The Duke Spirit
w/ Last Gypsies
For their much-anticipated visit to our sunburnt country, The Duke Spirit have taken over The Curtin Band Room for an evening of glammed-up psych-rock. For their second show in as many nights, the not-so-secret international act is accompanied by local lads Last Gypsies with their particular take on the genre.
The Gypsies’ set starts off with someone throwing a beer over guitarist Bryan (and his polka dots), to which Mark responds, "We’re not the Sex Pistols". Rightly said - they most certainly are nothing of the sort. With their murky meandering soundscapes drenched with subtleties, hints of Brian Jonestown Massacre and Velvet Underground seep their way through in places. You’ll find yourself enveloped in something of a relentless trance. From first listen, these boys promise more than merely appearances - there seems more to them than just spray-on jeans and nice boots, something more tangible. Up front, Mark is a gypsy of sorts; bewitching with his subtle, ethereal echoes, his voice at times reminiscent of an earlier Lou Reed. He clings to his microphone stand with a desperate nostalgia as if it were a lover lost. This feeling is evermore reiterated by the murky sonics flowing from the boys on strings.
The audience does not hesitate to partake in this affair either, with song interludes filled with random flute melodies from one member or calls that ‘the drummer has a huge cock’ from another (although I must say, he does look rather harmless sitting behind his kit with his cute-geek tie and vest ensemble).
I thought gypsy boy Mark was quite possibly the best looking tambourine player in town; he is surely outdone though when the lovely Leila Moss takes to the stage. One glance and Blondie evidently comes to mind, with her blunt cropped golden locks and her super short gold sequined number. The Dukes kick off with the stormy Lassoo, this one much in the vein of the Jesus and Mary Chain. I have no intention of pigeonholing them into a genre – while you may hear elements of the Pixies or Sonic Youth, they are avidly attempting to transcend these influences and forge their very own sound.
Likewise, Moss’ languid raspy vocals draw parallels to Mazzy Star or Grace Slick for obvious reasons, yet she makes it her own somehow. Her onstage flair as she prances about on those leggy pins, all the while shaking that tambourine of hers, is something else. It is a difficult task to take on, being the ‘frontwoman’ of a rock band, but she undeniably pulls it off with style.
The Step and the Walk is second on the list, with its bluesy guitars rampaging behind the husky coos from Moss. They slow the tempo down a bit for the next track, with the blonde bombshell upfront provocatively lifting up her mini-dress (she was wearing tights, much to the disappointment of male onlookers). Miss Moss also employs her trusty harmonica toward the latter part of this song, and so too with their next number This Ship was Built to Last. This track is a personal favourite, with that magnetic voice cutting through torrents of bass and slide guitar. Lady Leila up front announces ‘We’re going to play one more…my voice is fucked’, before launching into Cuts Across The Land. She gives one last effort to belt out “I will do it till I know it’s real” before dropping to her knees at the end.
Sure, by some standards there’s nothing exceptional about their musicianship, but in their sound, the Dukes flirt between the realms of psychedelic blues and some good old rock in its raw essence that has been dearly missed in recent years.
