The place is a sauna, and its 9:15pm. I love you South Australia, you sadistic bitch...
J, Lou and Murph start fiddling around with their respective weapons without so much as a glance toward us. I figured this was gonna be a proper jam. Beginning with thumb, right off the bat they were ripping.
Man alive, J can play the guitar. Murph beats the skins like they owe him money and Lou did some of the prettiest base slapping and tickling - just all round 'owning his craft' raddness.
The lyrics were unintelligible, which I remember was the case 20 years ago when I saw them last. It's the music, the sheer wall of noise that these men put out that is the gift! This bearded old gent in front of me wearing a bowler hat stage left was completely loosing his shit, and I agreed with him whole heartedly. We were getting treated to some real nar!
The long time fans of the group left the gov well stoked while the new comers had a look that can only be described as confused. So all in all, it was pretty much the sickest thing that I've heard since last night.
You see friends, I've spent the last three weeks at Bonython Park setting up and breaking down Soundwave (now I'm on to Future Music) and while I was treated to some amazing music there by a shitload of legends, I still feel the pub down the road offered me more.
Jaded? Nah, just stoked mate.
Thank you J, thank you Murph, fuck yeah Lou! You've given my daydreaming a kick in the nuts.
Bugger this, I'm going for a skate...
Review by Beau Williams
Photos by Melissa Donato