When the red curtains are drawn back and as Wheatus file onto the stage, the room fills with a sense of nostalgic anticipation.
Fans who missed the band’s only other Australian gig have been waiting 12 years for this moment. The song that sums up adolescent angst, ironically adored by those who mainly fit the pre-teen category, will have been played for them live by the end of the hour.
Where will it fall in the set list? Will it live up to expectations? Will that baby blue hat make an appearance?
The moment comes sooner than expected… sort of. Wheatus jump straight in with the familiar crash of the cymbals and the “Ooo yeah” that characterize the end of “Teenage Dirtbag” and no one really knows what to do.
The song snippet finishes and lead singer Brendan B Brown quips, “That’s it, we’re out of here”. There are a few chuckles, but most of the crowd is still reeling from the band nearly ruining a moment they’d awaited for over a decade.
Then Brown declares that the band “don’t really do set lists” and encourage the audience to yell out what they want to hear. The second of silence that follows is unsettling.
Surely, the combined cries of an entire audience yelling “Teenage Dirtbag” will be deafening; and won’t it be awkward for the band, who will ponder how they can fill an hour-long set by dragging out the “She doesn’t know what she’s missing” part or performing crazy instrumental solos?
However, there’s no need to cringe. Momentary shellshock has subsided and the response is huge… and varied. At least a quarter of Wheatus’ 43 songs get a mention and Brendan B, the band’s only original member, seems a bit overwhelmed.
“Um, why don’t we start with the first song off our first album: Truffles,” he quips.
This is met with appreciative cheers and from here, the band strike a perfect balance of letting fans dictate the set without inciting chaos. Crowd singalongs to favourites such as “Sunshine” and “Leroy” are highlights and it’s evident that Brown is relieved his laid-back approach is rewarding rather than lazy.
A clever transition from their own “Love Is A Mutt From Hell” into a well-received cover of AC/DC’s “Rock and Roll Damnation” that gives Brown a chance to seriously shred in a moment that you feel caters to his inner rock god.
The fact that the band take the piss out of themselves and appear totally relaxed on stage is so appealing. The intro to “Creeping Death” is played at the request of a crowd member for some Metallica, but the repeated badgering of a clearly confused punter to play “Khe Sahn” doesn’t pay off.
Brown saves the classic hit which everyone’s been waiting to hear for last, and the second that acoustic riff starts is spine-tingling stuff.
It plays out exactly how you’d want it to and so excited is the crowd that half of them vault themselves onto the stage and enthusiastically wrap their arms around each band member.
The stage is so packed that the band can’t make eye contact with each other and consequently miss the their cues for the final collective note of the song. No one cares, because the crazy level of security at gigs these days means moments like this one are usually shut down with a spear tackle or two from a super-ripped bouncer.
All you need to know is this: the band may not be music legends, but “Teenage Dirtbag” remains a musical classic.
– Alice Eastman
