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Because I couldn’t have said it better than Jello Biafra, I’ll just pull a lazy move and copy, 'another thing about Australia, they’re the only country outside the U.S. with a warped enough sense of humor to create something like Flipper. On the surface, Grong-Grong sound a wee bit like Birthday Party, until you realize they’re repeating the same riff over and over and over again, till people can’t take it anymore. But in Adelaide, a lot of people liked them. Imagine, if you can, a singer with a black ski mask pulled over his head, with a cowboy hat, pacing back and forth on stage growling at people for 45 minutes straight; a guitarist who just plays the same riff over and over looks like the parody of a 50’s greaser; a bass player whose sound was very similar to Will Shatter’s and visually looked like Randy from The Alleycats if he’d been in a mental institution doing speed for 10 years; and a drummer with a carefully quaffed 50’s pompadour that looked like a younger version of Tim Y. I lay awake for about two nights after seeing Grong-Grong, still wondering if I actually saw what I really saw.'
And I second that. Now that time has passed I may never have the opportunity to witness the Grong-Grong party, but still, after six spins of To Hell ‘N’ Back it is very likely that I will stay awake for a couple of nights, rocking this shit out, smashing some of the china, stabbing my daughter’s stuffed teddy bear, dancing by myself, in the basement like one of those fools in Beyond the Valley of the Dollls, terrorizing the neighbor’s kid by blaring this chaos into his clean childhood. This is absolutely fantastic.
I say, and I quote myself, ‘Australia, like certain parts of the US is the inane land of underground weirdos, where only a few sidelined enthusiasts could bang out virulent noise only to suddenly find themselves in some dingy basement at the edge of the city, surrounded by rats and scummy turds, numbly dancing to their degenerate sound. Yes, turds can dance and vultures can sing (and sometimes blow into saxophones) when shirtless and donning a ski mask, which judging by the proceedings could pass as the executioner’s headgear. Strident strings sting like stingrays, a few unsung and unmelodic chords are battered into our earholes until they take whatever shape we think to hear. Like the country, the bass is also inane, thrown in the back, humbly adding the low tone to an otherwise high-pitched dirty slab of a recording. Its bouncy tone is dull and monotonous, perfect buddy to the steady beats of the no-frills, no chills George Kilestinis. Is this the greatest band I had never heard? Quite possibly. Is this punk? Yeah. Is this hardcore? Yeah. Is this noise rock? Yeah. Is this funk? Absolutely. Is this good? Some bitch would say, ‘you betcha!’
To Hell ‘N’ Back is a reissue of the 1986 self-titled debut album. It was initially released in the US by Alternative Tentacles and this edition includes studio demos, live cuts, rehearsal tapes plus a DVD. Essential doesn’t even begin to describe it.
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