​THE AXEMAN'S JAZZ
BEASTS OF BOURBON
(Green)
​
Let's get this much straight right here and now: with a stick-
insect frame crowned by a birdsnest barnett, Tex Deadly does look
an awful lot like one Nick Cave (will this man's influence never
cease?), but thankfully, that’s where the resemblance ends. Unlike
the succubus hordes who would merely emulate their master Saint
Nick, Tex Deadly is a character of Greg Perkins’ invention, quite
unique and rather appealing. Tex is certainly something of a
celebrity in his adopted Sydney, presently commanding two different
groups, Salamander Jim and the Beasts Of Bourbon. It's more difficult
to define the generic limits to which these groups extend, with
terms like 'swamp music' and 'psychobilly' being bandied about all
too freely, but I think it would he fair to describe Tex as a true
country-punk, more country than the Gun Club and more punk
than Rank & File.
 
Displaying not a hint of dilettantism, Tex has travelled the
rural off ramp at least since his first group the Dum-Dums arrived
in Sydney from Brisbane nearly two years ago. With the Dum-Dums'
demise, the first incarnation of the Beasts Of Bourbon was born,
comprising as well as Tex himself Scientists Kim Salmon (guitar)
and Boris Sudjovic (bass), Johnny Spencer P. Jones (guitar) and
Hoodoo Guru James Baker (drums). When this line-up split to go
separate ways, Tex returned as Salamander Jim, a trio including
Salmon again plus the Church's drummer Richard Ploog. The Scientists’
departure for Europe put an end to the Deadly/Salmon partnership,
but since then Tex has re-emerged again with new aggregations of
both Salamander Jim and the Beasts Of Bourbon (who are currently
on tour, with Gurus' guitarist Brad Shepherd and current Salamander
Jim bass-man Stu Spasm replacing the missing Scientists).
 
This album was recorded by the original Beasts’ line-up in very much a
‘super-session’ fashion. It’s already urban myth the way it was done – the
boys booked the studio for a day, grabbed desk-master Tony Cohen, bottles
of hard liquor, cartons of beer and other stimulants and just did it. And you
can make all the accusations of boys’ club/rock-star hijinks you like and it
won’t matter, because the result, with production credit going to Green-man
Roger Grierson, is an album that feels great. On The Axeman’s Jazz the
uninhibited Beasts Of Bourbon swing easy, there is an empathy of musicians
blowing well together, but that’s not to say it’s without sting, because
improvisation is kept to a minimum within the songs and they amass a
considerable momentum.
 
Nor is this a Party Boys-like exercise in replaying everybody else’s greatest
hits. Beyond version of Creedence’s “Graveyard Train” and the country classic “Psycho,” all the songs emit from Tex or thereabouts, and there’s some
damn fine material in there. As titles like “Evil Ruby,” “Lonesome Bones”
and “The Day Marty Robbins Died” suggest the imagery is pretty much stock-standard steers’ skulls, but it’s infused with a genuine perversity, not to mention
a self-mocking and bizarre humour. After all, how else could anybody do a song called “Love & Death”? And then, to close the album, “Ten Wheels for Jesus,”
which would have Red Sovine turning in his grave.
 
Who do these guys think they are? The mutant offspring of an aberrant
input, the Beasts Of Bourbon are iconoclasts who, thanks to the virtue of
distance, maul and mangle country music mythology in order to create their
own. Did Tex Deadly undergo s ome sort of transformational experience on
the road between Brisbane and Sydney? Is it not insignificant that this is
​where Tamworth lies?