A new wave of gig going generation is gathering among us, and they are riding this wave hard.
I’ve said it previously that bands like The Terrys (The Tezzas, The Terrydactyls will also suffice) were largely the wheels of happiness for a generation entering early adulthood, yet kept indoors under the clouds of uncertainty with Covid, and its necrotic fallout on the live music scene in harrowing times.
I am pleased to report positive change is present, the ‘Skate Pop’ wheels are grinding and this audience is ready to party to the wholesome live feels from the boys from Gerringong, making up for lost time and all in universal agreeance, Covid can eat a bag of dicks.
Photographer Liz and I slid into the box office for our media passes, (Triffid staff go out of their way to look after media and we love them for it) we headed straight to the strangely vacant Beer Garden (Punters, you can come in and grab a drink, and eat, you don’t have to line up outside!) With a tasty burger arriving promptly, I drooled over it while yarning with Sam from Dad fight, recalling the ultra-madness of their gigs, and new material on its way. Sam introduced us to Lukas Anderson (The Terrys Lead Guitar) who jubilantly exclaimed how happy he was to be here. I spoke about doing the album review for ‘Skate Pop’, he asked if I liked it, to which I exclaimed, “No, I loved it.”
I destroyed my now cold burger (still scrumptious), and detailed the events to Liz about The Bennies outrageous gig at the Zoo the night before, with Sydney hard rockers FANGZ accompanied by two of my favourite local acts The Sex Guys, and Fat Dog and the Tits that just carved it up again.
The crowd was a bit slim for the UK outfit Underwurld Surfers, an in-your-face genre-hopping football hooligan sound, with elements of rock, rap, thrash punk edge and an essence of partying hard in Australia. In between lambasting King Charles’s sausage fingers, they laid down some heavy tracks with Red Alert being the standout. The guitarist seemed well out of place, with his blistering Joe Satriani guitar builds, he could of split off stage and had his own satellite gig, I would have followed he was that mesmerising.
Jacob Finch (The Terrys Lead singer) came out to watch while the UK lads worked the room, Jacob had photos with fans, witnessed the crowd doing shoeys out of Doc Martins, and just enjoyed the hectic atmosphere. That atmosphere was struck by a crack of lightning when the Surfers sledged the gloom of their homeland in comparison to Sunny Australia. Best surmised with a cover of The Angels Am I Ever Gonna See Your Face Again (supplemented with the lyrics “Am I ever gonna see the UK again?”). This is, of course, the Aussie music equivalent of shooting fish in a barrel at a gig. While it wasn’t on par with the refined like a version by Dune Rats, it stirred the crowd into a frothy readiness, shoeys and shots were getting slammed. Doc Neeson would give this a snarling nod of the head, and they had drawn in the majority of the sold-out show in the process.
Le Shiv might put a restraining order on me; I’m not stalking them, I just seem to be at every gig they’ve played in Brisbane in the last 12 months, most recently with Royel Otis at the Tivoli in March will be a high mark to match, it was dead on perfect. Charlie Don’t Go resonated off the largest crowd I’ve seen at the Tiv is a core memory locked in tight in the gig diaries.
I struggle to put Le Shiv in a category, as it’s more of an intertwining sense of comfort tapping into your emotions, and I’d rather ride that out any day than put a defined label on them. Le Shiv is best served in a subtly lit room, with a glass of shiraz (or on a 4-20 something- something in a shade of jade), while dancing in your living room.
Bring a Brick, is the lucid Dope Lemon(ish) swagger intro tonight, nestled up nicely to the waves of Buzzcloud. I think this is where I marvelled at Dylan on keys, playing effortlessly one-handed while drinking a beer (I cursed my lack of musical talent and ability to look that cool!).
Something I Said, is a testament to lead Singer Pencil’s vocal flexibility, with whooping backing vocals from Mossy (Guitar) and Jarleth (Bass), Billy (Drums) coasting them along in a smooth sailing beat.
It would be remiss of me not to associate a similar vibe to Tame Impala, but No Freak sets Le Shiv up to be their own sound. The swirling rhythm and vocal carry on this track slaps, in theatrical feel and crowd participation. Shortly after, the song Trouble has the lyrical languish that could be borrowed by those tempted by country.
My favourite track is where the tectonic plates of Le Shiv fuse perfectly. The key arrangement of Charlie Don’t Go with Dylan hovering the band into a midway drop of electronica stemming from “I can see the Horns growing from your skull…” This track should be trialled for dancefloor homicide, it’s that nasty.
Sing My Last seemed to put a handbrake on the momentum, and I was worried that Le Shiv had lost the crowd they had just whipped up so hard, with another mellow number I’m Fine, I’ve Said Too Much.
After a guitar string repair, Le Shiv took the crowd for a ride in a vortex with Where’s My Money. The omni directional double down on guitar effects (enhanced by Dylan taking up guitar) and false builds, each one stepping the audience up with the anthemic chant of “Where’s my money?” The momentum had swung back in their favour, bidding the crowd farewell with I Remember leaving us on a Le Shiv high. Thanks again Le Shiv, Brisbane welcomes you back anytime. Check out the 2024 EP ‘New World Colour’.
The Terrys clones (lads all dressed in weathered caps, shoulder length hair, wonky moustaches, lose T-Shirts, and even loser jeans) had that scruff surf skater look down pat and by the dozen. Ladies were dragging BFFs by the hand to the front of the barrier, as I clung to my usual spot with regular gig goers on the left side wall, being squished into it as the crowd had truly swelled, with a stream of resupply missions to the bar and back.
The PA was having its own internal crisis faltering with performance anxiety while the stage was prepped for the main act, that was until it was given a swift kick in the arse by Triffids favourite resident Artists –The Beddy Rays and bought back online with –Sobber Coaster. Within 5 minutes of this Playing Lew and Jacko from Beddy Rays walked past me to the cheer and delight of the crowd. The duo to took a spot stage side of their good mates The Terrys.
This is the part I love, just moments before the main act, you just don’t know how the crowd is going to react on first track.
The X-Files theme song plays with dash of smoke and flashing green lights blinking over the stage. An anxious crowd await the UFO ‘Skate Pop’ tractor beam, to jettison The Terrys down, to take over Planet Triffid with the album opener, Head Noise.
Here Jacob Finch (lead Vocals) tries to contain his excitement while lead guitarist Lukas Anderson and Ben Salvatori on rhythm take hold of the reigns. “And no matter what you say you wear your heart on your sleeeeeeve!” Cameron Cooper massages the drums, maintaining a gentle holding pattern of cymbal taps, accompanied by bass master Trent Cooper to synch in a melting rhythm, the crowd anticipate the guitar solo, and the synth overlay to the outro with glee. The Terrys have landed.
The set list jumps down the album order Zombie, this song capitulates to the fun that The Terrys stand for, I will requote Tezzas own mission statement: “Infectious, Fun and free-spirited is the Tezzas way. It’s not the streams or radio plays- it’s fulfilling their own creative urges and building a community on the foundation of Music and mates in the process…” The Terrys skate close to punk on this one, like grains of sand stuck to the trucks of their coastal skateboard.
A throwback to 2021 tidal swell of Cost the Peace, had an equal reaction from the crowd, embracing the hither and throw between Jacobs “Well, if it costs the peace- then is it worth the time?” The mood was locked in with the dreamy state of Hopscotch and Jacob reminded us on the outro that The Terrys are “your best friends from NSW”.
Fundamental Man has a blue grassy flavoured swagger intro, assisted with a greasy bass line, this seemed to signify the crowd to take action climbing on each other’s shoulders. I’d been eagerly awaiting the guitar solo, while heeding Jacobs warning of the fundamental mental man, and cherishing each day as a blessing.
We stayed in the Clouds, with the dreamy floating feeling, and smooth use of synth, and tantalising soft tapping percussion that carried the crowd high…a punter got removed for lighting up a spliff, ah well you can’t blame them for trying with “I got a six pack of freedom, feel alright, yeah feel alright. Seems I’m floating away, in the clouds today seems I’m floating away.”
My favourite track Silent Disco broke the clouds like a B52 bomber! It’s guitar amp feedback gallop of break neck rhythm and pace. Jacob delivers his vocal range in a two-pronged race of riff- based guitar wails. The positivity just oozes with “I hope this day never ends” and “that was the best day of my life.” I still wonder about the reference to “Ziggy” perhaps that’s what he refers to in the track Wolves?
I’d previously written of the Silent Disco climbing bass track, tightly wound in precision to madman approach to percussion work. I am steering well clear of the overused SNL quote, rather I’m going to take a stab and say the use of a wooden jam block in this song went as bonkers as a broken cuckoo clock at high noon.
Daisy’s Drop acoustic serenade brought the sad song (Jacobs words, not mine) to life. The longing is evident in the empathic plea, examining the gentle vulnerability of the exposed vocal/guitar duo. Sparklers lit the stage, synching the lift in spirits with the drum build up and a warning to anyone with well lacquered hair to stay away!
With the crowd chanting along “ Up the Tezzas!” and Jacob giving it straight back with “Lets Gooooo Brisbane!”, the love was mutually reciprocated tonight. This is one aspect of the indie Aus music scene I relish, the absence of 12-foot barriers void of class, like delineation between fans and artist as both entities embrace the safety and contentment of supporting each other, witnessed by mingling with fans pre- and post-show. Perhaps this vibe is best consolidated in the harmonica laden gem Favourite Place with customised idiophones from the percussion expert and gentle acoustics.
Imaginary Friend was enhanced with more sparklers emanating from the stage floor, followed Wolves a track that I feel Jacob is howling at the moon with his vocal range at full limit, guided by guitar chords wavering in sustain replicating his primal behaviour and the perfectly penned line “wait for the music let it take you away, ‘cause I feel something beautiful, and it’s a place to stay.”
Jacob had a quick The Chats inspired smoko, vape and a beer before being joined on stage by the man that should have a spare key to the Triffid – Jacko of the Beddy Rays, to join in on a very heartfelt tandem of Our Paradise. We are very proud of our QLD wall of Triffid champions, including The Saints, DZ Deathrays and Powderfinger, to name a few, (I wonder who will join them next year?) Jacob thanked the support the Beddy Rays have given to them over the years, a kinship that hasn’t wavered.
I have formed a strong attachment to the song Troopy, previously writing that this track hits you square in the flashback feels with reminiscent lyrics of an awkward unrequited crush “Because I’m Loopy, driving around in Troopy, say G’day to Susie, oh I wish she knew me”. It’s another lovelorn languish, interlapping with happy memories and contentment in the simple easy life, both rattling around in your head while barrelling over corrugated roads in a corroded Toyota FJ Troopy.
No Bad Days, has garnered a swell of support from The Terrys fan base, achieving 93 on the recent triple j’s Hottest 100. Hearing the live version of that nostalgic intro, weaved with paced passionate lyrics, mellow keys, and ripping guitar solos, smoothly gliding along on the vibrato of a hummingbird walking bass line made the night for many.
T’was the night of 420 eve, it was therefore appropriate that Tokyo prompted the crowd to funk down on a Gatorade saxophone the next day to the heady hypnotic synth wave breakdowns, driving drums pushing along to the next jet plane to Tokyo. The Terrys assist with a gentle nudge of a sticky little guitar solo to get you off the runway. The song was dedicated to someone that will remain anonymous, and a long chat of “Brisbane, Brisbane, BrisssssBaaaaane!”
Jacob appreciates the efforts the crowd have gone too and the support given to the band, the current financial crisis enhanced the lyrics to the closing track Pesos.
A prompt for Brisbane to “send it” as The Terrys tour keyboarder launches into the front row for a quick lap around the crowd. The Terrys retreat off stage for no longer than a minute, to come back for an encore, which I feel inclined to keep a secret, in the hopes this might lure you to see them at some of the other ‘Skate Pop’ tour gigs.
Fly high Terrydactyls, as many of your fans will be on 420 because you both equally deserve it. Brisbane loves ya Tezzas!
For tour dates to celebrate the release of ‘Skate Pop’ see https://www.theterrysband.com/tour
