Hell Hath No Fury...- Chickenstones (self released)
As they say at well-to-do sailing clubs on Sydney's north side: "I like the cut of their jib."
As they say at well-to-do sailing clubs on Sydney's north side: "I like the cut of their jib."
In a barely lit corner of the Sandringham Hotel in Sydney, the Barman slides me a white plastic bag stuffed full of CDs. I peek inside. Veteran tour manager Peter Ross looks on, shaking his head. “Those poor bastards,” he mutters.
Another day, another re-release of some apparently fabled recordings from the late '70s and early '80s. Because, you know, everything from back then was like totally rad, man. All them cool guys. Not one of them was an ex art school hippy chancing his way on the next bandwagon.
This week's rhetorical question is about bands singing in faux Irish accents with traditional Celtic instruments, mixing it up with banjos, strings, pipes and punk rawk guitars. The query is: "Do we need 'em?" The quick answer is: "I'll get back to ya." From your perspective I know that's it's not really good enough so I'll spend the next 400 words so telling you how albums like this get to exist in the first place.
Who says the French don't "get" rock and roll? There's plenty of evidence to the contrary - especially on these two albums from Brittany power trio Ultra Bullitt, who are coming to Australia in 2013 to show us how it's done.
Melbourne songstress Crystal Thomas has woken up in too many emergency ward beds for her own good. Next time you or I do the same, let this album be playing in the background.