April Overload 4 - Dallas Crane & UNEXPECTED TIM ROGERS
I was feeling horrible last night and almost didn't so glad. I'm so glad I did. I saw two great new bands, one which I thought was a new band but turned out to be Tim Rogers, and what will probably be the final performance from a bunch of Melbourne legends.
After the closure last year, there's something especially exciting about seeing the Tote full of people and jumping, and on a Sunday afternoon last year. The doors opened at 3; baorin_lee and I got there at 4 and the first band still hadn't started playing, yet the place was already so alive. Good to see.
Dirty York
My first impression of Dirty York was... well, I was sitting on the old red velvet couch that gradually disappears under a pile of instruments as a Tote gig wears on, sipping a pot of cider, wondering why the first band were now half an hour late getting on stage when three of the four members of Dirty York stopped in front of me having a whispered conference in which they were struggling to remember their own lyrics. Or maybe it was the lyrics to 'American Pie'; I did hear the phrase "eight miles high and falling fast" at one point. I just gave them an encouraging grin and admired their beards.
Ten minutes later they were on stage belting out some excellent classic rock material. Dirty York aren't going to change the face of Australian music and they didn't blow my mind, but they play good, straightforward rock songs and they do it with energy and skill. I wouldn't pay $30 just for them at this stage, but they're the kind of the thing I like to listen to on a Sunday afternoon.
Buried Horses
I only half heard the first half of Buried Horses' set because B and I went to sit outside, where we partook of the free barbecue and I did some sketching because I have an odd fascination with the Tote's beer garden. Several other patrons came up behind me and said "WHAT ARE YOU DRAWING?" and made me jump, but that's nice in a way. I should sketch at gigs all the time, it starts conversations. Hell, I should just sketch all the time. Nothing wrong with filling an entire book with chimneys, trees and cobwebs, right?
Anyway, we went back inside eventually and the music was quite interesting. Buried Horses were a bit more esoteric than the rest of the bands on the bill, more on the odd and experimental side than the power chords and rock affirmations, with the extra weirdness of a lead singer who looked exactly like Ned Kelly. It wasn't music to dance too, but once I got into the groove of it I found something strangely evocative about their music. It made me want to paint desert landscapes. I DON'T KNOW, OKAY.
"The Gung Hoes"/TIM ROGERS
B and I went for our traditional mid-gig ice-cream run and returned to what I thought would be a band I'd never heard of. I should have twigged, really, because it did occur to me that it was odd that Buried Horses, who have quite a buzz going on the local music scene, were playing before a no-name band. Turns out that's because the bit I missed was apparently Tim Rogers getting up on stage and going LOL J/K IT'S ME!
It wasn't quite this kind of unexpected Tim Rogers:
More like this kind:
B seems to have missed the bit when Tim took his shirt off on stage. Your loss, B, that guy has great tattoos. YEAH PROBABLY ENOUGH TIM ROGERS PORN. The full band was Tim, Davey Lane, Pete from Dallas Crane and one of the Tote sound guys on drums. Tim was playing bass. (!?) They played some kickass rock songs, none of which I'd heard before, and also did 'Hanging on the Telephone' by Blondie which was. Well. Dudes singing Blondie songs will never not be hot. Especially when they're Tim Rogers.
Dallas Crane
Guh, what can I even say? :D :D :D :D Dallas were one of those great Melbourne rock bands who are pub rock legends but were criminally ignored by the commercial world, like Weddings Parties Anything and EVEN. I'd seen them once before when I was in first year at uni, but they were so much better last night, even though they were a bit out of practice. Dave Larkin is like some indecent mix of Patrick Stump's old chubbiness/hat fetish/obliviousness to his own hotness, and the voice of Jimmy Barnes. He's a stunner. The entire band were great - they have some ripping great songs, 'Curiousity' blew the fucking roof off, and they manage to hit that perfect concert vibe. The one where the songs blow you away but the atmosphere makes you feel like you're all friends, and the band have enough chemistry to get into some entertaining verbal sparring, but enough professionalism to know when to stop and to just play really fucking well. I have to briefly resort to dot points:
- There is something admirable about a band that manages to continue performing professionally and without a break, when the singer has to leave the stage to vomit in the beer garden twice during the set.
- Dave returned after his puking adventures to say "If you were planning on blowjobs in the courtyard later, stay away from the back corner."
- Most of the sparring was between Dave and the drummer (who I think was named Shaun? whatever I'll call him Shaun) after Shaun flubbed the drum solo in 'Curiousity'. Common retorts were "These people didn't pay to see a comedy show" "They didn't pay to watch you puke either" "I'm the singer, I get the last word" *loud drum solo while Dave is trying to make a speech* and "How did that solo in 'Curiousity' go again, Shaun?" followed by a descending 'fail' sound effect on guitar.
- I loved the way Dave suddenly went "Hey, where are those sad bastards who have been requesting 'Shit Creek' at every show for like twenty years?" and 'those sad bastards' were all clustered in a group, and cheered, and then Dave talked the rest of the band into playing it even though they all complained. Powderfinger fans dream of getting that kind of love.
- Even the lighting guys were in on the fucking around and would occasionally black the place out or turn all the lights on at once, to be answered with laughter from the audience and a lot of swearing from the band.
This was the first time I've been at a gig and truly seen an encore by audience demand, I think. By the time the band went offstage, Dave pretty much wanted to just lie down on the courtyard flagstones for a while, but everyone just kept cheering until they came back. Then they did three more songs; Dave spent most of the encore with his head on Pete's shoulder looking exhausted, until he suddenly ripped Pete's shirt open at the end of a song. Then they put their instruments down, lined up, put their arms around each others' shoulders and bowed all together.
I'm sorry to see Dallas Crane go, but I'm so glad I was there for that show.
After the closure last year, there's something especially exciting about seeing the Tote full of people and jumping, and on a Sunday afternoon last year. The doors opened at 3; baorin_lee and I got there at 4 and the first band still hadn't started playing, yet the place was already so alive. Good to see.
Dirty York
My first impression of Dirty York was... well, I was sitting on the old red velvet couch that gradually disappears under a pile of instruments as a Tote gig wears on, sipping a pot of cider, wondering why the first band were now half an hour late getting on stage when three of the four members of Dirty York stopped in front of me having a whispered conference in which they were struggling to remember their own lyrics. Or maybe it was the lyrics to 'American Pie'; I did hear the phrase "eight miles high and falling fast" at one point. I just gave them an encouraging grin and admired their beards.
Ten minutes later they were on stage belting out some excellent classic rock material. Dirty York aren't going to change the face of Australian music and they didn't blow my mind, but they play good, straightforward rock songs and they do it with energy and skill. I wouldn't pay $30 just for them at this stage, but they're the kind of the thing I like to listen to on a Sunday afternoon.
Buried Horses
I only half heard the first half of Buried Horses' set because B and I went to sit outside, where we partook of the free barbecue and I did some sketching because I have an odd fascination with the Tote's beer garden. Several other patrons came up behind me and said "WHAT ARE YOU DRAWING?" and made me jump, but that's nice in a way. I should sketch at gigs all the time, it starts conversations. Hell, I should just sketch all the time. Nothing wrong with filling an entire book with chimneys, trees and cobwebs, right?
Anyway, we went back inside eventually and the music was quite interesting. Buried Horses were a bit more esoteric than the rest of the bands on the bill, more on the odd and experimental side than the power chords and rock affirmations, with the extra weirdness of a lead singer who looked exactly like Ned Kelly. It wasn't music to dance too, but once I got into the groove of it I found something strangely evocative about their music. It made me want to paint desert landscapes. I DON'T KNOW, OKAY.
"The Gung Hoes"/TIM ROGERS
B and I went for our traditional mid-gig ice-cream run and returned to what I thought would be a band I'd never heard of. I should have twigged, really, because it did occur to me that it was odd that Buried Horses, who have quite a buzz going on the local music scene, were playing before a no-name band. Turns out that's because the bit I missed was apparently Tim Rogers getting up on stage and going LOL J/K IT'S ME!
It wasn't quite this kind of unexpected Tim Rogers:
More like this kind:
B seems to have missed the bit when Tim took his shirt off on stage. Your loss, B, that guy has great tattoos. YEAH PROBABLY ENOUGH TIM ROGERS PORN. The full band was Tim, Davey Lane, Pete from Dallas Crane and one of the Tote sound guys on drums. Tim was playing bass. (!?) They played some kickass rock songs, none of which I'd heard before, and also did 'Hanging on the Telephone' by Blondie which was. Well. Dudes singing Blondie songs will never not be hot. Especially when they're Tim Rogers.
Dallas Crane
Guh, what can I even say? :D :D :D :D Dallas were one of those great Melbourne rock bands who are pub rock legends but were criminally ignored by the commercial world, like Weddings Parties Anything and EVEN. I'd seen them once before when I was in first year at uni, but they were so much better last night, even though they were a bit out of practice. Dave Larkin is like some indecent mix of Patrick Stump's old chubbiness/hat fetish/obliviousness to his own hotness, and the voice of Jimmy Barnes. He's a stunner. The entire band were great - they have some ripping great songs, 'Curiousity' blew the fucking roof off, and they manage to hit that perfect concert vibe. The one where the songs blow you away but the atmosphere makes you feel like you're all friends, and the band have enough chemistry to get into some entertaining verbal sparring, but enough professionalism to know when to stop and to just play really fucking well. I have to briefly resort to dot points:
- There is something admirable about a band that manages to continue performing professionally and without a break, when the singer has to leave the stage to vomit in the beer garden twice during the set.
- Dave returned after his puking adventures to say "If you were planning on blowjobs in the courtyard later, stay away from the back corner."
- Most of the sparring was between Dave and the drummer (who I think was named Shaun? whatever I'll call him Shaun) after Shaun flubbed the drum solo in 'Curiousity'. Common retorts were "These people didn't pay to see a comedy show" "They didn't pay to watch you puke either" "I'm the singer, I get the last word" *loud drum solo while Dave is trying to make a speech* and "How did that solo in 'Curiousity' go again, Shaun?" followed by a descending 'fail' sound effect on guitar.
- I loved the way Dave suddenly went "Hey, where are those sad bastards who have been requesting 'Shit Creek' at every show for like twenty years?" and 'those sad bastards' were all clustered in a group, and cheered, and then Dave talked the rest of the band into playing it even though they all complained. Powderfinger fans dream of getting that kind of love.
- Even the lighting guys were in on the fucking around and would occasionally black the place out or turn all the lights on at once, to be answered with laughter from the audience and a lot of swearing from the band.
This was the first time I've been at a gig and truly seen an encore by audience demand, I think. By the time the band went offstage, Dave pretty much wanted to just lie down on the courtyard flagstones for a while, but everyone just kept cheering until they came back. Then they did three more songs; Dave spent most of the encore with his head on Pete's shoulder looking exhausted, until he suddenly ripped Pete's shirt open at the end of a song. Then they put their instruments down, lined up, put their arms around each others' shoulders and bowed all together.
I'm sorry to see Dallas Crane go, but I'm so glad I was there for that show.