tasmania

2019 is shaping up to be a real terror of a year. Parts of Australia are in the middle of a housing, job and health support crisis and the shit has well and truly hit the fan.

Heads of police are on trial for brutality, while politicians are dragging their feet on whether or not trans people have a right to exist.  Bodybuilders are shooting up strip clubs and a massive methamphetamine epidemic is destroying the lives of vulnerable young people.

Young men with schizophrenia are firebombing punk squats while teaching staff and metro workers are routinely striking, grinding workplaces and services to a halt.  On the street, there are hundreds of young people facing homelessness, violence, unemployment and lack of future prospects.  To them, the future is bleak. 

Despite all this, there are dozens of vibrant young artists creating challenging and unique works that directly tackle the horrendous and wretched world we find ourselves in.  One of those bands is Fern Tree, Tasmania, iconoclasts All The Weathers.

Born in the Suburbs – Suburban Urchins (Aeroplane Records)

The concept of “let’s get the band back together” isn’t new. Not by any stretch. And the thought of yet another obscure ‘80s garage rock crew reassembling and trumpeting how good they were/are doesn’t automatically fill anyone with confidence.

Of course, the proof of the pudding is always in the eating. If only every band’s midlife crisis sounded this good.

Suburban Urchins were a mid-‘80s band from Hobart, the epicentre of a small but fevered Tasmanian underground music scene that notably spawned The Philisteins, with whom they shared stages.

Give Me Another Hœur Please God - Woolworths Flu Shot (Self released)

There is nothing more pathetic than boomers who lament there are no decent bands anymore.

Sure, they’re not as bad as the ones who go on about shitty, awful tribute cover bands populated by burned-out has-beens, or those people who think |godawful vineyard gigs with heritage acts responsible for the worst Australian music of the 1980s are somehow relevant.

Don’t listen to any of them. Some of the edgiest, toughest and most inventive bands are Gen Z. OK, it’s sometimes like panning for gold to find the nuggets of wildness, but they are out there.

It was a Wednesday night a few weeks ago when I dropped into the legendary and edgy Nimbin Hotel in Far Northern New South Wales. I entered to the sound of blisteringly loud noise as the bar’s floorboards shook.