The Exploders, 67 Special @Candy's Apartment, Sydney(20/4/2007)

Mon 23rd Apr, 2007 in Gig Reviews

There’s something cheerfully nostalgic about descending the stairs to Candy’s Apartment in Kings Cross… maybe it’s the mirror balls on the low ceiling, the 70s brick archways, or even the drift of cigarette smoke (soon to be a distant memory). Whatever it is, it was perfectly suited to the feast of old-school rock served up on Friday night. Sometimes this reviewer grows weary of the live scene; watching band after band trying desperately to be the next Strokes or Stooges can wear a soul down. One night in a hundred or so, however, I’m reminded why I keep looking, listening, hoping… this was one of those rare nights.

Local boys Savoy Rocks opened the night early, already cranking when I arrived at 8.30pm. I wasn’t expecting much from this band: in preparation for the night I’d gone to their MySpace site to check the cut of their jib. Guys, can I suggest you actually post some songs, or at least some descriptions of your songs, that can get us salivating for your fare? It’s all very clever and arty to list influences like “sock puppets”, and to say you sound like “burning”, but with no songs, no videos, well… this punter doesn’t usually plunk down her hard-earned pelf on a pig in a poke, and if it hadn’t been for the fact I’d come along for the other bands, I’d not have bothered with Savoy Rocks.

Honestly, I was prepared to loathe them for being just too damned precious. To my initial chagrin and eventual pleasure though, I just couldn’t. They were too good. Ballsy rock with a ska edge (think Arctic Monkeys without the accents), they effectively utliised two singers with complimentary styles: one raspy rocker and one whose surprisingly rich voice could launch a thousand top 40 hits. Competent and entertaining, they weren’t the equal of their stage mates for the evening, but they weren’t miles behind either. I have to wonder how seriously they’re taking this band biz when they’re throwing away opportunities to spread the gospel of Savoy Rocks via MySpace, but if they ever decide to grip down and get real about it, I reckon they just might prove worthy of my dollars and devotion.

When a guy in the crowd wearing a Motley Crue tshirt is thrashing his hair about and punching the air, you know you’re in the presence of Rock with a capital R. This is the kind of response accorded to The Exploders, one of my favourite bands from That Southern State, and it’s a response well deserved. This is the third or fourth time I’ve seen these guys, and they never fail to deliver the goods. TJ (singer and guitar-god) always blows me away with the power of his big voice and Cream-esque guitar sound; the songs are well-formed and punchy; the sound is tighter than Iggy’s jeans. Everything about this band is a total joy to anyone who digs the real deal: gutsy licks and riffs that sound like hot-pressed vinyl recordings, not that tinny digitised modern rubbish. The old favourites were let off the leash for a run: Big Hair Revolution, Steppin’ Out, and My Country Brain had everyone dancing, and although you never get much banter from this band, the consolation is an almost-unbroken stream of Grade-A rock. Love it, love it, love it. A new song was tried out on the crowd, some bouncy Britpop influenced thing complete with “bomp bomp bomp” sing-along, and just proved that these guys haven’t been merely sitting around in Lake Colac admiring their laurels. A brief chat with the surprisingly affable TJ after the show revealed him to be a Melbourne coffee snob, but I’m willing to forgive him. When you’re making music this good, I’m willing to forgive you just about anything… even being a Victorian.

Having said that, I’m about ready to apply for a Mexican visa to go live South of the Border. Hey, they’re producing bands like The Exploders and 67 Special... they must be doing something right down there! My first thought upon hearing this band was “My God, why wasn’t I told sooner?!” (actually my first thought was “this singer has the perfect teeth of a private schoolboy, but the perfect tight-denim-clad thighs of a high-class rentboy”, but the musical admiration followed shortly thereafter.) 67 Special really ARE something special – The Exploders warned us they’d be “face melting”, and although my face didn’t actually melt right off, I felt a few times it was in danger of going molten.

67 Special make sexy, gritty, incendiary music. Awesome high-powered rock songs like Killer Bees and Sold Your Little Sister For A Red Motor Car saw singer Ash Santilla thrashing about, glaring and pointing maniacally, descending into the crowd while he clawed at his guitar, then ascending again to his rightful place elevated above us mere mortals. The band looked like outlaws: blue-eyed devil Ben Dexter punished the drums, cowboy hat rakishly cocked, and lead guitarist Gavin Campbell proved a real trooper by playing the whole set flawlessly with what was reportedly a dislocated finger. Even the keyboard player had a black eye. What do these guys get up to on the road?? And just when you might be thinking they’re another bunch of pub rock jocks, they strip the band back to guitar and bass for a melodic power ballad that’s a total winner. These guys couldn’t put a foot wrong tonight; even their merch plug was delivered with grace and humour: “If you buy a tshirt, we can afford brekky tomorrow”. Solving world hunger one rock star at a time… how could I resist?

Final verdict on 67 Special? They’re every glimmer of rich rockin’ goodness you’ve detected in dozens of nights out in dozens of venues, triple-distilled and potent as hell. You want to be reminded of why you love (or used to love) rock ‘n’ roll? Go see 67 Special when they hit your town. This, ladies and gentlemen, is as good as it gets.