Butterfingers

I entered The Factory to the VERY LOUD (high volume is The Factory’s prerogative, seeing as they’re situated in a bunker in an industrial area under a flight-path. Hey - maybe they should get some metal bands out??) rap antics of Bukk City, two guys that recently made the move from the States. New York attitude can be pretty hard for anyone outside of the boroughs to stomach at times, and most of the crowd appeared standoffish at first. At the guys’ encouragement, however, the space in front of the stage filled up nicely. The beats carried us there, would’ve been icing to hear what they were saying, though.
After a short break, we were confronted with Bluejuice, otherwise known as the guys that sing that song on JJJ (there’s a lot of bands that go under this moniker – we’ll have to start numbering them), ‘Vitriol’, and appear semi-naked on their advertising (a markedly lesser number).
The energy coming off the stage was a kind of happy infection; you just couldn’t keep your rebellious feet from joining the others up there in front. There wasn’t enough room down there when they busted out the song mentioned above, and the ragingly simular ‘I’m Unemployed’ seemed to work some dance-floor magic over the crowd as well. This band, though a bit odd, turned out to be the perfect openers for the bogan rhyming style of Brisbane boys Butterfingers.
Yep - I went in expecting a set wholly full of toilet humour (literally) and boy-talk. Sort of a ‘Tales of Australian Pie’ set to music. But what ended up taking me by surprise was the variety this band threw in. Every now and again, when the XXX-swilling blokiness in the crowd got too much, the band would bust out a bunch of metal riffs, or even more surprisingly, some progressive intensity. It caught me off-guard, but did nothing to thin the ranks of the willing; yes, it is possible to dance to spiky riffs and odd key changes - that was well proven. Maybe we’ll see a Butterfingers: The Tool Tribute sometime in the future?

Or not. But you get the picture.
The real action, as you’d expect for a cult radio band, was reserved for those JJJ hits – which are probably as ingrained in the average Aussie listener’s cerebrum as the national anthem. The gross-out cheekiness of ‘Everytime’ was well received, along with slacker-anthem ‘I Love Work’, - MCs Eddy Jacobson and Olly Thomas’ lyrics were intoned by everyone in the crowd with a vocal chord to work off. It was impossible not to dance – the music almost did the work for you.

‘Yo Mama’ was always going to be the finale, and the band pulled it off with charismatic style and class. Well – as much as you can muster when you’re talking about screwing your best friend’s mother. Let’s say everyone went home happy.

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