DOLLSQUAD
Hordern Pavillion, Sydney
November 20, 2010

Words: BOB SHORT
Photo: TARA ANDERSON


Share What kind of shrivelled penis does not love Dollsquad? I mean to say; what's not to love? I know that there are some miserable souls who have pointed out that their jumpsuits are not, in fact, leather. It is true that those jumpsuits are made out of some kind of softer and slinkier material. Is that really a complaint? There are the "purists" who try to con themselves that the gimmick has no place in the beast we call rock and roll. There are even some who believe that a good night out requires getting smacked repeatedly around the head with a length of 4x2.

It's a Saturday night and the Dollsquad are on stage at the Hordern Pavilion. Yes, that Hordern Pavilion. The big one in the centre of town. The same one you may have seen Suzi Quatro strut her stuff at way back in prehistoric times. Sure, they're playing a short unbilled set in the half-time gap at the Roller Derby but, at the end of the day, their c.v. will still say Hordern Pavilion. It also means they have a captive audience of a couple of thousand people who would probably never venture out to the Sandringham or the Annandale. Will the girls do good? Enough feigned suspense. Of course they will.

The whole floor in front of the stage is reserved for the Derby track, a danger zone where scantily dressed young women rocket past on skates and pretend to beat the living shit out of each other. The organisers tell us we can go to the suicide seating area but we must not cross the yellow and black line of death. Well, fuck that. If Dollsquad are playing, a word to the wise; you want to be up front. In the time it takes between the rattle of vocalist Joey's chain and the opening chord of "Cave Gurl", I have charged their laughable line of death and begun to frug and shimmy. I am not alone. There is an actual run at the stage happening. Dollsquad Mania is finally a reality.

(Un)freshly bearded and wearing new purple booties, manager Steve Lucas is up front stage left indulging his Kim Fowley fantasy. "Flog the fucking album," he shouts desperately. Dollsquad oblige, play all killer and no filler. Yolanda does her cute little Johnny Thunders thing and suburban roller boys are giving her devil head salutes. Backstage, I see the organisers actually dancing. People are smiling and cheering. I bet you are wishing that you were there. An announcer tries to cut them off and return to normal programming. The "sport" must go on. "More" the audience yell.

Dollsquad do more. Not as much as I would have liked but I would rather have had two hours of Dollsquad and 20 minutes of Roller Derby than the vice versa my ticket bought me. I make no bones about it. I went to the Hordern to see Dollsquad. I am a fan. Fortunately, after this gig, I'm guessing Dollsquad will have quite a few more.

 

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