Andrew Visits The Tote, Gets Blown

…away.

It was Friday night and I’d gotten a call out of the blue to meet up with two women that I’d had various relations with. Those relations had ended in a turbo clusterfuck (they are best friends) and the call was for the hand-off of goods, as I had one of the girls DVD that I’d never watched.

The rendezvous point ended up being The Tote, and I headed down after prettying myself up. Even though the situation was more awkward than a swastika tattoo at a briss, I’d had enough beer not to care. The girl I actually had feelings for was there for a band called Uncle Chunk. She said they were like early Regurgitator and that was all the convincing I needed to fork out $10 to see the gigs.

The bands were largely forgettable.. save one. The Beards.

I didn’t know anything about them. In fact, I found out they were playing when I was waiting in line to order a beer. A portly middle aged woman with flowing blonde curly hair walked up beside me and started giving me the eye.

“How’s your night?”

I love using this old chestnut. You can usually gauge how drunk / smart / dangerous a person is by asking this question, and its easy enough to say when you’re fucking smasht yourself.

“Good, I’m here to see the beards. They just got back to Melbourne* after a tour to Alaska for the World Beard Championships.”

Travelling to another country for a tournament? Pah! and for what, Beards? The exchange had ended abruptly as she’d opted to walk over to man in his mid twenties who then found his System of a Down-like beard being molested by the rotund goldy locks. He looked at me for help, but there was nothing I could do. It was funny watching this guy who looked like a likely candidate to instigate a back alley stab’n'rape being rendered helpless at the hands of a drunk cougar with a beard fetish.

I grab my beer and they’re setting up. Yep, the guys all have beards.. it was good to see a band deliver on their namesake. As much as I love NIN I’ve never ONCE seen a Nine Inch Nail.

The lead singer is in aviators, an ill fitting shirt and looks like a fat Lemmy from Motörhead. They begin their set and I immediately realize what I’m looking at.. to call them an Aussie Tenacious D wouldn’t be giving them enough credit. But the reality is, you’re really looking at Jack Black and Kyle Gas, except with beards.. plus a drummer and bass player. Singing about beards. Passionately.

Experiencing the band, the lyrics, the satire, was nothing short of surreal. I couldn’t have chosen a better way for the set to go. Someone to my right says “wow, that guy can really play guitar!” The guitar player pulls a saxophone from nowhere. The perfect timing illicits laughter. A kazoo is plucked from a pocket injecting the appropriate cheese into the crust of this bands proverbial musical pizza.. and its fucking delicious.

Big bushy and brown / Keeps going down and down
He’s leaves nobody in doubt / He’s got the best beard out

After the up beat cock rock, things get broken down with some bluesy sax and vocals with “My Baby Left Me for a Man Without a Beard.” Like all good musical comedy, this band spans the genres.

I literally could not have figured out a way to stage a more cheesy, satirical and above all FUN rock set if I had a month, a 21 standard drink and $50 a day per diem along with a hot asian secretary – and thats a big call. I’m pretty sure I could cure cancer with those resources.. or at least get hammered enough to think I did.

I managed to hold a camera fairly steady while laughing and enjoying this band.. you’ll notice my contribution around 1:35 – enjoy.

You can check them out on MySpace here. If you hear they’re playing somewhere, do yourself a favor and check them out, buy their CD, but above all.. open yourself up to the beautiful world of Beard Love.

* I’ve found out they are from Adelaide. I guess that means 3 good things have come out of Adelaide.. Adam “courageous” Revell, Coopers Pale Ale and The Beards (in that order)