Billy Childish, Brian Jonestown Massacre, The Black Keys
Brian ‘Braan’ L’Huillier Dane ‘Valentine’ Beesley Crystle ‘Fleepwood Mac’ Fleper
The Black Keys, Brian Jonestown Massacre, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
Blood in the sand, saloon doors swinging in empty bars, cowering women and children, a lone gunman strides towards a mounted posse, grizzled and readied for his fate. One last desperate lunge from the one woman that still cares for him shrugged mercilessly to the ground. The Dead Shades play like a concept album, of jaw-dropping machismo, desert-blues, and a pre-peyote blues explosion, but there’s is a universe inhabited by haunted darkness, by the anti-hero’s of Eastwood, the femme fatales of Hitchcock; they are the western where the good guys don’t wear white. Renowned for electric live shows, shandies and late night hypodermic noodles this band of Rock ‘n Roll outlaws from Brisbane reads like a who’s who: Lovers Of Modern Art frontman Brian L’Huillier (ex-The Daybridges), [A:M] constituent Crystle Fleper (ex-Hot Rubber Glove), and Rolling Stone photographer and Le Fricken Hecks bassist Dane Beesley. Sex, sand and Wah pedals may sound oh-so-LA with Wavves and Best Coast setting blogs wagging but the Dead Shades are less concerned with on-shore winds and left-hand breaks and set their sites on the wide open spaces of death valley, it’s tall shadows and abandoned gas stations, it’s howling winds and tumbling weeds, it’s crumbling infrastructure and merciless heat. If solitute is bliss, the Australian trio have captured the hiss, moans and torment of its uncertainty. A motley crew of the good the bad and the kooky, the Dead Shades play their brand of menacing cow-blues with hip-shaking, bourbon-soaked, pantie-wringing rifferama. Dirtier than your drunken stepfather, Dead Shades are a Nick Cave revenge fantasy gone rogue, a Tex-as Perkins fronted Beasts of…Shandy. There Will Be Riffs.