Bowling For Soup – Gig Review & Photo Gallery 12th December @ Corner Hotel, Melb VIC

Bowling For Soup
Corner Hotel, Melbourne/Naarm VIC
December 12, 2024
Support: Taylor Acorn

The Killers‘ sold out three-night-stint at Rod Laver Arena kicked off spectacularly Thursday night with the same three songs Triple M plays 47 times a day, that song Justin Timberlake pantomimes through the fourth wall in that flop movie Southland Tale, the guy who made Donnie Darko did over 20 years ago (which also had The Rock and Buffy in it), some other taupe-rock from the seven other albums they’ve released that almost no one cares about, the first song off their first album which absolutely fucking bangs, and heaps of lasers and pyro and long lines to piss and drink and whateverthefuck.

We true musical Epicureans were down the road at the much fancier Corner Hotel watching Bowling For Soup play a bunch of other equally wonderful songs commercial radio never plays, and one they do all the time. This is largely because the world is run by ruthless capitalist lizard-people and focus groups who don’t like self-deprecating chubby old guys who do music for love and fun instead of money and bathing in fresh human blood.

30 fuckin’ years of BFS, hey? Shiiit. That’s an age. Like, nearly literally my entire age. Way longer than those dead-eyed corporate shills The Killers up the street – with their equally priced merch but quintuple-times-infinity-sized houses and bank accounts – that’s for sure. Any inveterate musical Texans writing non-country tunes about things opposed to the right to own a big truck while wearing jeans and brandishing a firearm are unmitigated winners in this reviewer’s book, and it’s double nice to see the egregiously underrated pop punk outfit return to the shores of Earth’s oldest recognised culture. Especially after we were assured by the band about a decade ago that that wouldn’t happen anymore. It’s nice time often makes fools of us all.

One failed viral apocalypse and an imminent nuclear one later, every dyed-in-the-wool pop punk fans’ other favourite band were back to be really fucking funny, catchy, and fun for a bit before we all go back to being creaky and responsible for 40-60 hours a week.

Despite being from the south, BFS come from somewhere very north of Melbourne. What is a direction when you really think about it? Did the members of Bowling For Soup have one when they started a band around when CD’s were invented? It’s assured Jaret, Gary, Rob and their inveterate crew won’t make a million bucks on this tour – unlike those ruthlessly capitalist Mormon world-burners The evil fuckin’ Killers turgidly honouring their pact with faceless, abject CEO’s merely to perpetuate the drinking of Earth’s very finite and irreplaceable lifeforce  – but they provide a service that brings the world joy, and have at least as many fans to sell out The Corner on a Thursday on the other side of this planet. That’s commendable as fuck.

BFS are also one hit-and-a-half wonders to countless millions across the globe. It’s an unfair label, and not just because heaps of people – thanks to a mislabelling on ancient torrent goddess Limewire – believe they also wrote and play ‘Stacy’s Mom‘ by Fountains Of Wayne. Even saw Jaret bait a crowd to cheer for it at Soundwave a decade back. We were so young and easily misled…

Way after that last bit but right before all the rest of it, the very talented and humble Taylor Acorn took the stage to surprise a bunch of unfamiliar early punters with an anthemic, Paramore-adjacent clutch of very likeable emo-flavoured pop punk tunes. The drums was tight, the guitar was spinny and evocative, there was no bassist, and Taylor’s got a very formidable set of pipes on her. The venue’s mixer and speakers did her voice exquisite justice. Absolutely had it soaring. Few cheered when Taylor queried about fans before tonight, but all will be when they’re back for her next tour, such was their gracious and fun presence. Good luck, Taylor Acorn and Co. You’re living your dreams!

Hey look, it’s Bowling For Soup! Fucking love this band. Not $55 for a shirt love, but still smash on drums and scream in the car for two decades love, y’know? They’re the metaphorical funnest of fun uncles in everyone’s 2000’s playlists. ‘High School Never Ends‘ is a genuinely insightful piece of astute and ingenious social commentary, even if some of the cool young celebrities mentioned in the song are now in their 50’s. BFS are lauded as goofy (and they are), but much of their lyrical content is so universally relatable that even strangers to the music immediately grasp the subject matter. Lowkey pop song writing geniuses, these boys; we all know a ‘Girl All the Bad Guys Want‘, heaps of us love ‘Normal Chicks‘, everyone is familiar with the iconic pop culture watermarks of ‘1985‘, and all love covers of popular pop songs funnelled through a pop punk aesthetic! What’s not to love on a night out with the utterly personable and glee-inducing Bowling For Soup? Especially on their last show of 2024. They were going hard on the Guinness and crowd interaction, and the fans ate it up as usual.

New Found Glory used to make shirts that said “Pop Punk’s Not Dead!”, but they haven’t toured here in fucking ages (still love u 4 eva NFG). But BFS were here again for real, and it’s a swell treat worth respecting after so long on the road. It’s probably really fucking hard to tour for 30 years. That’s devoting your life to entraining others (and being a wee bit rich and famous, of course). No easy feat. Heaps of bands that have ‘made it’ never consider Australia again, despite still directing patriotic merch at them and proclaiming love for us all down here (looking at you, Rancid).

When the foolish bogan-ass crowd demanded a shoey like it’s 2009 schoolies and the lead singer of a band deftly proclaims NO like “Boo me all you want, I already have your money”, and “I don’t need to give in to peer pressure because I’m already famous!”, you know you’re looking at a rare and beautiful beast from a largely bygone era. A true world-touring, punk rock veteran with deft timing, a shit-eating grin, and a personal relationship to their audience, something like those wretched money-puppet homunculi The Killers can never give you while auto-tuned and 20 metres away on a stadium stage.*

Don’t not come back again, BFS. 1985 was 40 years ago, so if you last another ten then a band that comes out in 2035 can include you in their generation’s version of it! Full circle, baby.

*I was just joking the whole time, Mr. Flowers and Co. You do you.

Review and Gallery by Todd Gingell @gingerly_done
Please Credit Wall Of Sound and Todd Gingell if you repost photos.

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