the breadmakers - The I-94 Bar
It took an express airmail consignment of his favourite tipple Calimocho - that'd be cheap red wine and cola, for the uninitiated - before we at The I-94 Bar persuaded RAFA SUNEN to take on this assignment. The mission for the singer from Los Chicos, Spain's premier party punk-country-garage-soul band, was to pin down members of Melbourne's R&B garage veterans The Breadmakers and interrogate them about their new album, "The Breadmakers".
Los Chicos have toured Australia many times and anyone who's seen them will know that keeping Rafa still long enough for him to fire off a few questions was half the challenge. Digging up members of the shady crew called The Breadmakers - in a fit state to undergo questioning - was the other.
The Breadmakers - The Breadmakers (Soundflat Records)
The Breadmakers are a Melbourne institution in a town that has plenty of them. They’ve been peddling their authentic brand of rhythm and blues around the Victorian capital, its environs and various parts of the world since 1989, and their seventh album sounds as fresh as any of its six predecessors.
R&B. Everybody’s on the correct page regarding R&B, right? The term’s been appropriated by the global music machine in recent decades, and applied to bland, largely soul-less genre of soft pap that permeates the airwaves like an insidious virus.
Gold Foil Fever - The Vibrajets (Off the Hip)
So much goodness over just five songs. Warm, fat guitars permeate this predominantly instrumental record like honeybees holed up in in an old hive.
The Vibrajets are Melbourne-based and include past or current members of The Stems, The Shimmys, The Futuras and The Breadmakers - which should tell you most of what you need to know. This 12-inch 45 is their second piece of recorded output, not so hot on the heels of a mono single four years ago. The Vibrajets sound owes its origins as much to the Chet Atkins as “Apache”.
The vintage sound of Sammy-lou Croissant and Julian Matthews’ guitars are all over rumbling opener “Greasy 186”, one of a brace of originals. The shaking cover of Long John Hunter’s “El Paso Rock” reeks of Tecate beer and Tequila chasers. Lick, sip, suck!