Hell Hath No Fury...- Chickenstones (self released)
As they say at well-to-do sailing clubs on Sydney's north side: "I like the cut of their jib."
Not that Chickenstones would get into the shadow of the doorway of one of those classy places. These boys hail from the beach suburbs north of the Harbour Bridge, summoned up from the ashes of bands like the Panadolls and Dr Fruitworld, and are doing their very best to keep a withering local live band scene alive in that neck of the woods.
Colourfully billing themselves as "rockabilly/horror country telling tales of broken men, fallen women, bathtub gin and leaving town with no redemption" they play a fine mix of swaggering rock and roll with swampy overtones, with the odd country lick thrown in - just so they can get played on Ray Hadley's radio show. If you believe that you probably think MOsman has homedless people.
The songs are good 'uns, the delivery right up to the mark - just as you'd expect from a bunch of guys who've done the hard yards. Vocalist-guitarist Doc Temple Ellard can bellow with the best or declaim like he's preaching to the unconverted. The engine room's tight an' all and Preacher Van Rooyan's guitarwork sounds like he appreciates the open spaces in the songs. Like the beer glasses at the Harbord Hilton on a hot Friday afternoon, they're well-filled.
There's a touch of the Rosie Tatts in the slide on "I Was Good For You"and "Good As Gold" (an Australianism for sitting pretty), and the latter my favourite just on the strength of it being a cleverly disguised hide-out for the Johnnys, the Beasts of Bourbon and Mudhoney to hang out while they smoke and drink and ride a rumbling bass-line. "Downtown" is the blustery, bluesy song, "Butchers Shop" the country shuffle. Closing tune "Six Foot 4" is a scurrilous boogie that rounds it all off nicely.