When Bonde do Role cancelled their Australian tour last year, they’d lost their lead singer Marina and her theme tune had been censored from the Bonds commercials. But a group like Bonde couldn’t possibly just fade away. DJ Gorky and Pedro D’Eyrot did what any group that with a giant laser-eyed Jesus on the cover of their debut album would do – they launched a reality TV show and lassoed in two manic replacements, Laura Taylor and Ana Bernardino. As if they possibly needed any more lunacy in their crew.
The Prince was as empty as a Gameboy Gamegirl lyric, even as the clock pushed ten on this midweek night. It seemed that even though the posters out front claimed the opening act would hit the stage at half nine, most punters knew that with only one EP to their name the Gameboy Gamegirl gang couldn’t possible fill their allotted hour. The foursome eventually staggered out to begin their set with Fruit Salad, highlighting the inane lyrics that have led to NME labelling the group as ‘unquestionably the stupidest band you’ll hear this year’. It’s a badge they’d wear with pride – or at least until their performance mirrored their lyrics, getting too ‘sweaty wet’ or ‘dirty damp’ on stage to keep their gear on. The group may be costumed as ravers dressed by Savers, their leadman Tranter never misses an onstage opportunity to dance about with his shirt off, bouncing his ample girth to the colourful beats. Though, with the bands success, Tranter could well sweat off his trademarked look as they tour under stage lights and media glare.
With his shirt safely back in place Tranter took over on the turntables from DJ Miami Horror to keep the party moving as the crowd slowly built for the headliners. Playing with a hectic abandon Tranter squashed together his tracks with little concern for flow, simply pulling out anything to keep the crowd bubbling away. There was nothing to set up for Bonde, other than a pair of inflatable penguins, but they still kept the punters waiting before finally hitting the Prince stage.
Bonde leapt into the fray with the same ridiculous enthusiasm shown by their support act – launching their attack with the 80s metal riffage of their album opener Dança Do Zumbi. Spitting mouthfuls of beer at each other and eagerly dry-humping each other, the speakers and, of course, the inflatable penguins Bonde put on an infectiously stupid show that combined lewd raps with an eclectic mix of samples that raid the best of any genre that kicks. _Marina Gasolina _ had the punters joining in the chant – even if that was limited to claims that they’d ‘beat you like gorilla’ and the occasional garbled attempt at Portuguese. While Office Boy offered an easier chorus to chant (‘babababababa boy!’) and turned the front rows to a seething mess, but the night truly peaked with a stage invasion by a flock of punters keen to get in on the increasingly sweat and beer soaked action under the stage lights.
Like their support act Bonde’s set broke off all too soon, when they simply run out of material. After giving their only album getting a solid flogging during their set they return for their encore with a skuzzed up attack of Best Fwends Myself – complete with Elijah Wood shout out – and a raucous heavy metal blaze that encouraged Laura to launch herself into the ecstatic punters and get in on the crowd surfing action. Some bands can be watched from the back of a room, pondering the night in chin-stroking assessment – Bonde certainly ain’t one of ‘em. What’s Portuguese for ‘sweaty wet’?
