REGULATIONS: JUBILEE HOTEL (LIVE REVIEW)
December 12th 2006 13:00
REGULATIONS
JUBILEE HOTEL
8.12.06
After last Friday night I realised why I don’t go to many gigs any more, but also why I should. Regulations played upstairs at the Jubilee Hotel (aka the ‘Star’ Bar) and it was a rockin’ good show. But I must be getting old, or maybe I’m just realising that I’m a cranky bastard, cuz people are really starting to shit me.
Unfortunately I don't have any photos of the gig, so you'll just have to imagine lots of beer and people with mohawks. Incidentally, if anyone has any photos (of the gig that is) I'd be happy to put 'em up here.
I got there just in time to catch the end of State Funeral, which is the new band for Neil from Draft Dodger, Bjelke Peterson Youth, et al. They played a forceful set of screaming hardcore, including a cover of “Kick Out The Jams” which turned the afro-rockin’ proto punk classic into a brutal blur. Neil got the crowd to shoutalong on one of their more rousing choruses and I was sad to have missed the start of their set (such is the lot of the opening band).
In the break one of the members of the next band did a brief soundcheck. After dicking around for a while, he said something like: “it’s a pretty shit PA but we’ll see what happens,” and then walked to the bar to find his bandmates. That’s the spirit of Aussie punk right there.
The name of that band was R.A.D. and they played a pretty funny set of melodic skatepunk, three of the four members wearing headbands. At one point the guitarist ended up in the crowd, playing on his back (the stage separated only by speakers and microphones). The worst part of their set was when some jumped-up Billy Idol wannabe and his girlfriend stood in front of me and started to make out, blocking my view with their slobbering. The dude had a cast on his hand, which I assumed was from a skateboarding accident, because he perked up when R.A.D said they were playing a song about skateboarding (they’re a skatepunk band: duh!). I blame R.A.D for all of this: skateboards, inappropriate public affection, A.I.D.S. Still, they were pretty G.O.O.D.
When Dick Nasty took the stage, the vibe changed; suddenly the crowd becoming more manic. Perhaps that’s because Dick Nasty are the fastest, and the funniest band in Brisbane. I’ve seen these guys a few times now and they always play a frenzied energy-filled show. It was an awesome set of lightspeed metallic hardcore tunes I don’t know the names of, prompting me to have another few listens to my mate’s copy of their Selling Bullshit To Arseholes (2002) album when I get a chance. And someone should remind me to pick up a copy of it and their newy You Are The Song My Enemy Sings (2004). Anyways, at one point the bassplayer lost his shorts, and then his boxers, although I didn’t see how either of these things happened cuz everything was so chaotic. There were as many people on stage as there was in the audience and crowd surfing was rampant. One particularly buxom lass was adding death metal growls to a few tunes and doin’ moves that belonged in a hip hop video. It looked like she was makin’ love to the guitarist’s fretboard, but he didn’t seem to mind. And who could blame him: it was pretty hot. They finished with a cover of “Ace of Spades” by Motorhead, at which point Buddha of Cursed Earth/Draft Dodger stormed the stage to do vocals. It was sheer bedlam, and pretty much reminded me of everything I love about local punk gigs.
Dick Nasty must have just been warming up the crowd though, because the chaos hit its peak when Straightjacket Nation from Melbourne came on. They were the final support and are touring around with Regulations, which is pretty cool, although perhaps not so cool for Regulations because their intense set left the Swedish boys with a lot to live up to. While I can’t remember any outstanding moments (I was pretty deep into my cups by then) the band played some severely crushing hardcore with sweat and passion, and the crowd repaid them in kind by just going rank: bodies flying from one side of the floor to the other as people rammed eachother and generally had a good time. The pit was so insane that it swallowed most of my alcohol, leaving me with no choice but to go back to the bar and get some more. At one point, I ended up with half my beer on my Saints t-shirt, and I wasn’t even in the pit. To make up for it, Straightjacket Nation played their cover of “(I’m) Stranded” which sent the crowd even more nuts. I was exhausted from just watching all of this nubile hardcore action, and needed a bit of sit down. And as a side note, I hope it doesn’t sound like tokenism, but it was good to see a chick playing drums at what was quite the sausagefest.
Before Regulations came on, I went to take a piss in the stall, being possessed of a bashful bladder. Some guy made a comment about me not wanting to piss in front of him. I maintained that I needed a shit, and he said something along the lines of nobody taking shits at pubs. Even though I didn’t need to shit, I didn’t feel like explaining to him the intricacies of not being able to piss in a trough. And besides, I always take shits at pubs. If you drink enough beer, you get to a stage where your body begins to process it more efficiently, the A.G.B. (After Grog Bog) becoming a D.G.B. (During Grog Bog). This guy wouldn’t understand, and seemed all too eager to see my dick. He was disappointed when I got into the stall to take a leak, which was incidentally covered in spew, but isn’t it always.
Regulations took their sweet, Swedish-ass time to set up, and looked kind of cleancut in comparison to all the crusty Brisbane punks. Still these guys proved they had nothing to prove in the punk stakes when they finally started, perhaps hearing my shouts of “set lite fart nu” (hurry up), but I’m shit at obnoxiousness and my friend said they probably didn’t hear me. These guys have some great songs and they performed them well despite a dodgy PA which buried Mattius’s Keith Morris-esque vocals. The crowd were kind of into it, although they may have been tired after the madness of Straightjacket Nation. I had been conserving my energy and managed to jump on my friends back and land on my arse at least a few times. The band played lots of tunes from their self-titled album as well as some earlier stuff, finishing up with their awesome track “Police Siren”.
Afterwards I talked to Mattius and then Marcus and Robet about Sweden and the Social Democratic Party who have recently lost power there, and shared my limited Swedish. They told me they were using someone else’s gear and didn’t think they played very well. They seemed like nice guys, tolerating my drunken questions without coming across like that’s what they were doing.
Even though some assorted fuckasses pissed me off, that will always happen, and all in all it was a great show. It’s good to see a band from the other side of the world be able to get to Australia on their own terms and play a show. It's also good to see the Brisbane punk underground still flourishing wherever it can, like a flower in the gutter. I know that’s not very punk rock, but I really don’t care. I had a great night.
***
IMAGES
Regulations*
Regulations Poster*
(images used under fair dealing)
* images on this page were taken from the following Wasted Sounds and Missing Link pages:
Regulations
Regulations Poster
JUBILEE HOTEL
8.12.06
A poster for the Regulations gig in lieu of any photos
After last Friday night I realised why I don’t go to many gigs any more, but also why I should. Regulations played upstairs at the Jubilee Hotel (aka the ‘Star’ Bar) and it was a rockin’ good show. But I must be getting old, or maybe I’m just realising that I’m a cranky bastard, cuz people are really starting to shit me.
Unfortunately I don't have any photos of the gig, so you'll just have to imagine lots of beer and people with mohawks. Incidentally, if anyone has any photos (of the gig that is) I'd be happy to put 'em up here.
I got there just in time to catch the end of State Funeral, which is the new band for Neil from Draft Dodger, Bjelke Peterson Youth, et al. They played a forceful set of screaming hardcore, including a cover of “Kick Out The Jams” which turned the afro-rockin’ proto punk classic into a brutal blur. Neil got the crowd to shoutalong on one of their more rousing choruses and I was sad to have missed the start of their set (such is the lot of the opening band).
In the break one of the members of the next band did a brief soundcheck. After dicking around for a while, he said something like: “it’s a pretty shit PA but we’ll see what happens,” and then walked to the bar to find his bandmates. That’s the spirit of Aussie punk right there.
The name of that band was R.A.D. and they played a pretty funny set of melodic skatepunk, three of the four members wearing headbands. At one point the guitarist ended up in the crowd, playing on his back (the stage separated only by speakers and microphones). The worst part of their set was when some jumped-up Billy Idol wannabe and his girlfriend stood in front of me and started to make out, blocking my view with their slobbering. The dude had a cast on his hand, which I assumed was from a skateboarding accident, because he perked up when R.A.D said they were playing a song about skateboarding (they’re a skatepunk band: duh!). I blame R.A.D for all of this: skateboards, inappropriate public affection, A.I.D.S. Still, they were pretty G.O.O.D.
When Dick Nasty took the stage, the vibe changed; suddenly the crowd becoming more manic. Perhaps that’s because Dick Nasty are the fastest, and the funniest band in Brisbane. I’ve seen these guys a few times now and they always play a frenzied energy-filled show. It was an awesome set of lightspeed metallic hardcore tunes I don’t know the names of, prompting me to have another few listens to my mate’s copy of their Selling Bullshit To Arseholes (2002) album when I get a chance. And someone should remind me to pick up a copy of it and their newy You Are The Song My Enemy Sings (2004). Anyways, at one point the bassplayer lost his shorts, and then his boxers, although I didn’t see how either of these things happened cuz everything was so chaotic. There were as many people on stage as there was in the audience and crowd surfing was rampant. One particularly buxom lass was adding death metal growls to a few tunes and doin’ moves that belonged in a hip hop video. It looked like she was makin’ love to the guitarist’s fretboard, but he didn’t seem to mind. And who could blame him: it was pretty hot. They finished with a cover of “Ace of Spades” by Motorhead, at which point Buddha of Cursed Earth/Draft Dodger stormed the stage to do vocals. It was sheer bedlam, and pretty much reminded me of everything I love about local punk gigs.
Dick Nasty must have just been warming up the crowd though, because the chaos hit its peak when Straightjacket Nation from Melbourne came on. They were the final support and are touring around with Regulations, which is pretty cool, although perhaps not so cool for Regulations because their intense set left the Swedish boys with a lot to live up to. While I can’t remember any outstanding moments (I was pretty deep into my cups by then) the band played some severely crushing hardcore with sweat and passion, and the crowd repaid them in kind by just going rank: bodies flying from one side of the floor to the other as people rammed eachother and generally had a good time. The pit was so insane that it swallowed most of my alcohol, leaving me with no choice but to go back to the bar and get some more. At one point, I ended up with half my beer on my Saints t-shirt, and I wasn’t even in the pit. To make up for it, Straightjacket Nation played their cover of “(I’m) Stranded” which sent the crowd even more nuts. I was exhausted from just watching all of this nubile hardcore action, and needed a bit of sit down. And as a side note, I hope it doesn’t sound like tokenism, but it was good to see a chick playing drums at what was quite the sausagefest.
Before Regulations came on, I went to take a piss in the stall, being possessed of a bashful bladder. Some guy made a comment about me not wanting to piss in front of him. I maintained that I needed a shit, and he said something along the lines of nobody taking shits at pubs. Even though I didn’t need to shit, I didn’t feel like explaining to him the intricacies of not being able to piss in a trough. And besides, I always take shits at pubs. If you drink enough beer, you get to a stage where your body begins to process it more efficiently, the A.G.B. (After Grog Bog) becoming a D.G.B. (During Grog Bog). This guy wouldn’t understand, and seemed all too eager to see my dick. He was disappointed when I got into the stall to take a leak, which was incidentally covered in spew, but isn’t it always.
Regulations: What a lovely bunch of young men
Regulations took their sweet, Swedish-ass time to set up, and looked kind of cleancut in comparison to all the crusty Brisbane punks. Still these guys proved they had nothing to prove in the punk stakes when they finally started, perhaps hearing my shouts of “set lite fart nu” (hurry up), but I’m shit at obnoxiousness and my friend said they probably didn’t hear me. These guys have some great songs and they performed them well despite a dodgy PA which buried Mattius’s Keith Morris-esque vocals. The crowd were kind of into it, although they may have been tired after the madness of Straightjacket Nation. I had been conserving my energy and managed to jump on my friends back and land on my arse at least a few times. The band played lots of tunes from their self-titled album as well as some earlier stuff, finishing up with their awesome track “Police Siren”.
Afterwards I talked to Mattius and then Marcus and Robet about Sweden and the Social Democratic Party who have recently lost power there, and shared my limited Swedish. They told me they were using someone else’s gear and didn’t think they played very well. They seemed like nice guys, tolerating my drunken questions without coming across like that’s what they were doing.
Even though some assorted fuckasses pissed me off, that will always happen, and all in all it was a great show. It’s good to see a band from the other side of the world be able to get to Australia on their own terms and play a show. It's also good to see the Brisbane punk underground still flourishing wherever it can, like a flower in the gutter. I know that’s not very punk rock, but I really don’t care. I had a great night.
***
IMAGES
Regulations*
Regulations Poster*
(images used under fair dealing)
* images on this page were taken from the following Wasted Sounds and Missing Link pages:
Regulations
Regulations Poster
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