New release tips the hat to the Stones with its own fire and brimstone
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- By The Barman
- Hits: 2714
Exile in Warsaw: All Down The Line – Pat Todd and The Rankoutsiders b/w Rip This Joint – Guerilla Teens (Heavy Medication Records)
From a selfish perspective, this is canny timing. The Stones have a formidable new album out and Pat Todd is embarking on a solo tour of Australia. If you’re a regular I-94 Barfly you’ll know that anything with the band moniker “Rankoutsiders” on it rocks like a motherfucker and this split 45 on Poland’s greatest rock and roll label (hence its title) is more proof.
Pat’s beefy delivery isn't close to a Jagger drawl but sits just right regardless, doing justice to the loose and limber original. The guitar pairing of Nick Alexander and Kevin Keller live up to the Taylor-Richards combo that came before them. There’s no radical re-arrangement evident or needed, just a killer band revelling in playing a great song.
Flip it and it’s more Stones circa “Exile”, this time from Portland, Oregon. Fiery five-piece Guerilla Teens rip you a new one. Vocalist Deaf Jeff (aka Scott "Deluxe" Drake, ex-Humpers) hangs on for grim deaf as his veteran band runs through one of the Stones’ finest boogie moments a few miles per hour faster than the original. The Thunderesque guitarwork is icing on this cake. The mark of a good cover is when it leaves you wanting to hear some originals and this ticks the box.
Fake it till you make it...30 years later
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- By Robert Brokenmouth
- Hits: 2528
Fake is Forever - The Wreckery (Golden Robot)
Yes, I've heard the Beatles’ new old song.
No, I didn't know what to expect, and as it turned out I enjoyed it. Loved the piano and John's voice. Naturally, not their best work, and tinged with (insert emotion here) the loss of two of the band's four corners.
Yes, the Internettery is awash with characters pissing on it, for the most part dissing it for not being a light cheery pop song, or not like “the Stones” - whoever they are.
Strange how one expectation can trigger a predictable response, isn't it? “The Beatles song” is certainly aimed more-or-less in the direction the band would have taken, I think, had not that cowardly spit Mark Chapman decided he so much resembled Holden Caulfield that he could get attention LIKE THIS. Disappointed with real life - as so many of us are - Mark Chapman was a weasel who seemed to have been looking for a hook on which to hang his identity/ notoriety hat. I suspect he enjoys being known for that one dreadful, stupid thing.
Digging a ditch never sounded better
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- By The Barman
- Hits: 3141
Sons Of The City Ditch – Pat Todd and The Rankoutsiders (Dog Meat)
Pat Todd and The Rankoutsiders albums are like hernia operations: You don’t know you need one until somebody tells you, and then you can’t do without it. “Sons Of The City Ditch” is the outfit’s seventh long player and is no less desirable than the six that came before it.
You can jump anywhere into the Rankoutsiders discography and you’ll come up smelling like roses, but if you’re popping your cherry you might as well do it with this one. It’s on resurgent Australian label, Dog Meat,who purveyed some prime rock and roll beef back in the ‘80s and ‘90s, and it’s going to be considerably easier to find than the rest of the back catalogue.
Bonus points: Pat is about to embark on an extensive Australian solo tour so you can ask him to sign a copy.
Make mine with a twist of reverb
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- By The Barman
- Hits: 1742
Twistin’ With Lord Rochester – Lord Rochester (Off The Hip)
Don’t let the fact that it’s a compilation put you off. This disc is a charmer with its simplicity and evocation of the ghosts of Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry and Lonnie Mack.
Lord Rochester is a trio from Scotland and plays it straight without the slightest hint of irony. Their music is post-skiffle, traditional rock and roll rendered in its purest form. No tricks and just a dash of reverb.
They lay claim to being “Scotland’s best sounding (and best looking) rock and roll show” and certainly have cornered a certain part of the market for their sartorial elegance, with matching tartan suits and cocktail wear.
Chow down on this shit sandwich
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- By Ronald Brown
- Hits: 2981
You Can’t Polish A Turd - The Monaros (Tradie Records)
Yob Rock, you say? One man’s low brow culture is another’s tongue-in-cheek, high-energy punk rock and Victorian yokels The Monaros are a rough-as-guts adornment to this rich, Australian tradition.
You can trace the origins of yobism back to the likes of Billy Thorpe without trying too hard. Suck more piss, and all that. Maybe Yabba, the 1930s cricket spectator who’s immortalised in bronze at the Sydney Cricket Ground? The start sure pre-dates Cosmic Psychos, who are riding a fresh wave of popularity. Arguing the toss is pointless when it’s a race to the bottom.
EP caps X man's conversion to bluesman
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- By The Barman
- Hits: 2167
Baby, Let Your Hair Hang Down – Steve Lucas and the SLXpress (self released)
The follow-up to last year’s “Cross That Line” album, this concise collection of rootsy blues with country and soul undertones works a treat.
While Steve Lucas will (rightfully) always be known as one of the principal members of the incomparable X, he’s continuing to build a solo musical identity of his own. The SLExpress project suggests an irresistible - or convenient - parallel with David Johansen And The Harry Smiths, the trad blues vehicle for the former New York Dolls frontman.
Pop tyros The Lemon Twigs stun in Sydney
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- By The Celebrity Roadie
- Hits: 3273
Lemon Twig Brian D'Addario.
The Lemon Twigs
+ Jack Ladder
Manning Bar, Sydney
Saturday 28 October, 2023
Photos: Shona Ross
The Lemon Twigs are Long Island, NY, resident brothers Brian and Michael D'Addario and are on their second visit to Australia since 2017. They’ve been on the playlist in our house for four or five years at our youngest family member’s insistence and it was deemed compulsory we attend this show on their short tour.
The show at the Manning Bar was opened by Jack Ladder who had done a spot on the NSW Spencer P Jones Tribute bill a few years back. My recollection from then was that Ladder did a set of acoustic tunes solo and was well received. Tonight, he appeared in a duo with an Epiphone parlour guitar and an accompanist and started off in much the same vein.
Highway 61 revisit their past
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- By Ronald Brown
- Hits: 1827
Driving South – Highway 61 (Rum Bar Records)
The album only took 30 years, a pandemic and a bout of leukaemia to make. The reunification of these four friends three decades after they were a working band produced this very good collection of blues based rock ‘n’ roll. And thank fuck for that.
I love this album but, hey, I’m a bit biased, being a big fan of everything Frank Meyer, music-wise. Highway 61 is Frank Meyer (Streetwalkin’ Cheetahs) on guitar and vocals. Andy Medway on guitar, Mike Knuton on drums and Russell Loeffler on bass and vocals.
Quick backstory: Playing the LA circuit in the early ‘90s, these blokes basically burnt themselves out. As Mike Knuton says, they were playing as many gigs as they could get. They split up but remained close. Then Andy Medway was diagnosed with leukaemia.
Mutiny In Heaven a fitting and vivid celebration
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- By Robert Brokenmouth
- Hits: 5427
Munity in Heaven: The Birthday Party
Director: Ian White
Rating? Nine skulls and a pair of horns. Read on for an explanation.
Much to my Mum's surprise (yes, I have a mother. I was in fact born), the other day I apologised to her for all the skulls I brought home when I was a disaffected kid, aged nine or whatever, and placed these scabrous ornaments around my bedroom. There was a cat skull, a dog skull, a few lambs and calves, a pig, a snake and blue-tongue, and goat horns (but no goat skull).
The area we lived in was countryside only a decade ago so there was a lot of paddocks nearby. I'd hop the ancient barbed wire fence held taut by termite-eroded chunks of wood, and spend most of the day walking. Saw a lot of stuff I probably shouldn't have. Found out first-hand - long before dissection class at high school - what bodies smelt like when dead and when torn open. Some really unpleasant dirty magazines.
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