To The Bone – Copulaters (self released)
If you gave it any thought at all, you might guess that I love music. For me, it's somewhere between everyday blessing and salvation, this vast, extraordinary tapestry which occurs all around us and will never end (whether we humans are here to appreciate it or not).
The flipside of this are supermarkets, shops and eateries, all of whom seem to think that what we really want is to be bludgeoned with their usually-shitty taste in music.
“Oh, pooh” is often the response to my helpless wail. “What's your taste in music like?” Which ain't the point: if I was running a business which depended on foot-traffic I wouldn't be shovelling my musical taste at them, and certainly not at a volume which forces people to have their brain bludgeoned.
As a slight aside from the shit-shovelling supermarkets, my dad was a brickie. Even so, he loved music. During school holidays when mum was at work, occasionally he had to take me to work with him. I often wondered how he dealt with the torrent of appalling rubbish blaring from his workmate's radios, week in, week out.
The endlessly blathering DJs, their eternally relentless "C'est la vie"-esque bonhomie, and the shitfully annoying adverts squawking and carrying on like pork chops in whisky. Listen up, all you 'wasn't our generation the best' dickheads: you can't tell me that mainstream radio back in the ‘70s was good. It might have been where you were.
But not where we were. In Adelaide, occasionally you'd hear a good song but mostly it was the usual dreck in the style of the day. Hell, “Baked Beans” by Mother Goose was as rock'n'roll as it got on mainstream radio.
The style of today's pop seems bereft of tune, hook and more or less anything else: all I hear is a sort of yowling - the vocals never seem to bloody stop. They're like those awful one-sided arguments one hears the neighbours in - you just want to dump buckets of water on the squabblers and tell them to go their separate ways.
Speaking of going separate ways, which I suppose I wasn't really but that's as good an introduction as I can manage on a damp day so get used to it, about a month ago I was in Melbourne and caught Adelaide's mighty Fear and Loathing at the Wheat, Wine and Whisky Bar.
Now, Fear and Loathing merit an article sometime this year simply because they are the most contrary and determined bunch of Adelaideans I know and I think the world should come to know them as I do.
The WWW Bar is a lovely new joint at 284 Smith St, Collingwood, well within rational tram distance from the city, has a fine selection of single malt whiskies and the food is extremely good. They also had a collection of games which I was able to indulge - Rosey Zuljic introduced to the game of Backgammon, which I had never played and which I thoroughly enjoyed (despite many irritated glares from her as she tried to teach me, as I'm a bit of a clod).
Eventually proceedings began in the downstairs section and I was quite delighted by one of the bands playing just before Fear and Loathing: Copulaters.
opulaters. Len Weigh photo.
The singer, one P. N. Lindsay, will probably be known to you from Melbourne punker outfit Vicious Circle. The Copulaters' guitarist, Adam Shirley, has been playing in Vicious Circle for at least the last 14 years.
Now, while I did see Vicious Circle in the 1980s, “for some reason” the details elude me except to say that I probably enjoyed them as there just weren't a lot of really good straightforward punk bands at the time so they, like the magisterial and forceful Permanent Damage, rather stuck out like dog's testes on a birthday cake.
Also, when Rosey mentioned, “Oh, that's Paul from Vicious Circle”, I was curious. So, armed with the longest set list I have ever, ever seen, the band hammered through what must have been two dozen songs, each quite different from the previous, and with Paul moving from the safety of the stage into the crowd. So very carefully structured and organised were the songs that the notion of “hardcore haiku” sprung to mind.
If I had to compare them, I suppose “a poppier early MDC” might suit; but honestly, the songs are blunt, brisk, ferociously involving, terribly catchy with more than a daub of brute force and, as soon as you've realised what you're listening to, it's over and you're sliding down the next one.
Listen up, suckers: Copulators make a huge impact, and I cannot emphasise that enough. They're fucking amazing.
Because, these days the airlines really do check the weight of your baggage, and I knew I was very, very close to that limit. (What to leave behind? Talcum powder, skin cream, apples... you know?) So, as Paul had mentioned that they had actual records for sale, after the show I asked if I could order one. Just contact them on Bandcamp.
So, back in Adelaide and after recovering from a couple of colds, I ordered “To The Bone” which turns out to be the band's first LP. The Bandcamp page declares: "This album was recorded 12 March 2024 at Goatsound Studios, Melbourne, Australia in one day with engineering and mixing duties performed by Jason Fuller",and "the main objective was fun, nothing complicated, just a bunch of mates hammering out tunes in a factory, kicking up a racket, this is the result."
Right, well. I don't want to take up your time by describing the music too much, except there are 12 tracks, with the longest two songs just under a minute.
Yep, that's right. These songs are incredibly short, and there's so very, very much power and punch to them; as I've indicated, there's a lot going on in there. You barely have time to catch your breath before you're wriggling with another one. And then another. It's a really, really fantastic sensation seeing such a determined, clever, tight performance.
Then you read the lyrics on the inner sleeve. Concise, pointed, barbed, and that's all you really need. The band get your attention and hold it, and by the end of the first side your housemates have to peel you off the wall.
On paper, I suppose you'd be forgiven for expecting more bang for your buck - but I'm here to tell you that quality ain't founded on length (no matter how many Rocco Siffredi video nasties you watch). Truth is that what Copulaters are doing is quite spectacular, and they make a hell of an impact.
I don't know if they're unique in this attitude, nor do I much care. All I know is: Copulaters absolutely fuckin' rock and you need this band in your library, digital or on vinyl.
Get copulated here. While you're there, you can pick up their second LP, “Headless Surfer” but be warned, compared to “To The Bone'”a few of its songs are of “epic length” (heh, none are over 1.45).
