Live Review: West Thebarton

Previously on 'The Continuing Adventures of West Thebarton', we left our heroes beaming in triumph from the Governor Hindmarsh main stage, a sweaty throng of fans cheering madly. The band had just finished a blistering hometown gig to launch their debut record Different Beings Being Different. It was the kind of show attended by nervous first-time gig-goers, crusty old hard rockers, friends, siblings and long-lost cousins. Up the back were West Theb’s conservatively dressed and quietly proud parents. Guitarist Tom Gordon later declared it their “best ever gig”.

But will happen next? Will West Thebarton be swallowed up by the commercial record industry? Will they tour endlessly and become nervous wrecks? Will they quietly disappear and return to their day jobs, having already exceeded their wildest dreams? Will they be hastily forgotten by fickle, fashion-following young hipsters? Or will the band become pretentious and conceited, deliver a bloated second album and disappear up their own bums? 

Well, no. In tonight’s exciting episode, West Thebarton do something classy and cool: a gig for their old-school hometown fans at the smallest, scungiest rock venue Adelaide has to offer. In fact, they did it last night as well, and The Cranker was of course sold out each time.
 
The overcrowded band room had already been knocked flat by Anatomy, Basics, and Bible Camp when perpetually hoarse frontman Ray Dalfsen told the punters they were “fucking amazing”. It was a reciprocal sentiment, and more cheers erupted when the band launched into Dolewave, apparently for the last time ever.

But as well as retiring old songs, the band tested out new, unreleased material with titles like 'Hypersensitivity' and choruses like “You make me wanna hate myself”. It sounded as though their next record will be even bigger and catchier than the first.

Crowd favourites Stuck On You and Glenn McGrath followed while chin-stroking onlookers questioned the merits of having four guitarists in one band. But the empirical evidence showed that as well as whipping up one hell of a noise, having seven members gives West Thebarton’s performances a signature propulsion and silly over-the-topness that’s fun and endearing.

Dalfsen pulled some old Silverchair schtick late in the set by instructing the tightly packed audience to sit down and keep still until his say so. Buzzing with beer, adrenalin, sweat and who knows what else, the punters could barely wait for Dalfen’s signal, and when it finally came, bedlam ensued. A song called Moving Out was always going to be catnip for the first generation of millennials to attend Schoolies Week. But in the hands of West Thebarton, it’s a bona fide Aussie youth anthem. We want to move back home so we can move out all over again.

So what’s next? What will the band come up with while they takes a well-earned break from touring? Will it be songs about shit landlords? Share-house grocery shopping? Having to do your own ironing? Or just more songs about cricketers? Find out all this and more in the next thrilling instalment of 'The Continuing Adventures of West Thebarton'!