Live Review: Darren Hanlon, The Burnt Sausages, The Goon Sax

You can’t help but notice that the configuration of young local trio The Goon Sax is eerily reminiscent of early The Go-Betweens – lanky singer/guitarist, shorter bassist taking vocal reins at intervals, blonde female drummer – which is possibly partly due to the taller frontman being Louis Forster, direct descendent of Robert.

The apple sure doesn’t fall far from the tree, but what impresses during the short set isn’t the band’s lineage but rather their fully-formed songs and lazily disarming aesthetic, as much influenced by modern contemporaries such as Twerps and Dick Diver as the older bands with whom they’ll surely always be compared. The writing/delivery styles of Forster and James Harrison differ significantly but complement well as they intermittently swap roles, rarely straying from the formula of quiet, catchy jangle pop and wistful, well-crafted lyrics which clearly comes so naturally.

The next set opens with three people dressed as huge snags in a massive silver-foil meat-tray prop hidden behind a wall of cling-wrap which they gleefully burst through – this can only be Melbourne ensemble The Burnt Sausages, self-confessed lead purveyors of the ‘BBQ punk’ oeuvre. It’s a barrage of shouty, synth-heavy anthems about all things snag-related, tracks with titles such as Sauce, Total Fire Ban, Get Out Of My Grill and Too Many Onions. They’re joined by a massive slice of bread and a huge pair of tongs and there’s a lot of bad food-related puns flying around – at times the shtick threatens to wear thin, but it’s done with just enough panache and intelligence to pull it out of the fire.

Eventually it’s time for Gympie’s greatest ambassador and all-round good guy Darren Hanlon to enter the fray, flashing that cheeky smile and offering a curt “Hi Brisbane”, before kicking off with a solo rendition of My Love Is An Ocean Away, his pure diction and free-flowing way with words winning all over from the get-go. He jokes about being back on home turf and channels Violent Soho by dropping in the Gympie postcode (4570 for newbs) before moving onto the existential Folk Insomnia – dishing humour and gravitas in equal doses – before he’s joined by drummer Steph Hughes (of Dick Diver and Boomgates fame) and double bassist Lyndon Blue and they move onto Hiccups, the sound now fuller and abetted by Hughes’ soft voice which complements Hanlon’s vocals wonderfully.

They’re tonight launching new album Where Did You Come From?, and its tunes like Trust Your Feelings (When You Wake) and Fear Of The Civil War stack up nicely against old chestnuts like Happiness Is A Chemical and Punk’s Not Dead. Hanlon remains effortlessly personable and this easy charm illuminates proceedings, a solo rendition of A To Z proving delightful as do versions of I Wish That I Was Beautiful For You, Electric Skeleton and The Chattanooga Shoot Shoot. Before the set finishes the whole band (and those crazy sausages) smash a round of shots for Blue’s birthday – further raising the joviality quotient – and the strong showing concludes with an encore of All These Things (replete with ukulele), the remorseful When You Go and a solo acoustic cover of Giorgio Moroder & Phil Oakey’s Together In Electric Dreams to ensure the night finishes aptly with a room full of smiles and camaraderie. Mission accomplished.