The New Christs
+ Jupiter 5
+ The Stallers
Marrickville Bowling Club, NSW
Friday, 19 June 2026
WORDS & IMAGES: The Barman
When does a band cross the line from having notoriety to being an institution? At what point does rock and roll cease being venal and become venerable? If a full-house for the New Christs on a Friday night in Sydney doesn’t raise these questions and more, you’re probably not over-thinking things enough.
We’re not talking about “playing things safe” and an audience becoming overly familiar as a band goes through the motions. If you want that, go to a Dragon gig. This is about when an audience make a band its own, accepting what it dishes up and extracting a little more as the on-stage energy feeds back becomes a loop
Melbourne values its live music and the people who play it. Sydney, not so much. Gig-going’s no longer in our blood and it's too simple to blame the pokies. We see a show advertiswed, feign interest, give a “going” click to a Facebook event, but if there’s the sniff of precipitation in the wintry air, we retreat into to our bolt-holes and stream six-part Netflix doccos. What the fuck is wrong with us?
Rob Younger avoids the paparazzi at a packed Marrickville Bowlo.
Was a time eons ago when Rob Younger bemoaned the lack of popularity of his band. At a time when going to live music was a way of life, he reckoned they couldn’t get arrested walking across the street. Truth is often stranger than fiction, and the New Christs could have been locked up in Queensland in the mid-1980s after a run of gigs was cancelled on the strength of their name being blasphemous. OMFG, you might say. Back then, we just said, “Fuck me dead”.
Rob’s point remains valid. Aussie pubs treat rock and roll bands like shit even when they’re making them good money. When the live music scene was at its peak and some absolute dross was pulling in the masses, the New Christs and their ilk struggled to make an impact.
People think of “Distemper” as a critical masterwork but in 1989 when it landed Album of the Week on Triple J, but it stiffed at the cash register. No wonder that line-up fucked off to tour Europe. I took a bunch of people to see the band at Caringbah Inn on a free Thursday night back then and most of them took refuge in the middle bar after three songs.
The New Christs are a storied band – or series of bands. There might have been some self-sabotage along the way and their stylistic attack is not for everyone, but the truism that “people don’t know what they like, they like what they know“ has always applied for original acts like them and it rings more true today than ever.
(If you need proof, just remember that the undoubtedly well preserved remains of Australian Crawl are about to stagger out of a crypt like a variation on a Zombie Apocalypse to wreak havoc upon the electronic wallets of karaoke-loving, mortgage-numbed Middle Australia. They will sell a shitload of tickets at a price that will rival the 150 smackers that Iva Davies wants from you to see Arsehouse, sorry, Icehouse, A good time to avoid those wineries.)
This Sydney show by the New Christs is their first in a year but it’s still a pleasant surprise to find it’s a sell-out.
Opening support The Stallers have moved on from being purely an underground rock jukebox by peppering their set with originals. They still lean on covers, but most are obscure enough to be mistaken for their own material. For example, “I’m a Ramrod” (by The Ramrods) dates from 1977 Detroit, while “Liquor Fit” is a cover of homegrown Sydney heroes Lipstick Killers.
Hats off to Darren Trew from The Stallers.
Those Stallers love their headwear.
It’s meat with some potatoes and a slap of gravy, driven hard by Max Trew’s pounding rhythms and Mark and David Tondi on guitar and bass respectively. Vocalist Darren Trew sports his trademark hat (borrowed from Molly Meldrum or Lemmy? you decide!) and sings his heart out. It all makes for a good, four-on-the-floor night out.
Their 45-minute set in the often thankless opening spot draws warm applause from the swelling crowd, underlining that The Stallers deserve to be seen by more people.
Jupiter 5 drummer James McQuade wants you to know he has an endorsement deal.
On to main support Jupiter 5 and I’ll declare a fiduciary interest as their pro bono booker. The band’s at the point of mixing their second album aright now and have staked out their own stylistic turf where ‘60s garage meets Sabbath riffs. You can hear the former in “Go Away” (a cover of a song by garage punks The Plague) and the latter in “Kafteth” (one of Jupiter 5’s first originals and through its umpteenth iteration tonight.)
Jupiter 5 is a well-oiled machine who consistently rock harder than most of the bands in Sydneytown. Toss in the performance art storytelling of frontman Jay “Man Of Many Faces” Younie and you too will wonder why they don’t pack their own headline shows.
Jupiter 5 frontman Jay Younie has an endorsement deal too. He says there's no other store like David Jones.
Jupiter 5 bassman Peter Ross needs no sponsorship when he's The Celebrity Roadie.
What about those New Crists, though? A hungry version of “Like A Curse” kicks things off and it’s already apparent that Rob is in his finest vocal form, sounding every bit as cranky as on the lovelorn original 45. “Weaves Form” shoots out at us like a natural-footed surfer emerging from a Cronulla Point right-hand barrel. “A Window To See” is a breather by comparison.
It’s familiar stuff for regulars with a slight bias to the two most recent albums – at least until much later in the night. And the term “recent” means “Gloria” from 2009 and “Incantations” a mere dozen years ago. No surprise there as both long-players are the products of this Younger-Dickson-Kettley-Williams-Larsen line-up, which is the most enduring version of the band.
Dave Kettley of the New Christs.
Brent Williams of the New Christs.
Not that there isn’t a decent amount of older material like “We Have Landed” (delivered in crunching style) and an always welcome “Burning of Rome”. If you haven’t seen the Christs do “Born Out Of Time” lately, you’ll be spared a spoiler that reveals what songs it morphs into, but the ease of the changes underlines how tight these guys are.
And relentless. The energy levels are in the red. The stage sound may be indifferent, thanks to the venue’s Friday night raffles getting in the way of a decent soundcheck, but out front it sounds fearsome.
It would be great to hear newly-recorded material and that’s not beyond the realms of possibility. Watch this space.
Tonight, they save the twist for the tail. Jasper Williams, teenage son of guitarist-keyboardist Brent Williams, joins them on sax for a rollicking version of “Headin’ South” that like swings like a wrecking ball. Hard to believe that it’s bettered by a ragged but righteous version of “1970” that does indeed make the crowd feel alright.
Rob enjoys a sneaky dry white while Jasper Williams turns the joint into a Fun Houee.
