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HEY MOOK
Never gets you anywhere
CHILTONE RECORDS
present the new CD
by Hobart's Hey Mook.
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HEY MOOK TRYING TO GET SOMEWHERE
Arriving at a well cushioned shed interior somewhere in New
Town, I realize that this is a useable metaphor for the music of
the guys who practice in here. The sound of 'Hey Mook' and
their new album Never Gets You Anywhere can be a tad harsh, like
the exterior of a good shed, but inside the songs you can find
well rounded melodies and poetic flourish. The riffs are
original and the rhythm, such as in the opening track
Everything, opaquely sublime. From the opening line of the
album 'sick of telling me lies/why thank you for the truth' the
exterior of the shed is apparent, but the subtle guitar
work, immaculate bass and drum blending timelessly with some
wizened keyboard nostalgia on the inside, well.... 'and she
left, like a footprint/lost in the snow ' By the second song you
are thinking, these guys are onto something, a solid outfit,
fresh as the cool Tasmanian air, dark as an antipodean stout.
Half way to Mars is a sweet red mirror ball ballad with a hook
from Venus. Its sounds like its coming from far away and that
can't be bad these days.
Hey mook share the lead singing three
ways throughout the album giving it a complexity that far from
being disjointed is seamless and thematic. The third studio
album, Never gets you anywhere is easily their best produced,
able to penetrate the airwaves of the mosaic that is FM radio.
All the tracks are strong with main songwriter Pearce putting up
some memorable turns of phrase, none better than ' I cracked a
shot glass albatross' on the song Memoir of a Drunk, allegedly
written after witnessing a stupefied Shane McGowan on stage.
These folks have been together for years and it comes though
strongly, especially in songs like the closer, Fifty Dollar
Haircut, I mean you simply cannot come up with riffs like that
without a decent underlying chemistry. A rather cynical little
ditty, this last song has the potential to be huge, were it done
by perhaps the Dandy Warhol's. I imagine Hey Mook would laugh
at such a suggestion and rather dwell in other music worlds
[Television, Alex Chilton , Townes and Prine, AMC, Uncle
Tupelo/Wilco or closer to home the Go Betweens let alone Neil
Young, The Band and Bob Dylan].
Behind the Clock is a
pathological number that has some real gravity about it. A
historical slice of life on the seams in ol' Hobart Town,
delivered with an ample helping of edginess. Along with the
title track these are songs for the ages, in a place like
Tasmania these stories need to be told in ways other than the
newsprint. On a lighter note Signed a heartbeat is a brilliantly
abstract song that conjures up images of compulsive credit card
spending and murder, is there a difference? After standing on
the killers(Jerry Lee Lewis) hands in Memphis, Pearce signed a
heartbeat "I felt a flash," Perhaps the memories of the place
just can't but help flood the mind of the song writing soul.
With some nice horn section work here Hey Mook have come up with
a modern day classic recalling the Saints punk meets soul.
Ironically there is great purpose to Never gets you anywhere and
we can only be hopeful that the diminishing ratio for album
returns from Hey Mook continues. Once again they have produced
an album that you can live with, great stuff.
Newk MacGowan
The Admission Chronicles 13/02/05
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ISSUE0002 featuring The Admission Chronicles.
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HEY MOOK
Never gets you anywhere
CHILTONE RECORDS
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" .... bursts with talent and inspiration."
Gabrielle Rish - The Mercury 2005
.... read more.
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" .... a thoroughly original Tasmanian voice."
Tim Cox - The Mercury 2005
.... read more.
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Hey mook the venue december ten 2004!
It's been a while since these cats played. The venue all shook up like an attic in a dream, forgotten treasure stored away. No insulation buts it's a warm night. No stage(to speak of) but it's a warm crowd. The nonchalants are very nonchalant, non commital but non too foul, Neil Young burns away his toast somewhere on the other side of the world.
The guys form Hey Mook walk up and down stairs, nicotine and wine trail. Enola fall on stage, a downpour of heart and ethereal. A mood builds in the attic, the small bar rattles like cotton shells. Unassuming, they reel out the numbers, thematically coherent. Good lads loving their music, well written and well appreciated.
Hey Mook, too old to be awake, it's after midnight, the walls are closing in. The shuffling crowd gets bigger. Hobart town smells the vinegar and chips, anticipation is the witness of adventure. There must be 200 people in here, how did they all fit up that skinny stairwell. The chords resonate, "lets go down the docks" perfect, and the Mooks are off. They're into it this night, in the attic, above the docks. Pearce sings like a sailor, the guitars are brought down in unison, notes from innards of Hobart. Country folk with a punk edge and I've never met a poetic punk. A seven piece, there's a lot of support up there but nowhere to hide. Everything is smooth.
The crowd is milling about, pleased with what they are seeing and hearing, this is a good performance. The horns of dilemma kick in, "I signed a heartbeat/on the killers hands." A danceable number and the punters shake. The singing is crystal clear, the poetry capturing. The mood greys as Hey Mook play 'behind the clock' a somewhat mesmeric ditty written on the dark side of the moon. But wait the singer is using wordspeak. A barely comprehensible dietribe painting an atmosphere. Somewhere in memphis, roots and scoots, the crowd love it and the squeamish squeam. Where is the red mirror ball? The mixer is on the money and no one leaves. 'Memoir of a drunk' is very memorable. 'I cracked a shotglass albatross' the barometer actually did drop but it was too sweaty to know. They played the whole album 'never gets you anywhere' and it got 'em....out of the attic. A solid performance from a great bunch of songwriters. sloping down the stairwell it seems there are friends from afar who've journeyed to be here and one gets the feeling they rather be no where else.
Newk Macgowan
Source :The Admission Chronicles
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"A surreal spectacle ensued.
Like the Doghouse of the early days re-enacted,
those crusty die hard fans doing their mookish dance ...."
Read more about the 2004 CD Launch here ....
KNOW YOUR PRODUCT
MOOKS UNEARTHED
"HEY MOOK are touted by many as the finest original band to come out of Hobart - revive the old men and the C chords."
All this and more in the digitally restored PRESS PRESS interview
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