Add this to the list of coulda-shouldas: Why didn’t I see UV Race when I had the chance? One listen to the Melbourne band’s sophomore full-length, and I started kicking myself hard for bailing on their tour with Total Control; these jams are so sweaty raw, so studded with sax and Stooges and shrill noise, they must’ve shattered the foundations of show-houses nationwide.
But listen, they’ll shatter your speakers too, if you let ‘em. Homo’s a riot of energy, the kind that thrives in a live setting but works just as well (if a little more tempered) on record. Tracks like “Girl In My Head” and “Low” buzz with a sort of Velvet Underground meets Wipers vibe, all sloppy jangle and singalongs, while “Lost My Way” and “Nazicistic” waft around the idea of a ballad—except not really, because no number of wistful-ish progressions and airy backing vocals really take the edge off all that screech and scuzz.
Still, despite the noisy dissolves on, say, “Burn That Cat” (and lyrics that go dark as often as they do unintelligible; see “Down Your Street”), Homo is a super-upbeat record. Bouncy, grimy fun, conjuring all those images of frontman Marcus on stage in neon fringe and ballerina costumes. Not that I’d know from experience. Totally blew that opportunity. But I’ll content myself with Homo until one day, maybe, these Aussie garage-punk paragons make their way back Stateside.