Project Description

BONES ATLAS

@ El Sol, Cronulla

(Live Review)

15/04/18

Reviewer: Robert Farnan

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On Sunday evening, Cronulla was empty. Where was everyone?

A quick trip to the local Mexican bar, El Sol, would have answered that question because Bones Atlas were set to perform after a couple of years hiatus and locals had packed out the joint.

The idiosyncratic sound of Bones Atlas, a four-piece band led by Sammy Ackerman, sits somewhere between the genres of blues-rock and psychedelic funk.

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Replete with fast and rhythmic riffs that benefit from slight distortion, verses are interspersed by the unbridled and raw power of the guitars and Sammy’s nostalgic vocals. Clearly influenced by the style and energy of Jimi Hendrix, Bones Atlas did a good job of ensuring their music matched their energy.

Opening with songs from their 2011 self-titled first album, it was quintessential Bones Atlas as the songs ‘Here We Are’ and ‘Veritas’ reminded me of why I had wanted to see them live for so long. ‘Here We Are’ began with the snare drum holding a catchy riff and the audience, hooked, was asked: “Where have all the nutters gone?”

It must have been rhetorical because I think half of them were in El Sol rocking along as the two guitarists went berserk with solos that filled the bar and overflowed onto the street, bringing the audience to rapture.

Sammy’s yearning voice intensified throughout the evening, and it was good to see that after a couple of years break, his delivery may have become stronger.

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The crowd was your usual set of Cronulla beach bums and hippies accompanied by the odd smell of weed that strapped in for a massive bluesy rollercoaster. The presence and energy emanating from Sammy was infectious as he strutted, shredded and sang simultaneously, complimenting the frantic urgency of their music.

It may be obvious that I was more excited to see Bones Atlas than Harvey Weinstein gets blocking the only exit in a room full of women. But to provide some perspective on just how good they were it is best to look at it from the eye, or ear rather, of a person who had not previously listened to one lick of Bones Atlas.

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Enter my mate, “Gus,” a self-indulged and finicky 24-year-old.

When four blokes walked on stage looking like they were about to interrupt our conversation with a two-hour reggae set that only the insane could enjoy, Gus’ anguished expression was palpable.

You know those kinds of bands he’s thinking of. They induce boredom so deep you begin to contemplate if a romantic getaway to North Korea might change your girlfriend’s need for “support” at her torturously long soccer game. You also ponder whether golf might be an acceptable way to waste a day and if our Kiwi cousins are on to something with the sheep.

Nevertheless, within a minute Gus’s look of annoyance turned into one of surprise, appreciation and a wry grin of self-awareness when he realised his error.

He asked: “How come this is a free gig?”

His expectation for the musical food scraps of North Korea quickly evaporated as he was treated to an evening of hard-hitting and heavy blues.

Bones Atlas rocked Gus’ world for 90 minutes. He raved about that skinny front man with long hair that shredded the guitar while singing and strutting like a madman.

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Witnessing Bones Atlas live was an aural experience that, due to their peculiar riffs and weird combination of blues, psychedelics and funk, was not readily forgotten, playing over in my mind a day later.

Without wanting to blow any more smoke up the ass of these guys, they rocked Cronulla, pleased a long time fan and created a new fan out of a highly critical and odd human being.

I’m looking forward to seeing them rock more Sydney venues in future with Gus.

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