
Nobody Wants Me - Babeez (Buttercup Records)
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- By The Barman
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Do you have even the slightest interest in the early Australian punk scene? Are you looking for an excuse to your drop hard-earned on a lovingly-packaged, beautifully rendered piece of long-playing vinyl? Look no further.
Melbourne’s Babeez grew out of glam rock, parties, 5/4 rhythms and the arty Carlton music scene of the mid-1970s. Their epiphany came with hearing the Ramones’ first album. They never fit the punk mould - whatever that was in a confused Australia that absorbed “the real thing” by way of tabloid TV and sea mailed magazines that arrived months after trends had been and gone overseas.
The Mummies go Down Under
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The Mummies in full flight. Shona Ross photo
The Mummies in Australia? No fucking way! Hard to believe, but true. A hit-and-run visit spanning three states in less than a week (with a stop-off in New Zealand on the way home) admittedly but a tour, nonetheless.
The Mummies were The Shit in garage rock in the late 1980s. Conceived as the ultimate anti-band by Trent Ruane (organ, vocals), Maz Kattuah (bass), Larry Winther (guitar) and Russell Quan (drums), they were a lynchpin of San Francisco’s lo-fi scene. Emerging from their tomb sporadically in the ‘90s and ‘00s, they’re renowned for being the band that gave the then very hip SubPop label the finger when refusal to sign was a death-wish. They have made no-frills Budget Rock an art-form.
Sunn0))) and Magma at the Adelaide Festival
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- By Robert Brokenmouth
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Sunn0))) holds court: Tomway Armie photo
It’s one of the last couple of nights of the Festival and Fringe; Womad is grooving away in Botanic Park, hipsters are growing beards, diners are admiring themselves and magician James Hessler is befuddling everyone else. Crowds are flocking like pigeons in one of Godspeed (etc)’s fillums.
Over at Thebarton, we pick up the tickets and plunk ourselves outside the door. The beefy bouncers all wear yellow shirts and clutch industrial strength earmuffs. After about 40 minutes we scurry in, straight to the interior entrance, for another 30 minute wait, and a $12 plastic cup of cider (our last, at that price).
Bite Your Tongue - Spacejunk (High Kick Records)
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- By The Barman
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Brattish as fuck and more highly-strung than a cosmetically-enhanced girlfriend’s bra strap, “Bite Your Tongue” proves lightning strikes at least twice. This second offering from this Melbourne band is a case of “second album, just like the first”, sonically-speaking, and that’s no bad thing.
Spacejunk operates in that hard-to-pigeonhole musical space that’s vaguely described as “psychedelic punk rock”. It equates to loud, fuzzy guitars, left-field sonic touches and a barely-controlled energy. Mark E. Moon’s lerry, acid-flecked vocal is the crowning touch.
Godspeed! You Black Emperor and Vampillia at the Adelaide Festival
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- By Robert Brokenmouth
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It’s bloody festival time here in Adelaide; the week has been a hot one and between stepping around benighted tourists we’ve been taking extra-long detours around the city in order to get anywhere, cheerfully accepting the extra time and travel because the V8 car race is also on.
Then the weather bureau decided that there would only be a 30 percent chance of any rain. Parking the car the heavens opened in what is a sort of minor subtropical hissy fit, and I get drenched.
Hurrah.
R.I.P. Dead Moon drummer Andrew Loomis
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- By The Barman
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Dead Moon drummer Andrew Loomis has passed away after illness, according to the band’s Facebook fan page. Loomis had to stand down from the band on the sporadic shows it has played of late. This statement was posted a couple of hours ago:
“He took a sudden and sharp, unexpected turn for worse a couple of weeks ago and has been in the hospital since February 25. Tests determined he had a series of mini strokes at home, then developed respiratory problems over this past weekend. This morning he was put on a morphine drip (and) passed peacefully.”
Loomis was originally diagnosed with cancer but was free of the disease when he passed away.
Radio Birdman joins Record Store Day rush-hour with limited edition single
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In news just to hand, Radio Birdman is releasing two previously unheard tracks on 7' vinyl - the Master's Apprentices "Buried and Dead", and Alice Cooper's "The Ballad of Dwight Fry".
Both cover versions were originally recorded in 2004 at Hothouse Studio in Melbourne, and recently remixed and mastered. The single will be a Record Store Day special so make enquiries with your local emporium of vinyl.
Post Pop Depression - Iggy Pop (Loma Vista)
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- By The Barman, Bob Short & Robert Brokenmouth
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There are two reviews already here, each definitive in their own right. Beaten to the punch with little to argue about, all I can offer are some additional observations.
A quote in a pre-release interview has led many to believe that this is Iggy’s recording swansong. The neat closure of the record’s final song “Paraguay” supports the proposition…and don’t writers love that sort of shit. If “Post Pop Depression” is Iggy’s “LA Woman” - and a shambolic Jim Morrison performance with the Doors in Detroit had a big impact on Teenage Jim – then it’s a shutting of the creative loop.
Outsiders - Heath Cullen (Five By Nine Records)
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- By Robert Brokenmouth
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This is surely the disc which will finally break Heath Cullen in Australia, and the hearts of women everywhere. Hugely talented (Cullen produced the disc, and it sounds just lush and fine and crisp), the man has a knack of gathering like-minded musicians who just happen to share his dark and mystical streak.
Comparisons abound; a friend who is a big Cullen fan spots a Hugo Race-like similarity. I doubt that’s intended; more like Cullen and Race have visited the same horse races…
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