death from above

You know what, I tried not to like DZ [+Deathrays] for a while, but it didn't work. The picture in my mind is clear: I went to my friend's apartment and they played DZ for me as some kind of aftermath stoned courtesy. I felt musically naked and a little awkward. People are not supposed to know these things about each other. It meant that I had been explicit about my DZ addiction in the past - that I had gushed about them one night, rolling drunk in the sofa.

But what is it about DZ Deathrays that even got my attention to begin with? I remember being at TAFE years ago, clicking my way through profiles of Brisbane musos, trying to get a bigger picture of what this place was all about and how I was supposed to make sense of it all. I didn't even go here. I remember DZ's overly bright myspace profile background jutting out from the screen - and most of all I remember what those tracks sounded like for the first time.

"Like a total rip off The Bronx & Death From Above?"

Not really. I am that classic unschooled music person that everyone is always so suspicious about. To me they represented every denial and buried feeling that had been crawling under my skin since the days before the days. They seemed to have complete creative freedom to do what every young suburban kid (me included) wanted to do but wasn't supposed to: to get drunk, to act reckless, to be ruined, to feel possessed.

I suppose my priorities have changed since. DZ Deathrays have also evolved in their own way - branching out into the US, touring Australia a shitload, craning their necks to bigger things. But the spirit of the DZ entourage - their business mission, so to speak, has kept its middle finger up. I watched them last Friday at Woodland for the release of their second EP Brutal Tapes, and was instantly filled with the need to fuck shit up. I guess that's one kind of freedom.