This Indonesian tour actually kicked off with two shows in Perth. BloodRock Festival at the Rosemont Hotel and a Sunday punk show at a local Perth bowls club.
BloodRock was two stages and 30 bands. DCR headlined the night, which gave us ample time to sample all the local brews and bands. Both were awesome. The next day was spent soaking up rays at the beach then soaking up pints over a few rounds of bowls. Perth has a killer-DIY scene. With a venue closing down almost every month, local bands have taken it upon them selves to find new halls, clubs and pubs willing to let them put on shows. And the scene will be all the better for it.
Monday saw us scrambling to the airport just in time to buy some rupia, catch up with the lads in Child and board the plane to Denpasar. A few hours and beers later we hit the tarmac and the oppressive heat ensured we all knew we weren't in Melbourne anymore. We made it through customs and met up with our tour manager, Anca. This dude is a living legend. Bringing out bands like King Parrot, Batpiss and The Hard-Ons to name just a few.
Image © InstagramWith two days off in Bali we set about finding cheap beers, cheap food and chilling at the beach. The time came for our first show, the original venue cancelled but Anca sorted a place that day and it could not have been a better introduction to the tour.
Warung Martal is a tiny cafe in the middle of a busy intersection; it pretty much looks like a verandah with a bar and some beat-up old gear. The lads in Child got things going with a grooving blues set that had the locals transfixed on lead dog Mathias guitar chops. An energetic surprise set by Two Headed Dog followed, which saw locals pulling off the road to see what the hell was going on.
DCR hit the ‘stage’ and by this time the locals were clapping and shouting along all the while throwing the horns. After losing two-thirds of our body weight in sweat we finished up the set and got stuck into some luke-warm Bintangs.
Image © InstagramThe next morning was spent searching for one of the Child lads passports; luckily it turned up. Our second show was at the well known Twice Bar, a tiny dive reminiscent of Cherry Bar in Melbourne; if Cherry had a tattoo shop and motorcycles parked inside it. The night kicked off with two local bands and crowds of people rolling in to see what all the noise was about.
Once again Two Headed Dog hit the stage for a quick, three-song set. By this time the room was heaving, torrential rain had kicked in and midway through Two Headed Dogs third song the power went out. Not deterred by this Andy played on, tearing through a drum solo in pitch black that had the crowed baying for more. Child followed with an onslaught of heavy riffs, the humidity by now had the walls dripping and the crowd scrambling for cold beers, with shirts being torn off and grooving blues screaming from the makeshift PA.
With the road outside flooding and the hellish heat DCR sped through a destructive set. Climbing on the bar in search of reprieve from the thickened, humid air. Luckily for us all our hotel was only a few hundred metres away. We all celebrated with cold beers in the warm pool.
Once again waking up in a hurried state, both bands clambered into taxis to get to the airport 30 minutes before our flight to Surubaya. We landed and headed straight for a local meal – whole split chickens with feet and heads still intact, chilli, rice and some kind of avocado/mango/ coconut-jelly drink.
Image © InstagramOnce we found our hotel, something akin to a bad ‘60s Moroccan drug den, the kind of place you wake up in a bathtub of ice with both kidneys harvested, we got some much needed cold beers and tried to rest; later on we would play two consecutive shows at two very different venues.
Anca informed us that both bands would have to leave at separate times, if the police found both bands in the venue at the same time they would arrest us and demand money. So Child went off and we rested up. The van came back for DCR and ushered us to our first show, a cafe full of locals. We only had time for three songs but it was enough. In such a small venue, full of kids raising the horns, once again the heat was almost too much. When we finished we were mobbed for photo after photo, our gear was loaded in the van and the promoter literally had to pry the locals off of us so we could make the next show.
We arrived ten minutes later to a club in an industrial estate. Our gear was loaded in for us and we entered a club with deafening, ‘90s techno blaring from the PA. The stage looked more suitable for a Jersey Boys musical. Despite it all we set-up and tore into our set; at first the locals were seated and appeared dumbfounded, as the set rolled on the crowed got to their feet, then beer after beer was thrust in my hand; having made the mistake of sculling the first one the crowed wanted to see me scull as many as they could give me.
Image © InstagramOnce we finished the set the crowed demanded an encore. Then once again we were mobbed for photos as our gear was loaded out. The club owner took us upstairs to a VIP room, fed us beers and introduced us to the ‘madam’ of the venue and all her beautiful girls. We stuck with the beers. The club owner insisted on paying for our next night’s accommodation and bought half of our band shirts. It was an experience to say the least.
Now we are in our tour bus, our transport for the next seven days, en route to Malung where we will be staying up a mountain and playing a show in the town. Six more shows to come.
