Up The Shit". Plus a kick-up-the-arse cover of the Psycho's meet-ya-in-the-carpark classic "Cmon Cunt". Yer granny will love that one.
Gay jokes, plugs for the butcher shop that supplied the meat and references to the boys' barbecue bitch (who happens to be a bloke) abound, so if you're after political correctness, look elsewhere.
Occasionally, overseas Internerd users drop the I-94 Bar a line to say my prose is too thick in Aussie colloquialisms to be understandable (the Japanese have a real issue with this.) I guess, for them, the joy in owning a copy will be the cartoon-styled artwork of the bearded man with boobs. - The Barman
GET IT IN YA - The Veebees (Ocker Records)
If you want Australian citizenship these days, the bastards make it tough. They roll out a game of 20 Questions and you're in more strife than a stingray in the Irwin family pool if you can't (a.) sing the second stanza of "Advance Australia Fair" - backwards (b.) name all of Kylie Minogue's U.S. top ten hits (snigger) and (c.) reel off the names and addresses of three National Rugby League stars that haven't been seen doing the rantan on a rival's head at 4am in a seedy Kings Cross nightclub. That last one's a toughie and it's rumoured the substitute question will be to name three songs by The VeeBees. While sculling a cold can, of course.The VeeBees are surely in the top echelon of this country's finest Yob Rock Bands. That's not a club where membership is bestowed lightly - especially while the arseholes of people like the Cosmic Psychos, Fred Negro (in whatever guise) and the Onyas are still pointing to the ground, however sporadically. These Canberra/New South Wales South Coast pissheads should join them around the pool table on the strength of this second album, which has a wicked edge and enough snotty humour to fuel a garbo's picnic day barbie.
If you're an overseas Web surfer you may as well check out now, unless you have a hankering to tackle the impenetrable dialect called Strine (that's Australian.) It should be pointed that the I-94 Bar fields complaints from overseas patrons (especially Japanese) that our reviews are crammed with more inscrutable language than a mining town pub on pay night at 10 minutes to closing time. Should you agree, don't try and decipher the lyrics on this CD. If you haven't twigged after four songs, you never will.
"Get It In Ya" is Bogan Rock write large and in its basest form. Song titles like "Aussie Beef Snags", "Shootin' An' Rootin'", "Whaddya Reckon About Me Ute" and "Three On The Tree" are respectively nods to local cuisine, horizontal action, car envy and manual car transmission. Fair dinkum confused? 'Ken oath, mate.
Of course all this local cultural referencing would be flatter than a case of stale piss in the Queensland sun if the music wasn't up to scratch. The VeeBees have roots (I use that term under advisement) in the Canberra hardcore scene so they've got their chops down. It's a well-worn road down which they drive their Monaro with punk rock tempos prevailing and steel-meshed guitars showing more drive than a phalanx of V-8 hoons at Summer Nats. No doof doof music here, however.
"Three On The Tree" barrels along on fuzz bass and mashing six-strings, a la the Psychos, while the singalong choruses of "Hey Mate" and AccaDacca chug of "Quangers" will get Cheryl's thongs tapping. Needless to say, we won't bother knocking if the panel van's rocking...
But wait, there's more. "Get It In Ya" includes the "Fair Dinkum Rock 'n' Roll" mini album and sweet and sincere ballads like "Beer O'Clock", "Fucked Up Druggo", "Suck Me Off" and a cover of the subtle Psychos classic "C'mon Cunt". Production's not quite as sharp but who gives a shit, you'll be three-quarters of the way through your slab and fuller than a fat lady's boot by then.
I loved their last album and this one's even better, but then again I always thought Sir Les Patterson deserved his knighthood. Don't be a drop kick and ignore this one. We're even selling it and the predecessor in the Bar's shop. - The Barman
CRACK US ANOTHA – The Veebees (Ocker Records)
In the finest tradition of the Onyas and the Cosmic Psychos come Yob Rockers the Veebees. If songs about drinkin’, wankin’, humpin’, more drinkin’ and generally being a bit of a loud and obnoxious tool don’t do it for you, well you can go root your boot (and if you’re an Aussie, the rest of that one should be obvious).
Some trans-cultural explanations are in order if you’re not from the Wide Brown Land of Chunder Down Under. The first thing overseas consumers need to know is that the band’s name is a direct cop from Australia’s most popular beer and most things flow naturally from there. The second is that punk rock transcends all borders, and these boys do it well with singalongs galore and broad Aussie accents.
The Veebees hail from the national capital Canberra, a place less associated with punk rock than Stalinist architecture, roads to nowhere that pass through endless roundabouts, X-rated video shops and politicians. I reckon these Veebees would be hard-pressed to get past the door at local nightspots like The Holy Grail or Minque. One listen to this and even the bouncers at the Kingo or Curtin Pub might have second thoughts. Which should be an inducement to grab a copy.
The Veebees’ preoccupations are laid bare like a streaker’s arse on a hot day at the one-day cricket by song titles like “Up the Shit”, “Drinkin’ Problem” and “Drive Thru Bottlo”. No sense of restraint either in “Bashin’ the Bishop”, whose major lyrical content is a string of euphemisms for tossing off. Is it a coincidence that “Crack Us Anotha” was recorded over four days in the Canberra suburb of Fyshwick, the epicentre of the Australian mail order porn industry? Methinks not and there’s a song (“4 Days in Fyshwick”) to make it official.
This isn’t the first venture into recording by the Veebees with another two albums out there, apparently with similar themes. It’s a slightly re-jigged line-up on this one (with one member leaving to take up professional boxing) and it delivers nine tunes, none of which are sophisticated or pretty. The back cover features a cartoon of two cattledogs doing the Dance of the Beast With Two Backs and it arrived in the post box wrapped in the cardboard remains of a box of beer. Are you sold yet?Have sense of humour, will travel. A bloody bottler and available direct from the beaut blokes in the band. - The Barman
3/4
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