Died
Pretty #1
The following article was the first on Died
Pretty in Noise For Heroes, and originally appeared in #14 in the fall of 1988.
If I had to pick a
handful of bands from the current Australian crop that best exemplify the incredible
variety and vitality of the scene there, from hardcore to hard pop to avant garde to
garage band, I'd have to pick the Celibate Rifles, Happy Hate Me Nots, feedtime, Lime
Spiders, and Died Pretty. These bands are clearly among the best to emerge anywhere in the
80s; bands with power and vision that create songs that stay with you and don't lose their
grip as time goes by.
Died Pretty consist
of Mark Lock on bass, Frank Brunetti on keyboards, Chris Welsh on drums, Brett Myers on
guitar, and Ron Peno on vocals. The roots of the band trace back to two key bands from
Brisbane (home of the Saints, the Fun Things, and the Atlantic City of Australia), the
31st and the End, with the 31st providing Peno and Welsh, and the End providing Myers and
original Died Pretty rhythm section Colin Barwick (drums) and Jonathan Lickliter (bass).
Peno’s involvement in Australian music goes back a long way; starting with a band
called the Frozen Stiffs in early 1977 (which included future members of the
Psychosurgeons and Lipstick Killers) and quickly proceeding to the Hellcats (a hard
rocking band playing only covers by the usual classic 60s punk influences ) later that
year. The Hellcats lasted out 1977 and then split, and it was late 1979 before Peno
surfaced in another band, this time the 31st.
The Died Pretty name
was first used in August of 1981 for a band that was arguably the seedling Screaming
Tribesmen, and included Peno, Welsh, Mick Medew and Michael O’Connor (see the
Screaming Tribesmen article for more on this). This version of the band lasted only for a
month, at which point the real Screaming Tribesmen took shape and the name disappeared for
quite some time. Peno had been the singer for the original Tribesmen, but left at the end
of 1981 and was out of bands until April of 1983, when the End split and Myers became
available. The End actually had a single ("My Confession", released in 1981) to
their name...a significant accomplishment in those days, although it’s a fairly
mundane effort.
Frank Brunetti had
been a rock writer for the Sydney weekly rock magazine RAM (kind of an Aussie version of
New Musical Express, except not so obnoxious), and he joined from the ashes of Super K, a
bizarre amalgam of ex-superstars and almost-wuz-somebodies whose names grace the covers of
records by bands like the Birdmen and Hoodoo Gurus, yet managed only to produce one single
of fairly tame pop (which has been reissued on Citadel). This whole situation is more
incestuous and complex than you could ever hope to get a handle on unless you have access
to Harry Butler's fanzine DNA#49, an absolutely transmagical document that proves beyond
the shadow of a doubt that you can't judge a book by its cover...the thing is a horrible
looking mess of photocopied typewriting with felt tip pen captions, but it’s one of
the best Aussie fanzines ever.
Anyway, Died Pretty
started as a four piece under the moniker The Final Solution (from the Pere Ubu classic)
for their first two months, with the fourth member being (gasp!) Rob Younger! on drums!
This version of the band never actually got beyond the rehearsal stage, and their approach
centered around a fondness for New York vomit inducing agents Suicide. After a couple
months, the band reorganized without Younger and with two former members of The End,
Jonathan Lickliter on bass and Colin Barwick on drums. This line up of the band can be
heard on the "Out Of The Unknown" single, which was recorded in January 1984 and
released on Citadel, as have been all their records up until this year (when they switched
to Citadel spin off Blue Mosque). Their first live shows were in their home town of
Brisbane. According to Brett Myers, these shows didn't draw a huge number of people (like
70-80), but it was enough to keep the band happy. The shows were allegedly very
inconsistent and got them banned at a couple of venues.
It's at this point
that the band changed their name to Died Pretty for keeps. Myers claims that the name was
chosen as the only name suggested that didn't find at least one band member opponent who
hated it, and that it has absolutely no meaning. After the first single was recorded (with
Younger producing) it became apparent that Jonathan wasn't working out on bass, so he was
given the heave-ho and Mark was brought in at the start of a tour to Melbourne. Mark's
background isn't well documented anywhere that I've seen, except for a reference in the
liner notes of the "Hard To Beat" compilation that he once played in a band
called the Dum Dum Boys, which may be the same outfit that produced the great punk lp, Let
There Be Noise. If he's on that lp, it's under the name "Sid Noise". In
addition, he played in a band called the Swedish Rhythm Kings, whose only live appearance
was a gig for the Communist party in Brisbane, and one other much earlier appearance.
Anyway, Myers tabs this as the point where things began to attain critical mass for the
band; the shows in Melbourne were consistently good, and the crowds, whose preconceptions
of the band were solely based on the single, didn't have any of the biases the band felt
they were subjected to by Sydney crowds who had seen all the members in other bands at
various times, and had also seen their faltering first shows.
After this tour, in
August 1984, the band recorded another Rob Younger production, "Mirror Blues",
an epic 10 minute song that is split over both sides of the 7" record, but appears
whole on the 12" version available on What Goes On. This is the last Died Pretty
record to include Colin on drums; apparently he wanted to move away (ended up in India!)
and so the band went through a period of revolving drummers in which they wanted to get
Chris from the Screaming Tribesmen, but a bizarre situation developed in which neither
Chris nor Died Pretty could afford a drum kit, while the better off Tribesmen were able to
finance one for him. So Welsh played with the Tribesmen until the drum kit was paid for
and then made the jump. Mercenary bastard!
From here on the band
began to really solidify, and though the singles were both good, the band were now in a
position to show their real power. They did this in a curious way, with the release of
their mellowest record by far, the four track Next To Nothing ep, which reflects
the band’s roots in such diverse sources as the Velvet Underground, John Cale,
bluegrass music, and early Rolling Stones. This record was received to rave reviews by the
local cognoscenti (there were no non-local cognoscenti at this point) despite the fact
that its mellow and relaxed tenor flew in the face of the almost universal Australian
reverence to raucous, Birdman/Stooges type rock'n'roll. The record itself is a real
grower; the sort of thing that seems like a piece of fluff the first time you hear it and
grows steadily to eventually assume major proportions.
At this point the
soap opera twistings and turnings of personnel were over and the band settled into the
tour/record/tour syndrome, where they have been to today. Australia is a difficult place
to break out of, because it isn't big enough to make a home grown band a big deal on its
own, and if a band leaves too soon, they are lost in the morass of millions of British and
US bands also trying to make it big, and no matter how good they are, it is an
overwhelming proposition to gain acceptance based on one blitzkrieg overseas tour, which
is likely (as in the case of Radio Birdman) to drain a band of every last ounce of
vitality and heart. Died Pretty have taken a wise road in this regard; building their
overseas support gradually through a series of excellent record releases to the point
where they may have a chance to tour on their own terms as headliners in large club
settings, and in the meantime, sharpening their live show through repeated tours in the
increasingly competitive Australian concert marketplace. They've tried a couple of sample
forays just to test the waters, but nothing like a serious overseas saturation tour.
In 1986, the band
finally put out a full length lp, the fabulous Free Dirt, released on Citadel in
Australia, What Goes On? in the US and UK, and Closer in France. Well worth the wait, this
record exceeded all expectations by leaps. It's a mixed batch of uptempo tracks and
ballads, all of which work fantastically well, and contains what has to be considered the
band's masterpiece to date, the incredible "Blue Sky Day". I reviewed the lp in
full last issue, so I won't spend a lot more time belaboring it here; let's just say that
I count it a crucial lp for any collection and leave it at that.
Live the band are a
far cry from the sometimes too mellow bunch that appear on record...songs that rock
politely on vinyl careen wildly on stage as Ron Peno, who has referred to himself as
"the bastard son of Iggy Pop" flails his way around the stage, dropping to his
knees or crawling on the floor to emphasize a passage and bawling out the words in a
totally unintelligible fashion. Frank Brunetti is the professorial keyboard player, Mark
Lock the seemingly wide-eyed youngster on bass, Brett Myers the
seen-it-all-ain't-nuthin-new-to-me stoic sparingly doling out leads on guitar, and Chris
Welsh pounds out those fluid, rippling drum rolls like nobody else I can think of. It's a
devastating live act. I saw the band play in Sydney in November of 1987, just as the
"Winterland" single was released, but before the lp Lost, and here’s
how the show was reviewed:
The curtain (the
Tivoli actually drops a curtain between acts) rose and Died Pretty ripped into their set
with a vengeance. On record the band seems to be one of the mellowest Aussie bands, but
live that impression is totally dispelled. Ron Peno staggers wildly about the stage,
dropping to his knees to accentuate crucial lines, teasing bass player Mark Lock and
drummer Chris Welsh, and at one point crawling under the organ to bite keyboard player
Frank Brunetti on the leg. His vocals are as indecipherable as if they were sung in Latin,
but they still seem to drive home with a great deal of force.
The band concentrated
on material from the Free Dirt lp, although they also stuck in a powerful version
of "Out Of The Unknown" and the new single, "Winterland". Chris Welsh
proved to be a total animal on these last two, with wild fills propelling the songs along.
"Wigout" was performed without drums similarly to the flipside of the
"Winterland" single, with Welsh coming out to play tambourine.
As with their
records, it is difficult to break down this show and analyze individual songs. After
listening to Free Dirt over and over for nearly a year, I still know the titles to
only a few of the songs, although I instantly could recognize any of them. The brilliance
of Died Pretty lies in their ability to mold sounds and to strike responsive chords within
the listener, even if the listener is unable to express in words what his response was. In
many ways, I find that things that are written about REM (which are almost always
exaggerated) in truth apply to Died Pretty ten times as well. And strangely, the impact of
the live show that I received was totally different from the effect I get from their
records; the records seem very under control and restrained, while live, the same music
was displayed as a wild rush of adrenaline at the edge of complete explosion.
At the close of the
show, the last trains had already run back to Kings Cross where we were staying, but the
two mile walk back seemed a minor inconvenience to pay for a show like what we had just
seen. I felt that if the rest of the bands I saw in Sydney were as good, I would have to
move there permanently. As it turned out, subsequent shows by other bands were good and
sometimes excellent, but this Died Pretty show was one for the memory books; a band for
which the term "great" is really no exaggeration on a really hot night.
-------------------
As I mentioned above,
so far there have been two overseas forays; one in 1987 in which Chris Welsh received two
broken toes when a fruit truck backed over his feet in London, Ron Peno was assaulted in
New York, and Frank Brunetti broke his ankle in New Zealand. Their second look at the
outside world was slated to bring them to Italy, France, Belgium, Holland, Switzerland,
and the UK this spring, but not the US. I haven't heard any reports to date of whether
this one was any less disastrous.
Thus here in the
States, we've been able to get our hands on whatever Citadel imports make their way over,
or through the releases of What Goes On, which licenses some Citadel releases for US
distribution, but except for that one New York show, no chance for a live set. Those who
are aware have thus been treated to the fabulous "Stoneage Cinderella" 45,
recorded in the November 1985 sessions that also yielded the powerful Free Dirt lp,
a disc that will end up in the small pile of lps that have really made a difference. Last
fall it was another dynamic new single, "Winterland", and now this summer,
there's a new lp Lost to plant in your brain and the new single "Towers Of
Strength", as well as a reissue/compilation Pre-Deity lp that includes the
first two singles and the entire Next To Nothing ep. Rumors of more overseas tours
continue to fly, and with a little luck, we may actually see the band in the states this
year. Don't miss them if you have the chance to see them.
So what about the new
records? Well, Pre-Deity needs little more to be said about it; it has Citadel's
usual classy packaging with some good group photos, and the great early songs I've already
been lathering about for the past two issues. If you don't have 'em yet, this is a nice
way to get 'em.
The real new one, Lost,
is on Citadel's spin-off label, Blue Mosque. The lp jacket is a departure from their
normal style; no stark rural landscape pictures, but instead several soft shots of a young
boy's face. In the grooves there's little change in approach from Free Dirt.
There's the mix of ballads and rockers, the indecipherable lyrics, the supple keyboards
that actually complement the songs instead of wrecking as all too often happens, there's
the fluid undistorted guitar leads, the throbbing bass lines, and the deft bludgeoning
drumwork. Production and engineering are again handled by the team of Rob Younger and Alan
Thorne. The title track leads off, and although it doesn't compare with "Blue Sky
Day" as an opening thrust, there's no denying the quality in it...a typically solid
Died Pretty rocker. Next is "Out Of My Hands", which features Myer's singing
instead of Peno's (thus rendering it a little more comprehensible). It leads with a simple
organ riff that builds and builds and then is sliced in two with a beautiful guitar solo
by Myers. After almost a minute-long intro that says tons with no words at all, Myer's
vocals begin almost as though by accident. A killer.
"As Must
Have" and "Springenfall", the next two tracks, are ballads. But though I'm
generally not so enthusiastic about slower songs, and I'm sure most readers of this aren't
either, for some reason Died Pretty ballads work in spite of all my desires to go wild.
"As Must Have" is just Ron Peno and a simple guitar lead with no other backing,
but "Springenfall" builds from a simple beginning to a strong chorus, and then
backs down again into the subtle verse part. It doesn't seem possible until you hear it,
but the effect is powerful.
Side one closes with
last fall's "Winterland" single, which grabs your attention with Peno's opening
"puhtoo!" and rivets you to the wall the rest of the way. Peno's vocals are at
their greatest here, with loads of grunts, groans, coughs and other guttural noises
punctuating the attack. A great Died Pretty rocker as a single, and a great one on lp.
On side two, things
lead off with another ballad, "Caesar's Cold", another one that builds from a
quiet verse to a climactic chorus; the sort of thing Died Pretty pull off like nobody
else, probably because rather than acting as individual musicians, they act as a band;
each member contributes what's needed to give the desired effect, and if that means you
don't play anything for 30 seconds, that's what you do. Most bands never reach this fairly
simple level of understanding, and although for some bands it isn't important, if you want
to make use of space then it's crucial to realize that often what you don't play is as
important as what you do.
"Crawls
Away" is next, and this may give an idea why Peno thinks of himself as Iggy's bastard
son...it's a crazed rocker propelled by Chris Welsh's stuttering drumwork. Sadly it's the
last blaster, but the three closing ballads, "One Day", the single "Towers
Of Strength" and "Free Dirt" (typical Died Pretty stunt; have an lp called Free
Dirt and put the song "Free Dirt" on another one) are nevertheless not
something you'll find yourself cueing over.
Taken as a whole, Lost
is approximately the equal of Free Dirt for the quality of songs and the proportion
of rockers to ballads. Free Dirt had the benefit of being the first Died Pretty lp,
with no real basis for comparison other than two singles and an ep. The tendency is thus
to rate Free Dirt as great and this one as merely good. Some might even say it
represents a holding pattern. But this is unfair, because the level set by Free Dirt
is so high; just maintaining that level has to be regarded as an impressive achievement. I
can guarantee that Lost will be in my top five lps for the year by year's end, and
it'll sit proudly in it's place next to a well worn Free Dirt lp for years to come.
