Share HOUBLON ATTRACTION - The Spant’x (Action Recordz)
My campaign to explain mediocrity approaches completion. I take a picture of this disc and place it beside the word in my copy of Webster’s New World Dictionary. Can Spant’x play? Sure they can. They play every riff you know and love note perfect. They shuffle them together and make songs. The singer couldn’t hum his way out of a wet paper bag. Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt and regretted it the day after.
They reach into their bag of stolen tricks and pull out a little rock and roll, a bit of country and a dash of ska. Pretty much like 10,000 pub bands I’ve seen in the last 35 years. Here is tradition be it far from noble. Here is playing middle of the bill on an average night with a headline act you have never heard of. The crowd kind of loves you in so much as they clap every now and then. They’ve had enough beer by now to appreciate this leaden cocktail of bruised masculinity and drunken psychosis. It’s not as if the music isn’t half decent and there’s a woman about to pass out in the corner. You figure you might be in there with half a chance.
Lyrically, the band naturally deals in tales of stupid whores and gangbangs. This may be an attempt to offend but it makes me stifle a yawn. Banal misogyny is one of the leading signifiers of mediocrity in a musical group. It tells you that these guys can’t get a root (Australian for "fuck") even if they try to pay for one. Their music is sexless because there is every chance they have never had sex with a woman.
The cover of this disc suggests the contents are made entirely of beer. I believe the band has got this about right. Where I have said some terrible things about its consumption, I know many of you like beer. It is a great leveller of men. I prefer 101 proof bourbon myself or total abstinence, depending on my mood. There is a verse in the bible I like to quote at moments like this. Be ye either hot or cold or the Lord will spit you out. I have drawn a swig from Spant’x’s glass and they should consider themselves spittoon bound. – Bob Short
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