Saturday night at the Gaelic Club was hopefully the first of many for the venue as they played host to a ska vs rockabilly shootout. True to title, it was a loud night from the first beat.
The youngest group and first onstage, Steppin’ Razor’s fresh faces attracted the kind of crowd who come early and stay until the end, the dedicated. By the time Monster Go Go got going it seemed like everyone had arrived but were too shy and sober to step onto the dance floor. Looking for somewhere to rest my drink I met Mick, a man with a glint in his eye and a very close shave. He and his wife had left the kids at home and made the long journey out from Cabramatta. His brother had always been into rockabilly, and was good mates with Wes, of Wes Pudsey and the Sonic Aces.
As they started to play I figured that his brother was probably into dancing as well. Suddenly it seemed like everyone was into dancing. Into their third song there was at least six couples vying for swing dance champion, including old timers, chic Surry Hills types, boys in All Star shoes. Left, left, right, right, twirl your partner, step aside. Right on rockabilly. But just when I got so busy watching I forgot to listen, the boys tripped me up with a reggae track. You could tell these guys knew their stuff but not so well that they’d start to bore the crowd, or each other. They win the prize for audience participation. And Wes wins the prize for best coiffure. Onya Wes.
Limpin’ Jimmy and the Swingin’ Kitten kept the dancefloor warm while Backy Skank set up. With two guitar players, bass, two singers, keyboard, horn, trombone and drums, they really fill up a stage. They were older, too, and fatter, and vocalists Simon ‘The Pieman’ Smith and ‘Uncle’ Pete Wilson wore skinny black glasses and red collared shirts. They looked like old men who liked to roar, which is kind of how they sounded. The swing dancers stood aside and made room for all these kids with loose clothing and long hair who liked to do their own thing on the dance floor. The men roared. The kids skanked backwards and forwards. I realised that these were the kind of men who put effort into their appearance but still look like men. I thought about their appearance because some of the rhythms were coming undone, or pulling in different directions. But the kids didn’t seem to mind.
Next up to bat were the Casino Rumblers, who bought on stage with them quite a few cans of red bull. They had energy. While many audience members had taken off their dance shoes, these boys weren’t relaxing. They took to performance like a five year old with his first football, grabbing it and running. At times I could barely focus on the stage, my eye was following the silver glint of the lead vocalist’s double bass as he twisted it sideways, swung it above his head, and slid it through his legs. Just like the dance partner I’ve always wanted to be.
The earnest pleasure of these guys at play really grabbed me, and the songs weren’t bad either. The rhythms were focused but not too tight, still a bit raw and messy, a bit more pub than parlour. And fair enough too.
While the numbers for this ska to rockabilly shootout were too few to fill up the Gaelic, it just left everybody more room for dancing, instruments, hair: the elements of a “fightin”’ good night.
