Front End Loader, Roshambo,Dick Nasty, The ShrewmS @ TheStepp Inn, Brisbane(12/03/2008)

Wed 16th Apr, 2008 in Gig Reviews

For many, Front End Loader are the one-hit wonders behind mid-90’s death-ballad Pulse (although if this is you, I recommend you check out the masterpiece How Can We Fail When We’re So Sincere?), so it was refreshing to see a solid crowd turn out for tonight’s dirty rock and punk show. Even more refreshing was to see Front End Loader put on a solid set of intense rock – it’s always good to know some of those mid-90s Aus-rock bands are still doing what they do best.

Four-piece The ShrewmS open tonights show with a tawdry set of dirty punk- and blues- infected rock. There’s a few rock archetypes up on stage; the quietly brooding guitar player who wears a cowboy hat and never says a word sits perfectly alongside the crazy drummer wearing an aviator hat and braces. The venue is almost empty, so the applause is muted, but the ShrewmS battle on, thrashing through their vibrant set. They might not be world-beaters, but there are worse ways to open a Saturday night gig.

Dick Nasty thrash through a set of their short, sharp punk songs with their usual reckless abandon. Cuffy on drums takes a few songs to really get into the spirit, but there’s more then enough punk intensity to carry the set. The true wonder of Nasty’s material is that, even though the songs usually end around the 90 second mark, they are often complete songs, with verses, choruses and bridges. It all just happens a lot faster than usual. Ordinarily they might be the most ramshackle act on a night, but they’re about to be blown out of the water.

Roshambo’s set, to use the definition lightly, is a complete shambles. It’s more of a slapstick comedy than a musical act, and while there are less entertaining things than musical slapstick, it also drags on too long, causing a delay overall to the night. It takes ten minutes (after the rest of the band are on stage) for the drummer to join them, at which point all the band members begin getting high on nitrous, as do several crowd members, and one particularly jovial security guard. A heckling mic has been set up in front of stage, for the crowd to use, and the lead guitarist spends large amounts of time trying to get his guitar to work before realising it’s not turned on. There’s a few speed-punk songs thrown in to maintain the ilusion of music, but by the end of the set, most of the band members are too toasted to keep it together. The wierdest moment comes mid-set, when they reveal they’ve sold a slot in their set to a punter for 50 bucks. The punter then gets up and lays down some cool guitar riffs, accompanied by Roshambo’s drummer showing the most musical element of their set, doing some improvised drumming. But when the song shows no signs of ending, the house has to start flashing the lights to get the punter off the stage. To steal a quote from Nic Cage, on any other night, that might seem strange. But tonight it’s just par for the course.

Front End Loader seem almost placid by comparison to what’s come before them, but that’s the only way that they could be considered placid. It’s nice to see rock which is a little more structured and controlled, but still high energy. Davis Claymore delivers his vocals with vitriolic intensity, while co-frontman Bowden Campbell is slightly more melodic in his delivery, and the two of them work perfectly together, like the veterans that they are. Tonight’s gig celebrates the release of Laughing With Knives, a mammoth double album with a live disc and a disc of B-sides. It might be tempting to rest on the laurels of that release, but Loader are made of tougher stuff, sprinkling their set with new songs (hopefully from an upcoming release). A lot of these new songs seem to be based around chunky riffs from Claymore, and although they’re a little messy in the execution, it’s reassuring to know that someone is still out there writing great pub rock.

There’s plenty of classic material in here too. Although Pulse is conspicuous by it’s absence (although if I were them, I’d probably be sick of playing it too), the crowd is treated to fantastic versions of I Will Not Die and How Can We Fail When We’re So Sincere, as well as Another Hatchet Job. The crowd is now packed in tight to the murky Stepp Inn and is giving the band everything they can, although one punter’s misguided attempted to crowd surf ends with himself on the floor in no time flat. They wrap up the main set with speed-rock number All I Wanted Was A Cigarette, before returning to play the first song they ever wrote, Weak As Piss. They get a rousing reward from a crowd which sticks around hoping for a second encore. When none is forthcoming, the audience spills out onto the street, their appetite for tight Aus-rock well and truly sated.