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Dune Rats

Yes I am doing an article on Dune Rats, probably the only band I can say you may already know because they did a load of bongs once (SEE). They sound like Australia’s answer America’s bratty west coast Surf-punk bands like Wavves and FIDLAR, looking suitably grimey and probably smelling like they showered in bong water. There’s something press-grabbingly cool about these guys though, an effortless no fucks given attitude that doesn’t feel like it’s something they dress themselves in every morning; you get the feeling that these guys really, really live like this. In this tour diary video thingy you see the guys doing the standard sex fueled, druggy house party gig that you feel to many bands is just a tired thing to do when they need a new music video. However there’s a spontaneity and wildness to the video that feels so real and leaves you feeling exactly how a band should – Wondering why you’re not doing what their doing but with the knowledge that even if you tried you could never do it this well. This is a band that I feel could be inspiringly punk rock and yes maybe it’s a little contrived and maybe i’m just being sucking in by the same press spin that I feel these guys are so unaware of but there’s not many bands these days that make my jaw drop and think – Fuck, that’s cool.

Obviously the above essay (my bad) would all the irrelevant if the tunes weren’t up to scratch but thankfully Dune Rats deliver their own brand of surf tunes with a halcyon euphoria that lets the tracks breathe. They sound free in a way that the USA’s protective shield of irony could never let them achieve. On Fuck It, these guys remember to include a simple memorable hook. One line into the first verse, the 2 word mantra rings out. It’s not shouted, or screamed, no such effort needs to be put into getting this point across. With a simple snarling, nonchalance the words ‘Fuck It’ sound out and ensure that 10 seconds in, i’m not going to forget this song.

Quite frankly I don’t know why I’ve gone a bit mental over this band but I think in this uncharacteristically British heatwave, having a group of grungy Aussies that have a reached a level of not-caring so out of the realms of what most humans can achieve sound-tracking your every move makes complete sense. And if not, fuck it.




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