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The Dirtbombs at The Tote
by BRETT WOODWARDSELL a kid, or a kidney, but go see The Dirtbombs. The Detroit soul/punk five-piece are in Australia for a national tour and the last of the summer festivals. Despite the fact that every time you venture back to The Tote you immediately remember why it's been a while since you did, this was one of those 'Best-of-the-year-and-it's-only-February' affairs. 
Maybe they aint's that young anymore. First up, I owe the supports and venue a back track. Collingwood's Tote: bitumen black interior; 20-year-old tour posters with every formerly white portion stained dirty yellow by decades of ciggie smoke; plastic glasses; and as much piss on the carpet as in the urinals. The Tote has supposedly had a makeover in recent years but I'm presuming that just means they changed the deodorant cakes in the Gents. The pub is an inner-city throwback almost made extinct by Brewtech and boutique bars. Local trio, The Stabs, opened the night. Having stopped by their MySpace a week prior I was expecting a low-end, bowel loosening, Jesus Lizard meets the Birthday Party - the kind with Nick Cave, not the one with cake and candles. And that's mostly what I got. Bass player Mark Nelson gave an indication of what was to come when he addressed the sound mixer before their opening song: "I can't believe I'm saying this, but could we have MORE of Brendan's guitar in the foldback." The Stabs are decent toilers but the impression that they made was so overshadowed by the following two bands that their faults seemed more pronounced than they probably were. Super-screechy, discordant guitar that sounded like the warning signs you get when you need new brake pads; Matt Gleeson's tribal, tom-heavy drums; and bong-rattling bass at maximum volume. I could easily get to like this but tonight I was just reminded to dig out and spin a few old albums from the fine stable of Amphetamine Reptile Records. The guitar-trashing squall that closed The Stab's set seemed positively old-hat instead of the emotional outburst by an uncontrollable creative-type that it was meant to be. All the impact was sucked out of the moment and into the unfortunate expanse of exposed arse crack that guitarist Brendan Noonan exposed as he bent over to wobble his amp. Any remaining dignity was lost when my partner in rock yelled above the dying screams and cymbal whacking, "It could be worse, he could've been wearing a thong." Sorry Stabs - catch you on the flipflop. I'm going to quote their own MySpace page to the band here: "We're gonna pull our fingers out soon." Don't take this hearing-impaired geezer's jaundiced word for it, The Stabs have a big CD (Dirt), a little CD (6 ft Rodent) and a couple of 7-inchs (Wading/That's It plus The Woods/6 ft Rodent) you can track down - try Missing Link or the stabs. Eddy Current Suppression Ring: goofy name if you're not interested in specialist electronic terminology associated with loudspeaker manufacture but, without any doubt, one of the best live bands in Australia. How to approach a comparison and not sell them short? OK, definitely a 60s garage band influence as well as some '77 punk and a smidge of harder-edged New Wave but never in a kitschy or ironic or "C'mon, everyone else is stealing their sound straight from their groovy uncle's record collection" way. ECSR work hard for their money. The boys wielding axe or stick - Eddy Current (guitars and keys), the sartorial Rob Solid (bass) and Danny Current (drums) - are positively commando in their training and attack. Their exemplary skills and tight playing leave the show wide open for Attention Deficit and Hyperactivity Disordered vocalist Brendan Suppression. A natural showman, effortlessly hilarious and capable of nonchalantly whipping up the front rows into controlled chaos. It's his girlfriend you feel sorry for. And this was one of the more subdued sets I've seen ECSR play! Hanging like a meth-cranked sloth from the lighting rig; chasing cocktails with beers with shots; pumping his arms and stalking the stage like a possessed power walker; Brendan Suppression is magnetic. The band usually play shorter sets that gets any crowd howling for more. The truth is that neither the band nor the audience could keep up this energy level for much longer. Whether you're of the age that remembers the 60s like it was yesterday or the age that remembers the 90s like it was the 60s, I defy anyone not to grin and bop throughout every note of an Eddy Current Suppression Ring gig. It's ecsr in case you were wondering. Having been primed by ABC TV's Soul Deep doco series on Thursday night, I was hankering for the Motown meets MC5 of The Dirtbombs. It would appear that the band are making use of some very old publicity shots when they all had more hair and less puddin', but that's a negligible gripe. Frontman Mick Collins looks a little more like BB King than I recall but he carries it well because he gets so little change out of six foot that let's just call it seven. Two drummers, two bassists and Collins taking care of guitar and vocals - it's an impressive racket. Not only a veteran performer, Collins is a passionate music scholar who has scoured the past to create The Dirtbombs signature sound. The band's set is unrelenting. Once again, every player is so drilled in their part that an hour of non-stop, high-energy, musical brilliance is just another night at work for them. I'm talking NO breaks or banter, one tune flowing seamlessly into the next, the kind of infectious, air-punching, hip-shaking sonic joy that makes you wonder why there are any crap bands in the world. Or why the bad ones just don't go see a Dirtbombs show and either step up or break up. Practically an afroed, honorary Aussie, Collins owns up to being a long distance, 20-year fan of North Melbourne Footy Club. With his band about to pass out, he allows them a two-minute break before encoring with an INXS medley of Need You Tonight and Devil Inside. The arrangement of both songs is so good that they'd have Michael Hutchence turning in his grave wishing he'd come up with the double-drummer, twin-bass, ridiculously-good-band idea. Over the past decade The Dirtbombs have spewed out four albums and a Best Of as well as at least 18 singles that I know of. If you don't make the shows, then speed ye to thedirtbombs and get acquainted. And it gets better: The Dirtbombs are just Mick Collins latest band! They were originally a side-project of the stripped-down garage sounds of The Gories that he put together back in '86. Hunt up any of The Gories discs - House Rockin', I Know You Fine, But How You Doin' or Outta Here, mostly on haven for all things primitive rock, Crypt Records - and see where The White Stripes pinched their entire schtick from. The Dirtbombs in Australia: 1 March - Perth - Amplifier 2 March - Adelaide - Rocket Bar 3 March - Geelong - Barwon Club 5 March - Brisbane - Phoenix 6 March - Hobart - The Brisbane 7 March - Melbourne - East Brunswick Club 8 March - Sydney - Oxford 9 March - Melbourne - Golden Plains Festival More information about Brett's cartoons, books & writing at brett's myspace 1 March 2008 If you'd like to comment on this story email us and we'll put your contribution on our new-look letters & comments page. |
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