Johnny Cash Tribute Night @Empire, 17/12/05

Thu 22nd Dec, 2005 in Gig Reviews

If the capacity crowd in attendance tonight was anything to go by, it was obvious to all that we were in for a night of rip-roaring fun. I’ve never seen The Empire this packed, filled with a vast array of Johnny Cash fans who’ve come out of the woodwork to witness some of Sydney’s finest up-and-coming rock outfits pay homage to the Man in Black. And the variety of the line-up mirrored the audience, running the gamut of balls out rock, horror punk, country tinged bush punk and psychobilly.

The volume of people in attendance tonight made it obvious that this was indeed a popular event, but the management had over packed the venue much to the detriment and comfort of the punters.

First up were Darkest Day and I had to admit I didn’t get a chance to see them due to the shit fight at the bar. By the time my diminutive self got to the front of the service area, Darkest Day had finished their all too brief half hour set and I was grumpy from the long queue time. Though, I will say that the band sounded good through the muffle of people. I asked around and the general consensus was that Darkest Day was indeed a worthy addition to the line up, offering a dash of Misfits-inspired punk into the mix.

Time for Triangle. This trio are comparable to Italian cola – an acquired taste – but I think their kookiness and left-field approach to the idea of a Johnny Cash Tribute was both inventive and certainly gave the evening a comical bent. Triangle attempted to mount a war on the epic Cash song 25 Minutes to Go, and they proved victorious. The song comprised their entire set. Whether they did this because they’re lazy or creative, who’s to say, but whoever said that Primus-inspired art rock noodling doesn’t have a place in a rock n roll environment is clearly a Triangle virgin. My fez goes off to Triangle for thinking outside the box.

I love Demolition Highstyle – the name says it all. The elder statesmen of the night, a few wrinkles and receding hairlines (except for their woolly mammoth of a guitarist) don’t mean they rock any less than their younger counterparts sharing the bill. On the contrary; they rock out but rein it in with a preternatural understanding of melody that many musicians just don’t ever have a handle on. They shone brightly tonight, especially when cracking out their original material, and dare I say there’s also a ghost of hard-edged Elvis that seems to wash over their performance, thanks to the hip-swivelling rock n roll posturing of front man Scott Mack.

The wicked Corps was up next and as usual attacked their instruments with furrowed brow and serious discipline that only rock n roll militants such as them can muster. Despite their stern image, they do know how to have fun on stage, especially when the gravel-voiced lead screamer realised his zipper was flying at half mast. This quintet wrings every last drop of adrenaline out of their songs, both original and covers, and deliver each track with muscular aplomb. The recent addition of slide guitar in their set was a breath of fresh air as was the set closer, the awesome cover of the Cash track Wanted Man. The old country crooner would’ve been proud.

I really don’t get the phenomenon that is Zombie Ghost Train. It’s true they are very popular, as their constantly packed out shows will attest, but I personally believe them to be highly overrated – more about their image than good music. Anointed with the ‘cool’ tag by the Urban Decay and Napoleon Purdis set who I bet money are themselves not fans of live music, ZGT cause the painted and primped pussy of the groupie faux-glitterati in attendance to quiver in a delight that I can’t fathom. I guess I like my music to be able to punch its way out of a paper bag. Although I will say that it is good to see them finally varying their usually monotonous set by playing pretty much only Johnny Cash covers (save for one original) including Folsom Prison Blues.

Evening headliners Sydney City Trash are like a hoe down on stage. Not least of all because of their barn-dancing brand of bush punk, but also because there are so many of the buggers in the band and they’re possessed of an addictive, feverish energy that embraces the audience in a sweaty hug. Tonight they certainly delivered as their set included drunken nakedness and cock swinging, much audience banter and a totally rad version of Johnny Cash’s Jackson resplendent with sexed-up guest female vocals. The only gripe I’d have with the Trash on this occasion was the briefness of their set. But I ‘spose I shouldn’t complain, considering that overall it was such a top-notch night. So cowboy hats off to Johnny Cash and all involved in putting this show together, let’s hope there’ll be more like it again.