The nuances of Australian music culture will never cease to fascinate me.
I jumped at the gig jam-packed with five glowing examples of the stereotype; Muddy Chanter, The Bear Hunt, Fight Ibis, Drunk Mums and Hockey Dad attracted a sell-out crowd to The Zoo on Ekka Eve in Brisbane (15 August).
Even before Drunk Mums took the stage I knew what to expect; if this was an ocean, these boys would be the pirates; the rebels, captaining a ship adorned with skulls and steered by an ominous black mast, marked by a ‘Drunk Mums’ flag draped across the back wall.
We were sailing towards the unchartered waters of punk, depths I rarely venture into. Though surprisingly the band only hovered over my fine line of music versus noise, tip-toeing more towards the latter at times though for the most part showcasing a handful of solid tunes.
An elusive precedent was set by an empty stage pre-Hockey Dad, a blank canvas that was first painted by 2016 record ‘Boronia’s starting track ‘Can’t Have Them’. The innocent love chorus of ‘Laura’ nostalgically tugged at my naïve teenage heart strings; ‘Jump The Gun’ soon surfaced, mischievous, and with a twinkling riff. ‘A Night Out With’ could be the band’s next big hit, crowd aptly chiming along to the chorus.
The duo revealed two newbies, both strong and a little heavier, before rounding off the set with ‘So Tired’ and returning with fan-favourite ‘I Need A Woman’ for the encore.
It was warming to watch excited fans flock closer to the stage, friends turning to friends turning to strangers turning to bystanders, nudging each other with a smile and cheering for the familiar track. It’s a beautiful song; poetic, but with a hint of cheek.
I’ll admit, the day’s work took its toll before Hockey Dad had graced the stage, but their set felt like an alternative source of caffeine, more endorphin-riddled than any old cappuccino. Interestingly, their music sounds basic and I suppose it is in ways.
Their songs are often only two or so minutes, with a verse-chorus-verse-chorus structure and a dictating guitar riff. But audibly, it’s very easy to forget the fact that it’s only TWO, young lads producing these sounds, a factor that certainly takes away any inkling of ‘simplicity’.
Billy Fleming and Zach Stephenson are EXCEPTIONAL musicians, so incredibly proficient I found it difficult to focus on both at once, the eye automatically fixating on either Zach’s effortless synchronisation of guitar and vocals or Billy’s erratic drumming.
The thing is, these fellows look young, at least young enough to be easily swept up in fame, fans and fortune; what’s more, their genre is a niche that naturally draws a rowdy fan base.
Though despite countless crowd members climbing onto the stage, running around like maniacs and jumping head first into the mosh pit, Hockey Dad weren’t once deterred by the distractions; maintaining a cool and focussed demeanour, at most grinning at their frantic followers.
Australian music culture truly is intriguing; a tsunami of surf rock has crashed down on our shores and seems to be inundating our suburban garages with long-haired yahoos singing about chicks and summer and skateboarding.
A line I use often is 'they’ve picked their target market and addressed it well', though I don’t believe that’s quite the case here. I would in fact go as far as to say that Hockey Dad were at the forefront of the movement, front-runners in a genre that has so quickly prevailed across the country.
I can’t decide whether I respect them more or obsess with them, but I know I’d brave even the rowdiest crowd of long-haired yahoos to watch them play again.
