The Pingers come from the Snowy Mountains, a place in the Alpine Region of New South Wales where tunnel boring machines go to die. Most of the residents are ancient or transient. A handful are dead, so there’s nowhere for a punk band to play.

In winter, the joint is infested with snowboarding hipsters and Double Bay snow bunnies, and the price of everything is pegged to the Gucci Index.  By the time what passes for (the legal) white powder thaws, it’s invaded by vegans with kids who spend days sucking down clean, green mountain air as they wander along poorly signposted walking tracks. By then, anyone with a modicum of sense has flocked like lemmings to the coast to stay in overcrowded caravan parks wedged like buttplugs between MacMansions that are maintained as weekenders by Canberra public servants. 

No wonder The Pingers have a song called "Shroom Mates". They're punks, not virtuosos, and they can’t spell subtlety.

Teagz doesn’t sing as much as harangue like a Millennial version of your mother-in-law. When Casey chips in with a vocal, he sounds like that drunk from nextdoor hanging over the back fence to put in his 10 cents’ worth (it used to three but we live in inflationary times.)  Therein lies the juvenile and, it must be said, often puerile charm.

The songs are dead simple but rendered well. Tighter than a guppy’s butt and much more hygienic. No-frills production If you want a lyrical taste, here’s “Broke Again”:

I’m blacked out
I’m broke again
I blew my money
On coke again 

If you’re looking for “Dark Side Of The Moon”, boy, are you in the wrong place. If you complained, Pink Floyd would advise you to have a cigar. The Pingers would tell you to go blow yourself.

When it all comes down to tin tacks, where else are you going to hear a song called “Foreskins and Buttholes” with a chorus that the neighbors can enjoy?

The Pingers are Amyl and the Sniffers for punks who don’t like brand endorsements. Unlike The Chats, you won't read about them in Rolling Fucking Stone.

It’s on mottled green vinyl and on the disruptive Evil Tone label out of Sydney. Get your fun here.  

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