The queue outside the venue snaked around the corner. Fans had arrived early to ensure an intimate experience with “three unhinged Welsh boys and one warped Londoner”. The pavement of Little Bourke Street was littered with an abundance of yellow and red striped drinking straws – testosterone-fuelled behaviour. A skerrick of apprehension entered my headspace until a neighbour in the queue let rip a well-timed burp. This lightened the atmosphere.
Once inside, our ears were treated to pearlers such as Motley Crue’s ‘Girls, Girls, Girls’ and the scene was set for support band Don’t Ask Us. All band members faced the drummer for an endless intro, either fearing the crowd or exploring a motif. This Melbourne punk/rock outfit received a great deal of exposure late last year as the House Band on ‘Rove Live’. They have an accomplished sound but sadly their set was punctuated by constant requests to “F*** Off!” We returned to certified bogan anthems.
Too much time elapsed before the main attraction. Dirty Sanchez is billed as making “Jackass look like the Teletubbies” and three of its members sauntered out. They were clutching beers and rocked out to the tune of Turbonegro’s ‘All My Friends Are Dead’. A lot of indecipherable banter followed – partly due to their Welsh accents, mostly due to levels of intoxication. I managed to decipher, “Wake up, Melbourne” and “Melbourne is where AC/DC’s from”. The crowd was doused in champagne and fishing rods were presented for the first stunt of the night which was dedicated to Steve Irwin. Fishing hooks were inserted into the earlobes of Joyce and Pritchard and fancy footwork mimicked a swordfight as they wrestled until they broke free. That’s right! Ripped their earlobes! Inspecting the blood they moved onto the next segment, referred to as “School Of Cock”.
First up for the challenge was Londoner “Joycey” who showed us his new tattoos –“love” is inscribed on one knacker, “hate” on the other. He attempted a karaoke version of ‘Sweet Child O’ Mine’ by Guns’n’Roses. I’ve heard worse but we were encouraged to boo him, his punishment being a bungy rope to the knackers. A series of cringe worthy episodes followed; Dainton’s penis was placed under the string of a guitar which was then plucked, this same guitar was smashed over Pancho’s (the dwarf’s) head, drumsticks were inserted where the sun don’t shine one of which was smeared under Joycey’s nose in reference to the origins of their name – Dirty Sanchez.
Pritchard’s “voodoo date” produced an alarming amount of blood. Three sizeable pins were pushed through the underside of his forearm then lemons were squeezed into the wounds. An interesting delayed reaction effect was created when a microphone was held up to each victim’s mouth to amplify their agony. It sometimes sounded put-on though I’m no sadist!
A couple of lads in front of me left halfway through the show announcing, “This is shit!” while the remainder of the crowd were riveted. Censorship laws have prevented Dirty Sanchez from performing their final stunt in some countries. But all I will say is that it made the recipient, Joycey, throw up! More a crowd dive than a crowd surf from Pritchard closed proceedings.
While parallels to Jackass are unavoidable (there is even the token dwarf to berate), I can state with conviction that Dirty Sanchez are decidedly more lowbrow. The gross-out factor was cranked up to eleven! All stunts came directly from Wrongtown which is exactly what thrilled their fan base. More enter-pain-ment than entertainment.
