Not adverse to a pun or two, the banter and playfulness that defines Perth rockers Sons Of Rico has always translated well on record. That same tongue-in-cheek delivery found a welcome home within the woodchip confines of Melbourne’s Workers Club at their recent Saturday night show.
Having hop-scotched around the country launching their latest album In Rico Glaciers, the five boys from the sun-bleached west stepped on stage with self-assured and stylish ease. Lead singer and guitarist Alex McRae leapt on with snazzy Oxford brogues to boot, while others, like keyboardist Brett Murray, kept it characteristically casual with muddied white tennis shoes.
The brotherly chemistry between the Sons infectiously spread to the crowd, where the juicy vibes were just as gratefully received as the glam-rock licks emanating from Alex McRae’s telecaster.
With only the briefest of band intros, old favorites like the sunny-retro “Miss Adventure” were played early in the night, drawing in Rico fans familiar with the simple fairy-floss hooks of debut album Reactions.
Nimble on foot and wiry in frame, McRae formally introduced the band’s latest release with amiable ease, relaying an amusing anecdote about the title In Rico Glaciers and the peculiar affirmation it received: a laugh and snort from a nameless girl. “The best sound” to be heard, according to the lead singer.
A penchant for the quirky expressed itself in every manner throughout the all too brief set. McRae gesticulated with skinny vein-roped arms when not squeezing the tightest licks from his guitar, as well as striking down those in the front row with the goofiest of grins.
The deference shown by the singer to the rest of the Sons reinforced the casual spirit of the night, allowing the more jammy elements of the performance to be seen as organic interaction rather than staged camaraderie.
Showcasing singles from In Rico Glaciers, the progression of the band’s pop-punch sound was most evident in its live renditions. Harmonies from second guitarist Chris Callan, almost absent in the beginning, came forth in full dynamic force and provided a complimentary tone to McRae’s idiosyncratic and androgynous vocals.
Murray, by turn, was given room to show off quaint keyboard tricks, while drummer Adam Weston became even more emboldened behind the snare and hi-hat.
“I’m Not Thinking About You” lifted the last 10 minutes of the set, as the disco-pop groove was bounced back and forth between the band and crowd. As a result, head- bobbing and shoe-tapping reached a new level.
Similarly, the final hurrah in the form of latest single “You Don’t Know What You’re Missing” saw soda pop-driven riffs fizz over into the biggest of bangs. McRae leapt onto the bass drum, his back to the audience, pushing Weston to seal the deal with drum rolls as he let the last of the rigorously strummed chords ride out on a wave of breezy distortion.
Despite vague introductions and a subtle mid-show deviation in the slightly under-an-hour set, the intimate party atmosphere cultivated by Sons Of Rico on the other side of the Workers Club’s red door was well worth any minor hiccups – soda pop induced or not.
