Words by Rosina Carbone
All I can think about is if we crash and are marooned on some fictional deserted Kirribilli headland, we are going to have a poor time playing Cast Away. A mass of hard rockers will have to crawl out of Sydney Harbour and attempt to rediscover fire by using the dying embers of their jaded cigarette butts. We will routinely hunt for fish and small land mammals according to a banana leaf roster inscribed with liquid eyeliner. Our waterproof hut will be made of leather jackets and sewn together with strips of bandanas.
The reverie makes me shiver even as I’m getting tossed around in the wind on the top deck of this boat. That’s right, this Ronnie Simmons and the Redback Spiders gig is seaworthy. So, I count it a damn good thing The Cadman sails true. It’s only when we start to board that the wind picks up, flags near the harbour whipping with concerning ferocity. Our openers, Northern Beaches hard rock stalwarts Wicked Things, are the first to face the trials of the open sea.
The crowd hold each other steady, swaying with the boat as the four brothers- who are freakishly all musically talented- launch into their party rock anthem Oh Yeah. They are quick to establish that lyrical prowess is secondary to a good time, and the boys deliver one to the best of their ability. It’s a feat within itself that bass and drums are played with such precision as their own masses of long hair wildly blow into their eyes and mouths. The drummer from Ronnie and the Redbacks is crouched at the foot of the kick drum, holding down a teetering cymbal and quick to unfurl rolls of heavy-duty tape around the base.
The mix isn’t far from destroyed in these conditions; I note that the bass sound is drowning and gale-force winds blow out the microphone between the pitch-defying wails of Wicked Thing’s frontman. And yet, they remain in cheery form, singer-turned-tour guide, as our vessel cruises under the Harbour Bridge and past the Opera House. The twins of the band engage in a guitar/bass battle with practised agility, fingers cutting through the fretboard like a hot knife through butter. Wicked Things play the part of spirited crowd warmers with ease and, when they leave the stage, everyone’s a tad warmer from dancing around the deck.
If anyone’s sticking out in this sea of leather and black boots, it’s 70s rock revivalists Liquid Zoo. No strangers to the Sydney gigging circuit but a breath of fresh air to this scene, the four-piece offers the “roll” with weaving basslines and steady twist-and-shout beats. The sound guy must have acclimatised right in time for Round 2 as the angular swaggering guitar of Snakeskin Boots rips through the speakers bright and true.
It’s hard to say whether we pass through a patch of rain or if a couple of rough waves slap the hull just wrong, because sprays of water hit the crowd face-on, misting the backs of Liquid Zoo. The lead singer, unfazed, traverses the helm, perpetually perched on the balls of his feet. He springs around sprite-like and gyrates like committed rock-n-rollers of old. It’s a little bluesy, a little country, a little garage and a lot Rolling Stones. To leave the homage unacknowledged would be amiss, but, credit to them, they do it well.
Avalanche set the vibes straight with signature Australiana hard rock that echoes the thrusts of legendary countrymen AC/DC, Rose Tattoo and, more recently, Airbourne. Hard-hitting and unapologetic in the directness of their slashing riffs and heady rippling basslines, Avalanche seem like the perfect band to soundtrack this ferry ride to hell. They are faithfully backlit in a flurry of reds, with hair tendrils lit up like flickering candles against the city skyline.
In a sordid love letter to their hometown, the band dedicate Get Back (To Fuckwit City) to Sydney, pumping through a punchy guitar intro that isn’t too far off from If You Want Blood (You’ve Got It). Infinitely cool, the axewoman wades into the crowd to rip through a blistering solo. Onlookers are ravenous, soaking up delicious licks and tuned into the all-business rasps of their frontman.
It seems the boat is finally on the homestretch as the members of Ronnie Simmons and the Redback Spiders mount the helm of The Cadman. It’s rock just how I like it; a full five members, including two guitar-slingers, leaving Simmons to step out from behind his usual axe and lunge over a mike stand in its stead. Our frontman is a well-seasoned performer, his practised presence carrying on from stints in numerous touring bands including Faster Pussycat, Richie Ramone and currently Rose Tattoo.
There’s a startling myriad of influences shining through the first couple of tracks. Expectedly hard rock, punk, blues and… is that ska? Unless I started hallucinating due to over-oxygenation on this gusty top deck, backbeat shuffles and bouncy upstrokes punctuate even some of the heavier-leaning songs. I count the off-kilter influence a welcome surprise and come to anticipate its reappearance throughout the set. They’re not done with me yet, as a punkish cover of Bob Dylan’s It Ain’t Me, Babe slaps me across the face and leaves me writhing.
The single of honour, recently released track Alone With You, is christened under the halo of the illuminated Harbour Bridge. It’s all chugging guitars, mythic narration and infectious pop hooks. In each breath, the chorus is engraved with undulating bass licks against the underbelly of slicing rock riffature. It feels as though its release is perfectly timed to the seasonal change in weather. The obscured yearning in Simmon’s reaching vocals is overwhelmingly summer-y and feel-good, tales of sunny Los Angeles bottled into four minutes of blissful escapism that prevail even on this frigid night.
When we dock, I try my hardest not to kiss the ground of King Wharf. Despite it all- and there is a lot to despite – four of Sydney’s best on a boat during a near hurricane was a dream. I just can’t tell if it was my favourite nightmare or my most fucked up fantasy.
