It was like a scene from a claustrophobic’s darkest nightmare in the Hydey on Friday night, with rugged up Gaslight fans packing out the narrow confines of the local dive, inspired by the brilliance of a yet to be released album. The Gaslight Anthem’s latest album The 59’ Sound doesn’t come out until next month, except everyone has already been listening to it since June. Welcome to the tech savvy net-punk generation. The band wouldn’t be complaining though, they only released their first album last year on independent label, Resist Records and already they are selling out a venue in the most isolated city in the world off the popularity of a download.
It was reassuring to see that local punk is in safe hands when Grim Fandango kicked off the evening. With a sound that sits somewhere between Hot Water Music and Rise Against, the lads played a confident and tight set, using their advertising slot to its full advantage. The 3 tiered throaty vocal line up works well and was helped along by members of their vocal fanclub. It was a set which made unfamiliar ears want to hear more which is exactly how a support set should be.
In contrast to these guys, Gaslight Anthem’s national support, A Death in the Family from Melbourne, did not do themselves justice. It was a loose performance of songs with a bad mix, which did nothing to gain the band any new fans. The crowd was noticeably more interested in conversation and booze after hearing their first song and it remained that way for the rest of their set. Perhaps they were just having an off night, one would hope so for their sake.
The Hydey was the perfect place to stage The Gaslight Anthem underground heroes. With a blue collar feel to it capped off with a pool hall out the back, Carlton Mid on tap and Sky Racing playing on the tv’s out the front, their Springsteen inspired New Jersey punk was right at home. Had it not been for contemporary smoking laws then the cliché would have been complete.
While it is somewhat of an enjoyable novelty when a band plays at ground level, if you’re not more than 6 foot or don’t have it in you to grin and bare an elbow or two to the ribs at the front, then you can’t actually see what the band is doing. So for aesthetic purposes The Gaslight Anthem could definitely have done with some elevation, especially with frontman, Brian Fallon not of the tallest stature. Luckily it’s the music people came for and not a visual spectacle, as the music was nothing short of anthemic punk rock bliss.
Opening with Great Expectations and The 59’ Sound, the crowd was instantly divided into a sea of chanting stationary foot tappers and a small core group of liquored up larrikins tearing up the carpet at the front. It was funny to see the mysterious familiarity the crowd had with these two tracks considering they haven’t been released yet. Gaslight music is music which induces chants, music where it is not uncommon to see someone put their arm around a complete stranger and sing along with their pints of beer raised to the sky. In fact during Blue Jeans and White T Shirts, a working class ballad from the Senor and The Queen EP, the wild ones at the front enjoyed a moment of solitude and formed a chain across the front. Arms linked to shoulders, they resembled a footy team embracing the national anthem before the start of a big game. Good on em.
The majority of the set was taken from the EP and last year’s Sink or Swim, despite punters yelling out for tracks from The 59’ Sound, which Fallon grinned at and replied with “shh you guys aren’t meant to know that till August 12th”. The wicked thing about these smaller shows is the banter between crowd and band that they allow for. A cheeky quip was made from a guy in a Springsteen shirt at Fallon about the Bruce Springsteen similarity and Fallon’s reponse in a dry New Jersey accent was “yeh and now that guy’s knockin’ at my door looking for songs”. A classic moment which the crowd heartily cheered for.
Punters showed their hands during Senor and the Queen, sang “alright alright” during Wooderson and were not alright to drive, but gave it their all during Drive. By the time Boomboxes and Dictionaries came round to close the set, the crowd smugly knew they had witnessed a rare show from a band with a fucking awesome talent for songwriting.
