LifeMusicMedia Sunday Selection is your weekly view to Queensland Artists

[Photo: Jo Bell]

Here Comes The Sunburys is the debut album from Brisbane’s freshest antidote to unlistenable radio. As their name suggests, The Sunburys are a band with an appreciation of great moments in the history of rock and roll. Like Steve Marriott quitting the Small Faces to form Humble Pie. Or Bob Dylan going electric. Moments when greats become legends, risking obscurity for the sake of creative integrity. Having already done the rounds of Australian festivals, enjoyed high rotation radio and flaunted their chops on national television in previous bands, The Sunburys have taken a diversion. They are prepared to risk not being popular, for the sake of making music for people with soul and good taste. They don’t really give a toss about whether you approve of their haircuts. They do love the swagger of warranted attitude, but have little time for those who rank style above substance.

The Sunburys‘ debut album, much of which was recorded live in producer Jeff Lovejoy’s garage, cuts to the chase. It exudes no-bullshit musicianship, considered but unpretentious songwriting and spirited, sweaty performances.

The Sunburys‘ music melds elements from a vast melting pot of influences – 40 years of British rock, American legends from Dylan to Tom Petty, to Wilco and Neil Young, and great Aussie songsmiths like Tim Rogers, Paul Kelly, Stevie Wright and Tex, Don & Charlie.

The Sunburys are oldschool, but the next Wolfmother they are not. Their songs have a recognisable soul rock context, but also a distinct flavour of indeterminate origin, the essence of Sunbury. Their music is inspired as much by test cricket, frustrating dayjobs, and animated drunken conversations – about girls, relationships, beers, science, philosophy, timely comeuppances and annoying wankers – as by rock legends of yore.

The Sunburys are a band of craft and character. Frontman Anthony Dettori’s wry lyrics and disarmingly warm vocals interweave with no-nonsense, catchy guitar riffs. His songs are engaging, whether raucous and overdriven, or intimately acoustic.

Charismatic drummer Scott Lapthorne provides freakishly complementary punch, swagger and nuance – evident on record but also endlessly entertaining live.

And rounding out the regulars, Andrew (“Junior”) O’Sullivan anchors the groove on bass and adds colour with sweet (but strictly manly) backing vocals. On Here Comes The Sunburys and also occasionally live, Morgan (“.on the organ”) Wilson joins this bunch of reprobates as resident Doctor John and Minister for Depletion of Rider.

Producer Jeff Lovejoy proved the perfect ears to steer the album project, capturing a vintage live performance vibe and preserving that gutsy, raw feeling by minimising studio overdubs. With uncommon nous and maturity, he prioritised emotion and performance ahead of “shimmer”, to cut to the heart of what the band are about. The result is a straight shooting, no frills, deeply refreshing record, and an outstanding debut.

People who remember fondly the heyday of You Am I will find much to love here. The token singles Rosalina’s, Today, Borderline and Turn Off the Radio (difficult to choose, nestled amongst an arsenal of hummable tunes) would defy even the most jaded indie kid to restrain their inner footstomper.

More subtle, mellow tracks like Soul Singer hint subtly at an untapped reservoir of sensitivity and complexity, prompting salivating anticipation of the band’s next album, which is already in preproduction.