Kicking off the night was (_FAT_) from Brisbane, with their fast, pounding solid rock, fast strumming bass lines, well rounded off with some screamed lyrics. These four blokey blokes pumped out Husker Du infused powerhouse tunes one after another in a punchy no nonsense set.
No Brown around yet, but the pressure starts to build.
The Vee Bees
No prizes for guessing what the obsession is for these guys. More blokey blokes from Queanbeyan having a rollicking rocking good time jumping around and yelling at each other with a bit of drunken buffoonery. There was plenty of hard bass and guitar with the odd wah lick thrown in for good measure. This was classic ‘Aussie yob rock‘ at its best (thanks Judge Jimmi for that definition).
There were no surprises in signature tunes like “Gonna rock your liver”, and “Drive through Bottl’o“. They describe their driving powerful rock as “3 chord, dumb arse, punk’n’rock’n’roll”…… and it sure was.
Oh, and they like saying FUCK a lot.
I could sense the Brown Note lurking.
Then came the Meatbeaters. More blokes but this time from Adelaide. A bit more of a sinister edge to the night. No nonsense rock with a heavy heavy edge – not for the feint hearted. Drums guitars and bass, clinical guitar riffs filled out by the rhythm section to form a massive wall of noise. The gravelly lyrics were spat out at the audience, beating us into submission.
There was a bit of channelling of Lemmy from Motorhead for a couple of covers that gave a huge clue to what gets played on rotation in the tour bus.
The hard and heavy rock set was rounded off with what seemed to be a crowd favourite and maybe a cry for help – A cunt of a band.
The floor was turning Brown
A brief bit of silence, or what was actually my tinnitus kicking in and then the volume was pushed to 11 as Rust hit the stage.
Where did Oi punk go? Looks like it walked up the road from Sydney Park and right through the door of the Marrickville Bowlo tonight.
Lots of noise with their over driven punk rock and wonderful on stage antics by an ADHD vocalist that looked like he ate anger for breakfast.
This was straight up street oi punk rock, complete with mohawks and tatts; and didn’t the crowd love it. An all ages mosh, beer cascading from tables and heads, making the floor a skating rink, all added to the spectacle of propelling bodies of all shapes and sizes around the room.
Finally the Brown Note found its mark, but this time it was on stage behind the drum kit, with only a butt plug to hold it back!