Live Review: Drunk Mums

It's a Friday night when the coin is flipped - which gig to see tonight? After much discussion, the options are narrowed down to two: Redro Redriguez & His Inner Demons at Cherry Bar, or Drunk Mums at The Bendigo Hotel. Drunk Mums are the victors and our party braves the worsening elements, making it to the venue just in time.

The front bar is packed, the beer garden is filled with chatter and weed smoke, and the bandroom is a churning pile of limbs even before the band are anywhere near the stage. As Drunk Mums appear, the mosh is on from the very first note. New single Roll With The Punches is a belter and enthusiastically received by the sold-out room. Bassist Adam Ritchie's snotty delivery is endlessly entertaining. 

A thick fug of sweat, body heat and beer hangs over the room, and the crowd lurches violently forward. Punters spring off the stage and surf towards the edges of the room, surprisingly it is marginally easier to move around in this fashion than attempting to fight a path to the bar. By the time Plastic comes around things are rapidly skidding towards out of control and vocalist Dean Whitby urges the audience to slow things down. Not a bad idea considering the speaker hanging precariously over stage left seems a firm shove away from crushing the front row. It feels dangerous; the band that gives few fucks have a crowd that gives even fewer. It's one of those visceral gigs that stick in your memory, indeed, a friend down for the weekend laments, "Stuff like this just doesn't happen in Sydney."

Teasing the first few lines of Eventual Ghost, the band rip out crowd favourite Nanganator instead. Jake Doyle's vocals are perfectly feral, mirroring the response from the audience. An overeager punter attempts to dance on stage, and is quickly elbowed off by Ritchie. Consistently unpredictable, they finish off with a raucous rendition of Donna Summer's disco anthem Hot Stuff. 

Now back to being a four-piece, Drunk Mums appear to be having an almighty second wind. Tonight's show was shambolic, loud, frenzied, and at some points scary - everything that you should want from a rock'n'roll show. The newer stuff is fucking great, and their older material is played with a renewed enthusiasm. The band seems reinvigorated, and their audience is more rabid than ever. Having always been one of the most watchable bands in Melbourne, whatever fire has been lit under their arses is paying off in spades. Thankfully, with an album due out in November, Drunk Mums should be here again sooner rather than later.