Live Review: Cosmic Psychos

As frontman Ross Knight will tell you, Cosmic Psychos were “three ugly lookin' blokes, tourin' the world, playing at all these wonderful cities, dining at all these wonderful restaurants, meeting all these famous people”, and men who over 30 years made dirty, gritty rock that branded the Australian music scene forever after. But underscoring these great feats was, according to Knight, always the leveling realisation that he's “a fuckin' farmer”.

It is hilarious, ocker recollections such as this, interspersed with praise from music legends such as Pearl Jam frontman Eddie Vedder, and Nirvana and Garbage producer Butch Vig, as well as more humbling, touching stories of friends on the road that make up the tremendous Cosmic Psychos documentary, Blokes You Can Trust. Premiering at the Regal Theatre in Castlemaine for cast, crew and those who contributed to the overwhelming success of the Pozible campaign that ended last August, the documentary was directed by Matt Weston, and is appropriately named after the band's 1991 album of the same name. Cosmic Psychos, who started in the early '80s as Spring Plains, have undergone multiple member changes, released eight studio albums, seen their songs covered by electronic dance trio The Prodigy, endured the death of guitarist Robbie 'Rocket' Watts in 2006 and, as the documentary unveils, issued both the best and worst album art in the history of rock.

Prior to the screening of this all emotions documentary, and an unconventional red carpet – lined with tractors, 'dozers and a tonne of beer-stained mouths – the Psychos (with the current line-up of Knight, John 'Macca' McKeering and Dean Muller) perform for a relatively intimate crowd at Knight's farm, perched on what became a rather natural amphitheatre in a wide hole dug out of the gravel on his property. The farm is also appropriately littered with plant machinery, and the crowd is a combination of film crew and diehard fans, the majority spilling from one of two buses that departed from the Tote earlier today.

Using a spin-the-wheel to decide the setlist, the rules are strictly abided by – well, at least for the first half of the set, and any song that appears twice, including Custom Credit, is played as it appears on the wheel's face. Eventually the Psychos forego honouring the rules in favour of playing classics for the rowdy crowd, who are elated by the particularly identifiable lyrics of songs like Hooray Fuck, Back In Town and the monosyllabic Nice Day To Go To The Pub. The final song, an end which no punter seems happy to acknowledge, is Lost Cause, a choice which Knight concedes through chuckles is “a stupid song”. The documentary and gig alike attest to the endearing adage that for Knight, both the unlikely protagonist of a film and frontman of the supreme Cosmic Psychos, “you can take the boy out of the farm, but you can't take the farm out of the boy”.