Instrumentally flawed.

First Published in The Skinny – May 1, 2009

When motoring ‘neath the leafed canopies of rural Victoria one might be tempted to burst into song, or at least stop at a wayside inn to hear rough-hewn farmhands produce the Range’s idiosyncratic musical stylings, but here’s the thing – in order to know when one is in the presence of the real thing one must know what to listen for.

Avoid anything to do with acoustic guitars as these are only good for tiresome drones about lurve gone wrong and as props for video clips – their timid plunkings are not within the range of a human hearing so for a truly authentic regional aural experience look for nice, shiny electric guitars, the pointier the better.

Beware also the double bass, a monster which sounds like a fart in a bath and is only ever heaved around by ex-urban luddites possessed of the notion that ‘Country music’ is played by those that live there – the locals wisely leave these behemoths in the back rooms of the deserted Antique Shoppes that are the instruments’ natural habitat and opt instead for the more 20th Century five and six string solid bodied numbers capable of 9.5 on the Richter Scale.

Steel or side guitars of any persuasion are to be avoided at all costs unless utilized in the performance of Rose Tattoo’s ‘Bad Boy For Love’ or similar and anyone spotted singing with their finger in their ear should be given a wide swerve in case they start singing unaccompanied bush ballad. If, however, said performer is merely reacting to the feedback of the 3,000,000,000 watt Public Address system traditionally used for staging such provincial entertainments then you’re in the right place, because the country is not a little bit country – it’s whole lot of a lot rock ‘n’ roll.