Th’ Dudes celebrate their heyday, and many of ours too with an appropriately rowdy, raucous and totally Rock’n’roll rave-up, ending it in sympathy with the devil.
We are getting ahead of ourselves. A little recap.
Dave Dobbyn, Ian Morris and Peter Urlich (lead singer) were mates at Sacred Heart College. They had dreams of Rock’n’roll stardom and success, as many teenagers do and a precious few succeed.
This was around the time of Bowie, T-Rex, Glam Rock and the bells of Gary Glitter. Joe Strummer was also trying to carve a niche in Pub Rock, and then went on to name check an important influence in the early single Clash City Rockers.
A model for these young dudes was Mott the Hoople, not just the celebrated song but One of the Boys and Crash Street Kids.
The Dude was also a cartoon character in the New Music Express magazine.
Drummer Bruce Hambling was recruited, along with original bass guitarist Peter Coleman. Coleman left to become a doctor and Peter Lez White became the incumbent.
Urlich, White and Hambling are joined on stage tonight by Rikki Morris (brother Ian died in 2010), and ubiquitous guitar slinger Brett Adams (Mockers, Bads, Come Together ensemble).
Dave Dobbyn had given his blessings to his old band to perform,
Powerstation was packed and pulsating before support act Flaxxies appeared. They had played a headline show at the newly opened Double Whammy the previous night, and a review can be found here.
So, five old Dudes get up on stage and its déjà vu all over again.
Lots of alcohol, and old-fashioned rolled joints instead of vaping devices from the audience.
The sound desk was spot-on as usual, but the barrage of conversation, even front-of-stage, was more intrusive than usual.
The band ignites things by starting with Right First Time, one of several pub band anthems. Urlich’s vocals may be a little muted at first, but he soon gains traction.
On The Rox sounds like a Sixties Northern Soul dance-floor filler the way the engine room lays out the rhythm. Sparks fly as the lead guitar takes it out.
Take It Back. Appropriately nasty guitar licks and the singer snarls. Boomers getting quietly pissed and hearing moving in your direction/ Playing with your affections as erection.
That was likely part of the intention when this was played at the Windsor Castle or Gluepot in the late Seventies.
The Modern Choice is a personal favourite of Urlich, singing about a thousand girls. He gives it an air of weariness tonight. A guitar solo pulls it up by its boot laces.
That Look in Your Eyes is a highlight. Swamp Delta Blues emanates from the guitars on the intro. It’s a lugubrious chant which carries menace. The structure is Bowie from the Ziggy Stardust period, but the guitars play English Blues echoing early Fleetwood Mac.
This band was notorious for carrying on as entitled Rock stars in their day. Their debut single was Be Mine Tonight in early 1979, when Punk as peaking in New Zealand.
Morris sings this. Aaaaaaaasian cigarettes! Ringing drone guitars. As good as Tom Petty. Wonderful song but it carried a backlash.
I am transported back to the summer of 1980. January Anniversary weekend and the first Sweetwaters Festival in Ngāruawāhia.
Finished first year of university, which had been a blast. We were identifying socio-politically as Punks and getting obnoxious with it.
Elvis Costello was headlining the show. The highlight of the summer for us and expectations were winding up to breaking point.
Th’ Dudes were given the prize spot of playing just before him on the main stage. They played an incredible and incendiary performance.
But the effects of binge-drinking had a curious effect. At the front of the stage, we started booing and hurling empty beer cans. Some reports of eggs thrown, but I don’t remember those.
Dobbyn fielded a full beer can. Him and Urlich expressed anger. I’m sure he was being offered a drink.
I want to rewrite history and say we were doing a Dylan for Th’ Dudes. Booing them as a ritual gesture, to energise both parties.
To their credit they finished their set. A high point for their initial career. It took me a few months to drop the bullshit.
This was also the time of Disco Sucks!Prog Sucks! Slam dancing! Hoicking all over performers.
Th’ Dudes also played support for The Members Australasian tour in 1979. When they got to the Mainstreet venue on Queen Street, the Members players were covered in spit and mucus.
I watched from the mezzanine. Thrilled by the music and appalled by the behaviour. Thankful that hurling shit had not become a fad.
Incidentally, Jean-Marie Carroll guitarist for the Members played a gig at the Thirsty Dog, some time prior to Lockdown.
I was thinking he may appreciate a lazy spit in his direction as a ritual gesture. But he made a point of commenting on that notorious evening, and saying it was disgusting then as it is now. He remembers after 40 years.
You Can Make Me Dance from the band sounds a lot like the early flush of Elvis Costello.
Can’t Get Over You at All has great opening tribal drums which sounds like the Burundi drums of Bow Wow Wow going into roadrunner mode. The guitars launch themselves off the attack.
The band has picked up momentum as the show progresses. Maybe they don’t want it to end.
The version of Iggy Pop’s Passenger is definitive.
Bliss ends the show. A rowdy rugby clubroom drinking anthem. Also, a classic Folk chant for Union halls and camaraderie.
They don’t really want to end tonight, and we get two encores.
All The Young Dudes have something to say to all the old dudes.
Brothers back at home with his Beatles and his Stones/ We never got it off on that revolution stuff/ What a drag, too many snags.
Then it’s Sympathy for The Devil. A reflection of the seemingly fraught and chaotic Present Time. The Kennedys are mentioned. A missed assassination. A Kennedy is still in the mix.
I haven’t heard this song performed live, even from the Rolling Stones.
Th’ Dudes are still in the mix.
Rev. Orange Peel
Th’ Dudes
Flaxxies