Dukes of Windsor

This should not have been a free gig.

Memo to the Esplanade: you could've raked it in with this lineup!
Not only the golden boys of Dukes of Windsor,but the support of three brilliant Melbourne acts.

Opening tonight's festivities was World's End Press, a greatly underrated psychedelic trip-rock commotion. The crowd didn’t warm to them as much as expected, though their ‘hippie’ stylings were battling against a fairly indie-punk scenester crowd. Dirty Pink Jeans were a more mainstream and cheerily harmless addition to the bill; their indie rock is, while pleasant, typical. Unfortunately, the sound is every-bloody-where at the moment (through no fault of theirs! They are a good band!) that the bands are simply melding into one giant fuzzy-guitared monster.

Braindead Lovers came on a little stronger. Drinking more from the Punk fountain, they attempted to meld their own tastes (The Clash, T-Rex, etc) with the current sound of today’s bands (see above). The British influence is clear, though not thievingly so; they are resting in a comfortable groove between The Strokes and The Buzzcocks, though history would advise swinging into one direction or another soon enough.

Dukes of Windsor finally took to stage, greeted with a pulsating and excitable crowd. I wondered cynically (or, typically, if you’re me) how many punters knew DOW beyond the TV Rock remix of “The Others”, and how surprised they’d be to find a rock band, rather than an electro-house outfit. Nevertheless, DOW are a powerhouse: firmly cementing themselves as one of Australia’s best, and catchiest, home-grown talents. Luckily forming their now distinguishing sound before the indie-electro wave (I like to call it the Fluro Rebellion) in 2005, they have sent hips shaking and arms pumping all over Oz since.

Tracks like “Handsome Man” and “Tear This Party Down” are (as well as personal favourites) guaranteed crowd- pleasers. There was no shoegazing at the Espy tonight: beer and hair and purses flying all over the shop. So you can imagine the reaction when launching into their dancefloor-massacring magnum opus; “The Others”. It was the crowd could do not to implode. Their synth-rock sound was bouncing all over the walls, and hard to contain within one’s own feet, also. The lurching, jerking guitar was often so powerful, forceful, that before you know it, you’re robot-dancing like an 80’s bitch (just me?).

Although the Melbourne night was freezing, and the usual drunken louts were out polluting the air once again with catcalls and gibberish, trundling home was no difficulty tonight: one day, when Dukes are big and rich and famous (and most likely living in LA, such is the circle of Australia music life) I can say, “Oh I knew them when..”. Watch out, world.

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