Live Review: Dune Rats, West Thebarton Brothel Party, The Beverly Chills

19 December 2015 | 10:14 am | Tash Loh

"It was a rowdy, disgusting, insane, downright filthy show. It was a bloody bucket of fun."

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It may have been the sweet smell of something natural wafting through the air of the Fat Controller basement last night, but Brissy noisy boys Dune Rats were a ruckus (in the best possible way); the kinda band who've seen more success than they probably realise, and the classic kind of kids who just really enjoy doing what they do.

Despite the absence of a drummer, The Beverly Chills managed to pump out a tight sound with plenty of thrashy guitar and drums.

Bombshells of Adelaide talent West Thebarton Brothel Party basically are a party. Their gargantuan sound is perpetuated by a whopping seven dudes on stage rocking out like it was the last show they were ever gonna play. The crowd went suitably nuts as they played a cover of INXS's classic Don't Change, and given the band's bloody sick show, it won't come as a surprise to see them cementing their place in the Aussie music scene for a long, long time. Our favourite local lads went down smoother than a Zooper Dooper on the insanely hot night as they whipped out punky tunes like Misophonia and Glenn McGrath.

Dunies opened with a bit of incomprehensible mumbling as Danny's distinct stare got the rowdy crowd on its feet. The ratbags' cheeky stoner-punk sound won the hearts of the easy-going crowd as the second chorus of Happy Birthday rang out after Superman, a cake even being brought for our little drummer birthday boy. Anthemic Dalai Llama, Big Banana, Marijuana was almost drowned in the litres of sweat pouring off each and every audience member. The barrier was almost buckling under the weight of crowd-surfers making their way to the stage only to dive back into the pool of smiling happy faces — it may as well have been a pool; seriously, the sweat was insane — a real crazy time.

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It could have been the Mary Jane or their easygoing charm that stuck a permanent smile to the boys' faces, as an attempt at Violent Femmes track Blister In The Sun led to some upbeat banter. Dunies shows are notorious for being unpredictable and wildly corrupting: Brett taking an onstage tumble; Danny taking advantage of the sound guy's presence to leap off his back across the stage; BC giving into peer pressure and "shoey" chants to neck a b'day beer out of his Vans.

It was a rowdy, disgusting, insane, downright filthy show. It was a bloody bucket of fun.