Crash Through are a dirty, bluesy, funky, rocky, noisy, silly, stoogey, sweaty, lively, electric, rare antipodean prehistoric bird of a band. They are particularly useless at writing band biographies, and take comfort in the extra time and space parlayed into the nether regions by meandering sentences filled with big words.
They are probably the best live band you’ll ever see, especially if you plan to only ever see one live band in Sydney city and then move to Warwick Farm*. Despite only be...
Crash Through are a dirty, bluesy, funky, rocky, noisy, silly, stoogey, sweaty, lively, electric, rare antipodean prehistoric bird of a band. They are particularly useless at writing band biographies, and take comfort in the extra time and space parlayed into the nether regions by meandering sentences filled with big words.
They are probably the best live band you’ll ever see, especially if you plan to only ever see one live band in Sydney city and then move to Warwick Farm*. Despite only being ranked as the second most exciting band to emerge from people who used to drink at the Flemington Markets pub, they've played The Gaelic, The Hopetoun, The Bridge, Goulburn Workers Club, The Annandale and many more, and by all accounts rocked like the wild electric taco-imbibing hyenas they are. They've used the hard earned profits from these to finance an experiment in audio anti-experimentalism, the outrageously titled "Introducing Crash Through", which will be available in March 2009.
They enjoy chillin', rollin', stylin', recyclin', readin', and collectively praying that one of the growing plethora of people they don't know that are turning up at their gigs liked what they saw, got mad crazy pumped up about it, and plan to rescue them from having to do stuff that isn't music.
*Except for Australia Day, where Warwick Farm Racecourse has been known to have a particularly rousing “olde time bush band”.
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