Gold Class - Drum

All the emasculated posturing that the electro-pop and synth-rock revival brought to the Australian music scene a few years ago was enough to make me renounce my citizenship. Probably not with the compulsion that Brexit, or the orange buffoon, might bring elsewhere, but the absence of good Australian rock music was disconcerting. Christ, people think Royal Headache are good, but that’s like saying Foals are good, and it feels that our exports are akin to nuclear waste dumping. Anyway, bands like Gold Class provide some remedy through this period of musical convalescence, with a brand of straight-ahead rock music which dispenses with all that stylistically ambiguous art-rock nonsense that passes through to the keeper as progressive music.  

They’re not perfect but some of their songs are downright raucous, partly because Adam Curley’s downbeat baritone voice amplifies at a level even his hyperactive rhythm section can’t match. It’s all top gear with the brake-lines cut, the guitars belting out the post-punk hymnal, and the whole enterprise powered by an uncontrolled spike in the grid. Songs like ‘Rosebud’, ‘Twist in the Dark’ and ‘Thinking of Strangers’ are going to be pretty seismic live as well, because they contain five star hooks. 

The urgency in Gold Class’s rock music is kind of old school. They get to the point quickly, totally ensconced as they are in the kind of rock sound which audiences enjoy, one with a fast lead-off, a snappy and very singable loud chorus, and no meandering guitar breaks. I really like these guys. They sound like proper rock musicians to me. You know, guys that spend more time doing garage practice than manufacturing a favourable on-line presence. Probably to their detriment. Forever consigned to trendy inner-city pubs with a smaller capacity than your local Maccas, but hell, if they come to Sydney, I’ll be one of them, masquerading in the dark as a fresh-faced fan, until the lights reveal I’m really one of rock music’s senior citizenry. Oh well, I’ll pay the door fee. 

If you’re getting sick of rock bands with a manifesto of styles more lurid than the latest Versace swimwear collection, then check them out.