Those Peabodies
(Post-Parlo)
The untold secret about LPs under 30 minutes: They’re easier to play twice. Twice as easy. At 10 songs in 28 minutes — 28 minutes that blister like Aqua Velva on razor burn — Those Peabodies dares you not to (a) turn it up, and (b) crank it up louder the second time. Post-punk hard rock that makes you wanna horse-step around the room like you had a Les Paul on your hip, this invigorating local debut will have you clearing some space in order to r-o-c-k. Better move that chair. Live, these four skinny scruffs don’t look old enough to shave, hammering out thick, steely riffs like twin blade action was their invention. In the studio, at least when this was cut, Those Peabodies are Clarke Wilson (bass, guitar, voice) and Adam Hatley (drums, guitar, voice). The results are the same: Angus and Malcolm Young with or without Cliff Williams and Phil Rudd. “Arrived” sounds like something from Powerage or Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap, with guest shots from James Williamson and Wayne Kramer. The “Pictures of Matchstick Men” intro to “Judie,” the “Too Quick” shout-out (“Oh, no — watchout!!!! Here comes the rock out!!!”) offer up the forked horn symbol like the Supersuckers in their heyday. No one’s written “Let There Be Rock,” but “Party at My House” leaves a righteous mess, and even though the songs are over before you mark a beginning or end, they’re not all one song. They’re all one play. Make that two. (Wednesday, March 14, Ritz Lounge, midnight)
This article appears in March 9 • 2001.
