King Parrot - Gig Review 4th August @ The Duke of Enmore, Sydney NSW
King Parrot
The Duke of Enmore, Sydney NSW.
August 4, 2023
Supports: Astrodeath, Black Rheno, Choof, Carnal Viscera
Trying to get a park in Enmore at lunchtime on a Friday is a futile and stupid gesture. Last time I drove here was for Pennywise and somehow I landed an unmarked VIP spot 100 yards from the Enmore Theatre. This time round I've done a dozen laps of the joint and landed a 1 hour spot a mile from the strip. It’s only 2pm and I’m eyeing off what is looking to be a long and chaotic night ahead.
So why in the name of all that’s stupid am I here so early for a gig that starts at 7pm? Because tonight is King Parrot at The Duke of Enmore. They’ve brought with them the most stacked lineup that Australia’s underground has ever seen and I wasn’t about to risk missing it by coming after work. Just Astrodeath and Black Rheno are worth the price of admission alone, but being joined by Choof and Carnal Viscera as well means tonight may very well end up as the single greatest shitfight this town will ever see. What is the price of admission I hear you ask? It’s free. These lunatics have only gone and made this whole event free. This may get messy.
Me and my mate Jack set up camp early by the big window at the side of the dance floor and I can’t help but feel like we like the two old hecklers from The Muppets. It’s peaceful at this point and after talking to a few staff members it definitely has a calm before the storm feel. After a feed, Tim from Astrodeath pulls up outside and I give him a hand lugging in a van's load of gear while we talk about his band's plans for world domination. Over the next couple of hours, more and more punters start to fill out the joint and by the time the King Parrot bus pulls up at around 6pm, the place is already over half full.
King Parrot fans are a different breed and I mean that with the highest level of respect. While it’s been stated in some circles that it’s not necessarily cool to wear a particular band's shirt to their gig, that clearly isn’t the case tonight. Even if it was the case, King Parrot fans do not give a single fashionable fuck. One bloke is decked out in a beanie, jeans, shirt, and battle jacket, all of which are emblazoned in some fashion with a King Parrot patch, embroidery, screen print or Texta mark that might say “Get Fucked - Slatts” on it. The rest of the rabble, also decked out proudly in KP merch dating back from over a decade ago all look to know each other, all through their love of this great Aussie band.
As the band’s bus pulls up, even before King Parrot exits the vehicle, all drinks are put down and every fan rolls out to greet them. The airport trailer full of equipment opens and every bastard grabs something and starts lugging the gear in like they’ve done it a thousand times before. The gear is stacked accordingly, drinks are returned to, and we all just stand around, watching the lads set up. Between tasks, the blokes from King Parrot go around greeting familiar faces and this whole thing feels like a family reunion in many ways.
Now keep in mind. The gig hasn’t started yet. Soundcheck has only just begun and there’s already a crowd circling that some bands would be thrilled with. Bass player Slatts starts yelling “noise, noise, noise” into the microphone and after a bit of faffing about, vocalist Youngy steps up and the lads rip into a six song set that includes a ditty that hasn’t been released yet. A couple of legends start dancing immediately while everybody else starts headbanging and singing along. There’s already a mini mosh going on and remember, the show hasn’t started yet. This is just the soundcheck and the place is already starting to churn.
It’s finally go time as Carnal Viscera take the stage. Half a song in and the security is already fighting a lost cause. The pit is circling and it’s getting tight in here. It’s Scott the drummer’s last show with the band. He cops the brunt of the verbal abuse and so does his Mum. It’s all friendly fire but there’s a lot of talk of dead babies directed at them both. The energy in this room is amazing though and Carnal Viscera have a staunch following all of their own. They close out the set with 'Amalgamated Cluster Corpse' saying:
“This song is about being fucked to death by a big ball of space zombies.”
Their handful of hangers-on know every twisted word. Absolutely killer.
During the break having a yarn to some bloke at the bar I ask, “how good is this lineup?” to which he replies, “Mate, it’s bulletproof”. Perfectly stated. I tell him I’ve not seen Choof before and he says, “You’re not ready. Just you wait”.
Choof roll onto the stage with all the presence of a pack of blokes that fight for fun. The barefoot singer is calling us all stupid, while armed with a bowl of fruit and orange peels that he spends the entirety of the set piffing at punters. At one point he spits on the roof (and I’m sure it’s still hanging there) before jamming some peels between his toes to feed to some bloke in the crowd with no sense of self-preservation or fear of the dangers of foot fungus. Choof are vile, raucous and a shit tonne of fun. They attack this crowd with vigour and approach tonight’s gig with the intention of blowing every other band off the stage. If you’re easily grossed out then this band is never going to be your cup of tea. But if you like being screamed at while being hit over the head with a banana and having beer poured down the throat then this mob are definitely for you. Absolute insanity. Maniacally brilliant. The bloke at the bar was right. I was not ready.
Black Rheno head out and the crowd react like they all got the winning ticket in the meat tray. I’ve seen these blokes a bunch of times and even I wasn’t prepared for tonight's frenetic display. Vocalist Milla and guitarist Nano launch themselves into the crowd as if it needed a rev-up. This is the first time I’ve seen Milla wear shoes on stage and I don’t blame him after what Choof just did to the place. He sees some bloke in the pit with nice leather boots on and somehow gets him to swap them for the checkered slippers he’s got on. Proceedings are starting to get wild and by the time everyone yells out “Ah fuck I stubbed me toe” during ‘No Time For Numb Nuts’ it's complete bedlam. The pit is less of a gang of music fans and more of a meat grinder, spilling this minced metal mob onto the stage. Absolutely epic. I look across to the lads in Astrodeath and they bear the look of a pair of lads that are wondering how the hell they’re going to go about following that up.
I visit the Carnal Viscera merch table and they get to telling me about their upcoming split EP with the lunatics from Choof. They show me their epic cover art and it’s insane. I suggest that when the orders for it go out, instead of them signing it, could they please draw dicks all over it. “Bloody Oath we can.” Sorted. I’m buying one for my mum as well.
Astrodeath storm out, rip in and destroy what’s left of my bloody hearing. The wall of sound these two blokes produce is ridiculous and I’m always dumb enough to stand right next to the speaker. Half a song in and a small scuffle starts between two turds in the crowd that get upset when someone else touches them in this very busy moshpit. They’re vastly outnumbered though and swiftly get sorted out by the astute security and a handful of punters. After tearing through ‘Leviathan Rising’, vocalist Tim utters “Thanks guys, except those couple of Ning Nongs”. They continue playing to this charged-up room as they rip through a solid section of their incredible new album - and if you haven’t grabbed it then for fucks sake get a shuffle on. “Who likes Black Sabbath? asks Tim as he starts instructing punters to jump on stage and even drummer Yoshi has to dodge a couple of legends as they rip through ‘Children of The Grave’. Putting microphones on Yoshi’s kit feels like a waste of time because he hits the thing so bloody hard. The lads close out with ‘Relentless Brutality’ and at this point, it’s already been a massive night. Astrodeath have delivered a headline-worthy set and continue to cement themselves as one of Australia’s must-see bands. They thank the crowd before a mass exodus to the bar. There are a few thirsty punters on hand and it’s best to get hydrated before the final onslaught of the night.
Slatts leads the charge onto the stage, leans into the mic and lets us know that it's been an “absolute cunt of a day” as the legends from King Parrot emerge to a huge cheer from this rowdy pack of Sydney’s finest. Drummer Toddy starts giving the kit hell to bring in opener ‘Silly Ol’ Mate’ and about halfway through Squiz’s guitar rig goes to shit and begins to pump out a noise that has all the charm of a nagging spouse. The guys stop as Slatts yells “No refunds. No refunds”. Youngy says “lets do that again ay” and we get a much welcomed do-over. ‘No Coincidence’, ‘Disgrace Yourself’ and ‘Bozo’ follow before Slatts chimes in and declares “I'm calling it early. I’m having a fucking good time. How good is the air-con in this joint?” The rabble on hand concur as their combined sweat starts dripping from the roof.
Youngy screams “NEED NO SAVIOUR” as I look across to see guitarist Mr. White sparking up a dart on stage. It’s not affecting the air quality in any way as it’s very quickly turned into a swamp in here. The seccies are doing what’s needed, but this KP crowd can take care of themselves for the most part. But there is a bit too much action spilling onto the stage so a couple of legends from behind the bar jump into the front of the pit and keep the hyperactive bastards from collapsing onto the stage. From here on it’s good ol’ fashioned mayhem as King Parrot tears through a massive 16-song set that whips the horde into more and more of a frenzy. By the time they tear through closer ‘Shit On The Liver’, The Duke of Enmore has been turned on it's head. The bands, staff and punters have all been in this together, making this the party that King Parrot wanted us to have before they Jetset off to America.
If you were an outsider looking in, I wouldn’t blame you for thinking that this was just a pack of lunatics collectively losing their shit in a small room to a lot of loud noise. But what you’re not seeing is a huge showing of mutual affection between King Parrot and their people. This is evidenced further by the dedication on their tour shirt to their brother Boyd Synnott, a long time collaborator and the 6th member of KP. On the way out I see Jordan from the now-closed Frankie's Pizza and after a quick catch up he introduces me to Sab, the owner of the Duke. Every bit of what Frankie's was, is now coming back in this venue. The music, the people, the feel, even the pizza by the slice.
Tonight was epic. An absolute all-time gig featuring an insane lineup in a hell of a venue. I won’t forget this gig in a hurry. Don’t bother talking to me. I can’t hear a bloody thing. Now I’m off to have a long shower.
Review by Duane James @duanejames666
Photos also by Duane, capturing the madness from start to climax.
