Pinky Beecroft and The WhiteRussians @ The AnnandaleHotel, Sydney (20/09/08)

Thu 25th Sep, 2008 in Gig Reviews

What a change a new-fangled band can make. For me, Pinky Beecroft as part of Machine Gun Fellatio was irreplaceable; not even worth discussing as a possible re-embodiment in any other band. Thankfully, Pinky Beecroft together with The White Russians continues to wander from wicked to wanton, weaving a mélange of monkey business into a musical context. He still maintains those small pinches of romanticism that leave nice little bruises upon your senses, only now he does it without the discombobulating antics and the cardinal get-up.

The cancellation of Sydney’s Sean Casey left Melbourne’s five-piece pop/sweat rock exponents, The Inches, to take over the reins for the entire support slot. In launching their debut album, Sugar City, they started off in Dodge-City but rocked up through the ranks to take charge and get into the mood. The room noticeably got fuller, dancers appeared down front and in accomplishing the livelier dynamic it altered the energy of the band’s lead singer/guitarist and the band followed suit.

Strong vocals and bantering with the audience he shamelessly punched the air like Springsteen and played his guitar he-demon style. Though the keyboard sounds were obscured by the whopping blur of guitar blasts for the first quarter the situation was rectified by the end showcasing the player’s cohesive ability to find a place amongst the noise.

Enter the headliners also showcasing their debut album, Somethin’ Somewhere Better. Pinky, dressed vaguely as a preppy Year 9 schoolboy, starts physically looking for something that’s obviously lost midway through the first song. At song’s end he chews over the loss of the cowbell, putting it down to the band’s budget that doesn’t extend to having one on the Sydney leg of the tour. I guess that meant he was stuck playing fruity rhythmic keyboard sounds all night but it’s something he aces quite well.

“Let’s do something slow and moody…we’re in Sydney,” he drawls, whereby Someone for Everyone unfurls, followed by Tear It Down To Make You Happy, “a song about your flat in high density housing as you deal with your broken toaster oven instead of being able to stalk the one you love!”

A valiant reinterpretation of Unsent Letter with brash melodies and a driving rhythm at up-tempo arrangement generates a pushy urgency sounding nothing at all like its former introspective glory. The audience loves it but at this point I’m a little unsure.

However, the rock bonhomie is intoxicating and it heightens as they unleash Duran Duran’s Girls on Film, for me to momentarily forget what I’d just heard, and collectively we all found our dancing feet. The New Miss Sweden is played, flaunting Beecroft’s usual affinity for lusty rhetoric, whilst Sunflowers, a sprawling epic in proportions, stood out for the night.

The 3 White Russians were hot to trot in establishing their instincts as performers with enviable musicianship. The unyielding and impressive energy of uber-drummer Christian McBride and bassist Ben T, who creatively leapt about pounding note for note, are worthy of deeply felt praise. Lead guitarist, Nick Stewart, luxuriated in his ability to steal the show on occasion, with guitar prowess so fierce he could possibly dismantle the dominant power structures of society with his strumming patterns.

With an encore of Blondie’s Call Me and MGF’s I Dance Electric, everybody had worked up nicely to sweat-stained levels. So, it took me 12 months, but in finally catching up with the live experience of Pinky Beecroft and The White Russians, the band were quick to give and the audience even quicker to grab and get off on it – myself included.