Dont, whatever you do, let them look after your pet. And Kylie, like you ain’t never heard before
What, precisely, Melbourne’s Mammoth Mammoth have against household pets is open to question. On their last full-length on one of their songs they microwaved their cat after a Crystal Meth binge, so a couple of years later the fact they are only kicking their dog probably leaves said pooch thanking his lucky stars.
Nevertheless, that’s the basic theme of “Kicking The Dog” – and like the other 10 songs here – it is downright magnificent.
Because what they lack in subtlety (and if you want to sit around stroking your beard discussing chord changes then this ain’t the band for you) they make up for in writing mighty rock n roll.
Beginning with the title track is a masterstroke, because like Guns N Roses “Coma” all those years ago it finds a magnificent high gear right at the end and the sense of urgency in Mikey Tucker’s vocals when he sings “now I’m standing on a roof, hoping I can fly, gotta give me something, gotta fuckin’ try” is palpable. And even if you don’t know what he’s on about, you can assume its drugs….
MM often get lumped into the “stoner” section. And there is elements of desert rock about them, especially on work like “Spellbound” which comes from the dirt of the desert, that rather neglects the point.
Basically, if Mammoth Mammoth are a stoner band then they are a stoner band of the type that Lemmy would have been in if he’d been in the outback for a week with only a bottle of Jack and a shitload of speed for company. Only when looking at things in that way can you truly appreciate “Hole In The Head” which boasts a chorus so simple you’ll be singing it in seconds.
Bones on drums lays down the primal groove for the filthy rock of “Procrastination” – and you imagine these boys ain’t ever procrastinated in their lives – while there is a gleeful cheekiness about “Sleepwalker”.
“Epitome” is three minutes of near punk mayhem, and look they are Aussies, so you best believe they are allowed to effectively speed a bluesy riff of AC/DC’s about a million times and call it “Hard Way Down”.
A band, who you kinda hope walks it like they talk it and lives in a rancid bedsit like some re-enactment of The Young Ones, then helpfully provides a manual for debauchery with “Wild And Dead”, which they then follow up – in case there was any doubt – with “Cold Liquor”. It’s first line of “My life is sordid, I do as I please” should be the title of their memoir. The song itself is a belter too, and as dangerous as Kiss on their first few albums, when they still gave a shit.
But they ain’t done. Brother, there’s a bonus track and a half. Let’s all be honest and admit we all loved Kylie’s “Can’t Get You Out Of My Head”, well it’s here and it sounds so dirty it is untrue. Oh and it’s about drugs now. Of course it is.
Well boys, Kylie’s mine, Ms Minogue and this reviewer have had an unrequited love affair since 1987, but consider this. Antipodean pop princess she might be, but Michael Hutchence wrote “Suicide Blonde” about her (allegedly) so she might be as up for the party as you are.
Thing is, surely no one is up for the party quite like Mammoth Mammoth, and they rule.