It has just occurred to me that I have no idea about music in Melbourne.
It has just occurred to me that I have no idea about music in Melbourne. Like most, I like music, I listen to the radio, I go to gigs and festivals, but boy oh boy have I missed a glacier sitting right in front of me. Melbourne has always been a beacon of live music… but we’re currently boasting bands like Buried Horses, The Moxie and the incredible, incredible, incredible Toot Toot Toots. Did I say incredible? They were fucking incredible.
On a weird, sweaty, Sunday evening I arrived at the Toff without expectation, keen to see a band I didn’t know a lot about at all… I should have been sitting down, because I was almost floored when the gents kicked into an opener full of heartache and swampy swagger. This is the kind of music that’s epiphany-inducing, almost overdosing on soul and character. Not the kind of character that is used as a backhanded compliment to describe something that isn’t that good, I’m talking about the kind of character that myself and many like me are immune to. The kind of character that the J’s would’ve eaten up a decade ago, but now is probably deemed too risqué.
The Toot Toot Toots are the real deal, with joint-frontman Dan Hawkins jumping into the crowd and howling his lungs into the microphone. The stage is cluttered with band members and instruments ranging from a trombone to a mandolin. Just when you were sure you were in some kind of dream state, three go-go dancers emerge on stage, create a pocket of room and dance for their lives.
The band take you on a journey like watching a story unfold… which is what they’re going for with their EP being a concept story about "a family that probably shouldn’t have been a family". There are peaks and troughs, delicious harmonies and boot-scooting guitars. The generous crowd were going mental, stomping the floor and clapping their hands. There wasn’t anyone standing cross armed in the back corner taking notes, every audience member was just hollerin’ and dancing. It was honestly one of the best live gigs I have been too.
And then, just when you thought it couldn’t get any sweatier or better, The ‘Toots come on stage for an encore and play Fat Man Scoop’s classic hit Put Your Hands Up. It went absolutely bananas. With song names like Huntsman Vs Placenta, the band are a phenomenon. Do yourself a favour and take a step out of the bubble wrap-coated safety net that is mainstream indie and have a look around. There is a burgeoning underground-ish top notch music scene happening right under your noses. Get amongst it.
BY JACK PARSONS
