Number One Hits: Overview of Hobart's Underground

Since I’m back in Tasmania I thought I’d better re-acquaint myself with what the kids are up to down here. I’ve been languishing at the Old Folks’ home and haven’t been able to make to Hobart to see any shows. So I picked up this recent local compilation to whet the appetite and get a handle on a few of the bands around now.

This is a local compilation, made by local people. But you’re all welcome to it. You can read here about the origins of the music, how the songs fit in regard to ‘punk’ and what that might mean in Hobart.

Me, I’m just a willing ear . . .

The quality of each bands’ recording varies quite spectacularly. And in some ways the value of the recording is more telling than the tunes themselves. We get everything from live cuts to bedroom jobs to slicker studio works. It may bespeak much of the bands and individual members. Their methods become as much a part of the song as a drum fill, a botched lyric or a ravaged bassline: all necessary, all equal parts of the whole.

Naked’s “Run At Me” opens proceeding with an apparently aching desire for pain with an added dash of hurt. The front guy moans to run at him and, in no uncertain terms, to fuck him up.  It has one of those awkward middle 8’s where half the band forgets that it’s coming: the sound just drops away to a two note line. Then the moaning begins again. Four quick clicks and back to the refrain: driven into your ear like a blunt spike.

Track three, “God v Evil” puts Traitor closer to Napalm Death than Dead Kennedys: caustic metal rather than raucous punk rock. Metal blood runs deep and thick: other cuts from Strictly Business, NowyourefuckeD and Social Death Squad all take elements from hardcore and grind metal and pulverise their chosen songs as far as their bedroom four-tracks will allow.

A jaunty little self-hate rant from This Is A Robbery! has the singer gloating “You are a picture perfect princess/And all I am’s a stupid cunt.” Another dose of self-deprecation taken to its logical, poetic extreme. Could be misconstrued as a lonely broken Tasmanian looking out to the wider world and all its wonder then cutting hisself off at the knees rather than walk into its open arms.

“Forget” by myblackson – song that reminds me most of The Horror. Plenty noisy, plenty amateur, a brevity towards lyric-writing that cuts the song short before the two-minute mark. I could’ve easily enjoyed another couple of them. Minutes. Or tracks. I could easily enjoy another couple of tracks from these guys.

 “I Got It”, track eight by Treehouse, coulda been pinched from a mid-80’s Kiwi compilation. The drummer might lose the rest of the band a couple of times but the driving guitar line propels the song towards the steamy cloud-o-sphere.

Pure up-beat pop joy comes courtesy of The Lucky Dips. Melodic, major-keyed – stands out very cheery against the bleaker type tunes. All about lovely love turned dangerous obsession. Well, kinda dangerous but really a whole lot of fun. It’s two minutes of jangly blissness.

Moe Grizzly are allowed a live recording. “Sincere Neighbour” is properly dark and menacing. Reggie leans into the mic and sneers and snarls, pulling raw untuneable notes from his guitar. It’s broke down, down beat; slow and heavy on the brain.

Maybe the compilation captures a moment in time. Maybe some of the players should’ve spent more time with their instruments before committing their songs to tape. Maybe to that they’d tell you to fuck right off. Maybe what matters more down here is to get your ideas down, get your songs out there before that moment goes.

First Five Songs on Shuffle

Not sure what's happened to the text here. Computers hating on me again. Makes me look hopelessly unprofessional. Just drag your cursor over the offending sections for full reading pleasure. Now . . .

This morning I fired up the old MP3 machine and hit the shuffle button. Here’s what happened and where my mind went.

No. 1: The Electric Prunes – “Are You Loving Me More?”

Palm-muted guitar makes me think strongly of Astronomy Domini. The swoop and swirl of the chorus. Then the songs slows, almost stops. You’ve got no idea where they’re going. Until, oh thank fuck, it’s still a pop song. Another chorus then a quiet freak out that probably should’ve been faded out. You can forgive them though. Come on, it was the sixties, a glorious time when the acid was strong and the sun was, for some, still underground.

No. 2: Roxy Music – “Avalon”

This song is about leaving the house at 5 a.m. after the party’s cooled down, walking your waif-like mistress toward the beach, taking your shoes off and untucking the tux. The two of you stumble along the cold sand to stand where the tiny bubbling waves lick your toes. You kiss and, as you pull away from her, you notice some fine coke-dust on her upper lip. She hides her face but you laugh and say it doesn’t matter and you take her bodily and hoist her into the light sea breeze as the edge of the sun appears orange on the horizon.

At least that what it sounds like.

No. 3: Althea & Donna – “Uptown Top Ranking”

Always use this one at a party to cool things down. I’ll spark up a fatty and give the kids on the floor time to breathe and start a slow skank and grind. Wedged in between “Funky Kingston” and “Mirror In The Bathroom.” Full skanking explosion. Wind it up, pull it back, push it back up.

I was sure for a while they were singing ‘Not Pablo style – us strictly roots’. But they surely wouldn’t be ripping into Mr Augustus, dub- melodica master. Lyrics are closer to ‘Nah pop no style, a strictly roots.’ According to lyrics playground at least. Who’re probably more sober than I seeing as they’ve tracked lines like ‘Shoulda see me and the ranking dread/Check how we jamming and ting,’ and ‘See me inna ‘alter back/Sey me gi’ you heart attack.’

Althea and Donna where two Jamaican schoolgirls when they cut this track. It was an answer record to Trinity’s “Three Piece Suit.” John Peel got excited about it one English winter and it went to No. 1 in the UK in February of ’78.

No. 4: Fleetwood Mac – “Second Hand News”

I’m glad this one came up. The reasons are twofold.

Since watching the ‘Classic Albums’ episode on Rumours, I’ve had pretty much every song from the album in my head. And because the universe is against me, when I went to the iPod to exorcise the songs from circling my skull, the player wouldn’t play it. It’s just tease me with the first twenty seconds of each song then shit itself.

The other reason I’m glad this came up is because there has been a shift in the enjoyment of Fleetwood Mac. Many moons ago, in my younger years, during days of polarising opinion and swift but lasting judgement of cool, Fleetwood Mac were not at all enjoyed. Maybe it was that Rumours was massive in the late 70’s and was up against punk and its tenets. Rockstar excess, inter-band fucking, coke and California. Can’t think of many pale, emaciated white boys who tackled those subjects back then. Suppose they were more worried about being wiped off the face of the earth by a nuclear wind.

And the story would’ve got stale after a while. “You know they were all either getting it on or falling apart when they wrote the song s - listen.” Someone’s annoying parents would say when they find out you were into music, foisting the album on you. “Yeah. Real music, Mum. Not that pap.” You’d respond with appropriate snottiness.

Then there is a gap in time long enough for all that shit to be forgotten about. You get guys like Robin Pecknold admitting that Lindsay Buckingham being a huge influence on his own guitar playing. Or you’ll be out one summer evening in Sydney and the last song the DJ spins before Beach House arrive on stage is “Dreams.”

Maybe after a certain amount of time the stories become myth or just unimportant in the face of the songs. Which still stand up today. Except for that ‘bamp bamp ba bamp bamp’ bit at the middle and end of this one. That’s just stupid.

If you listen carefully and oh so closely to the first five seconds of “Second Hand News” they’re pretty close to the beginning of Zeppelin IV and “Black Dog”’s odd scratchy whirring noise. Like a jukebox that a quarter’s been dropped into. Or an amp warming up. Solid way to start an album, I guess.

No. 5: Hüsker Dü – “Lifeline”

Pretty much every song should start like this:

“Aaarght!!!”

You know you’re in trouble right from the start. It should be noted that this song was not named for the local telephone service for people who just need someone to talk to.