Looking For A Tyre To Burn
It is with a mixed mood that I report from the frontline of the climate challenge/crisis/collapse: there's weed odour in the air, there's a cop trying to signal to some 16-year-old fifth-generation-Kurtd-look-a-like to stop jaywalking, there's a thousand-times more passion than I had at their age. There's a fair bit of uplifting hope right here, on a suitably hot one, Hyde Park, Australia.
But alongside that, there's the unshakable idea (those overarching skyscrapers that frame the Western Front of the grassy clearing) that The System just rolls on. This isn't the centre of the universe, it's not even the centre of this one city. And, as such, this isn't a shut down of Syders, an impolite demand to take notice, an attention-grabbin' inconvenience. It feels more like a tucked-away compromise, of sorts.
This could end right here. A mere observation, an uncommitted journal draft. Or it could be segwayed smoothly to some Richer Media, either via a wink 'n' nod ("speaking of strikes, here's a Melbourne rock trio called Life Strike") or something slightly more abstract about the album title (Primitive Future) being an apt fit for what we're hurtling towards - a boiling hot planet, Waterworld 2.0, endless bushfires, no Grandkids etc etc.
And, appropriate still, it doesn't matter how we get there. On a record that's mostly jolty pop-punk in the classic Dollar Bar format (there's a connection here) - ie. gone and done before you want it to be - my pick is the longform standout, a near-four-minute burner than flips from measured builds to rushed thrusts of frustration to fist-pumping elation, perfect for pub set closing. Or protests.
Primitive Strike is out now everywhere. Catch Life Strike launching it at Beechworth tonight and more importantly (for me), at an afternoon show at Petersham Bowling Club tomorrow (Saturday, September 21st), ahead of a couple more Melbourne dates over the next few weeks; details here.