• Rating:
«Bleach», «God's Balls», «Mudhoney».
It's 1989 when in Seattle they start getting serious about sparking a fire that can warm the heart, much like the one that blazed in 1976.
It happens that three guys from Melbourne, Peter, Ross, and Bill, decide to head over there, where the action is, and maybe someone will even notice them.
They, who some time before had formed a band – the Cosmic Psychos – and in the fateful 1989 release their second album.
The third, not forgetting the debut EP.
The music that's blazing in Seattle is something they feel, a matter of attitude, something that distance or borders can't stop.
A strange word begins to circulate, “grunge”, which translates to dirt, filth.
«I heard that term for the first time from a sound technician, he tagged us with it during a sound check, it must have been '84, but who the hell remembers», says Ross, captured in «Blokes You Can Trust», and believe it or not.
Anyway, the three fly off to Seattle.
And if someone opens a door for them, they sneak right in.
It turns out that as soon as they set foot on the land of opportunity, all those kids who are building the Seattle scene at that very moment just swarm around them.
Just like when the Ramones landed in London to catch the vibe, 1977, and all sorts of weirdos with nicknames that are worse than their looks crowded around them, the punk, the strummer, and whoever else.
But this is the short story of the Cosmic Psychos.
And so, still inside «Blokes You Can Trust», there are many – off the top of my head, I name Mark Arm and Eddie Vedder, Donita Sparks, and even Butch Vig, and I'll remember the others only after watching the film again – saying how important these three Australians are for the grunge scene and that the spotlight has been turned on Seattle, it's true, but it would have been even better if they had been pointed at Melbourne.
The Cosmic Psychos are, in a few words, the baddest group to have ever infested the '80s.
Ugly, dirty, bad.
And of a trucker ignorance that is unparalleled.
All day shoveling pig manure on the farm.
Just finished, drooling over the poster of Elle Macpherson.
Then venting, drowning everything in quarter-order beer from some quarter-order pub.
And then exhausting themselves, in some other pub that's still open and serves low-quality alcohol on the sly.
These are Peter, Ross, and Bill.
These are their songs.
The music is the most devastating crossover of Stooges and Motorhead ever produced.
From the debut Stooges, there are the superfuzzbigmuff guitar riffs and Peter's diabolical wha wha, Peter who has the Ron Asheton poster hanging next to the one of Elle Macpherson above his bed.
From Motorhead, there's the relentless drive that never runs out, giving itself up to the most disastrous rock'n'roll and beyond.
It's all within three records.
The EP «Down on the Farm» is the first, 1985.
They are a punk band.
They throw in three tracks that all go beyond six minutes and spew out three hallucinatory and heavy blues tunes that haven't been heard for so long they've been forgotten.
But it can easily be hard rock.
Just the intro of «Custom Credit» is enough, anyway, no need to argue too much about it.
Two years and here comes the self-titled.
Inside there's their country-in-their-own-way version of «Custom Credit» and to hell with Nashville.
There's the first anthem to pass down to the future, «Going Down».
There's also the second anthem to bequeath to posterity, «David Lee Roth», but I move on.
It's 1989 when they start getting serious in Seattle.
They pull out the third, «Go the Hack».
Nine tracks that smash everything.
As a rule, when I have to ramble about some blistering attack, I always and invariably pull out «Give'em Enough Rope».
But only because nobody knows the Cosmic Psychos and «Go the Hack» and I don't feel like explaining.
Actually, this one – «Lost Cause», «Rip'n'Dig», «She's Crackin' Up» – fires a thousand watts more than «Give'em».
And then another six tracks that don't give an inch.
Between bad nights at the pub and even the anthem for the longed-for Elle.
Ugly, dirty, and bad.
The greatest.
Period.
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