Album Review: Wet Blankets – Rise of Wet Blankets

When I was 15/16 years old, you wanna know what I was doing? Jerking off, and begging strangers that seemed the perfect mix of sympathetic and old to buy me and my shitty mates booze. I thought Wavves were edgy, and that taking a girl to Maccas and shouting her lunch was a “pretty good first date”. I knew I was smarter than everyone, and that when I was a millionaire from all that punk music (read: THE NEW NOFX ALBUM) I would take a big ol’ shit on the lawn of everyone who said that I was weird because I listened to “Enter Sandman”. Doncha know that’s fucking metal?

It wouldn’t be until about a year later that I went through the enlightening discovery that there was more to Australian rock music than Powderfinger, but this story ain’t about me. As intriguing as it would be to recount just how many Prodigy CD’s I bought, this reflection of who I was at 16 is less of an attempt to trace everything to the exact point of when I realised how much of a fucking loser I am, and more of a gobsmacked appreciation of Wet Blankets.

Wet Blankets is the project of Zane Gardner, a bloke straight outta Geelong. I refuse to call him a kid, because he’s got his head screwed on better than the majority of fuckwits that run this country. Furthermore, he’s evidently got a damn fine music taste, judging by the way he propels through his debut album. There are touchstones throughout the ‘Rise of Wet Blankets’ that sure as shit put my high school musical obsessions to shame. Whereas most teenagers are happy to numbingly plod along to Disclosure and Selena Gomez, Zane has obviously been thrashing The Reatards, Dead Boys and Cosmic Psychos. Fuck, I would’ve killed to have had the foresight to give those artists a chance and to have sought them out earlier than I did.

‘Rise of Wet Blankets’ doesn’t even stretch for 20 minutes, but the amount of sweat, puke and fuzz that’s loaded in here could kill an unsuspecting high school student faster than synthetic weed and a free period with nothing to do. The guitar solos on here are as deranged as an ‘Nam flashback, the yelling and screaming puts spoiled rich kids to shame, and the dark humour wouldn’t feel out of place in a Bret Easton Ellis novel.

What makes this record so impressive is how organic it feels. Zane mmade one actually?doesn’t shy away from his age, or try to mask it with some sort of bullshit maturity. No, the repulsion for the kind of shit that annoys people under the age is rampant in the record, like hating on school in “Kits”, dealing with dipshits on “Marge is A Wet Blanket” and struggling to sleep on “Fridge Too Far”. You know why you can’t sleep? You’re too fucking loud!

From the first second, to the last, this record is relentless, a no holds barred cage match of ear-bleeding guitar. It’s the perfect record to encapsulate the teenage experience, with all its acne and inability to talk to girls. And what’s more, its music that won’t make you ashamed to have listened to in your pimply years – Wet Blankets is a band that can, and will, be adored at all ages.


‘Strayan Video(s) Pt. 2: Drunk Mums + Wet Blankets + Horror My Friend + Thee Hugs + Doctopus

Part two in the epic saga of Australian videos that are better than intergalactic space orgies with mulleted, green-skinned she-beasts. That’s right, prepare your internal organs for a ravaging of amazing that you have yet to experience.

Drunk Mums-Plastic

Fun story about Drunk Mums-They were the first pub show I went and saw as a bonafide eighteen year old. I had a bunch of tequila before and ended up getting through about four songs before my innards excused themselves from my stomach. It’s cool, I saw them a couple weeks back, and they were rad. Anyway, they’ve just released a new track/video entitled ‘Plastic’. Personally, I reckon it’s about plastic, fake people and how they’re all a bunch of wankers, but really, who cares about my opinion. Y’all just wanna hear a song that blows your gonads off. Well, you’re in luck, as ‘Plastic’ is one of the most unhinged and slack-jawed tracks that Drunk Mums have released. AND THE VIDEO! Fuck, how many iPhones did Drunk Mums have to order off the Internet to get that much bubble wrap? They must have a really supportive record company.

Wet Blankets-Deighter Caught My Bus

Short form review-Wet Blankets are a punk band prepared to rock your cock off. They play loud, fast and their only motivation is to bring down interplanetary species from the farthest reaches of the galaxy to check out what kind of abnormal screech fest could be creating such a ruckus. Really, it’s a beautiful thing. This is their clip for a new track called ‘Deighter Caught My Bus’. Good fucking luck deciphering the words. Just enjoy the maelstrom, fake Chopper mo’s and flannels.

Horror My Friend-Nothing

If ever there were a clip that I could relate to on a personal level, it’d be the new one from Horror My Friend. A plump ginger dude sits in a chair in the middle of a raging party, drinking beer, smoking and making no eye contact in case he would be forced into a conversation. As the Future of the Left-meets-Die! Die! Die! sounds plummet into awesome territory, the clip becomes more and more sad. Somebody talk to the lonely soul! He looks like he’s about to shoot everyone. Alas, Horror My Friend are painful realists, and our protagonist continues down his morbid path of loneliness, despite being in the prescence of one of Radelaide’s top five bands, and  a roaring house party. Shit, that’s sad.

Thee Hugs-Bashar Al-Assad

Now, because watching that video from Horror My Friend has caused my body to be drained of all fluids via the incredible amount of crying that occured, its time to get into some freaky-deaky shit courtesy of Brissy’s Thee Hugs. This is their first single since their 2013 debut ‘Drug Use and Alcohol Abuse’, and by the sound of the new single, it looks like Thee Hugs have stayed true to their mantra. The song is like an unofficial spiritual take on The Clash’s ‘Rock the Casbah’, only instead of reggae punk with a nice looking Joe Strummer, you’ve got ragged, dishevelled and dwonright scummy punks from Brisbane taking the reigns and showing Yung Strum just how it’s done.


Prepare your anal cavities for one of the cutest video clips paired with a nail-biting garage rocker that’ll guaranteed make you want to tear out your tongue and strangle all the squares out there. Seriously, the recklessness of Doctopus on record is akin to going line for line with Ozzy Osborne circa 1975. Take that image, wrestle it down with a chorus of ‘I wanna live under water’ and then chuck a bunch of adorable as fuck seals in there, and you’ve got yourself the video for the new single from Doctopus. Radness perfected.