The Drones - Gala Mill
(2006)

Review by Sean Lynch

When it comes to The Drones, you will have a clear cut opinion on them. And it's as simple as you love them or you hate them. There is no in between.

It's really a matter of choice. They are rough, they are raw and it will be a cold day in hell before you hear them played on the NOVA 19's or anywhere else you might here the phrase "Alright! That was the latest one from Anthony Callea, now here's one from The Rouge Traders" back announced.

I have to admit, when I first chucked this into the car CD player I just wasn't in the mood for dark and gloomy. Admittedly, there are days when there's nothing more therapeutic than chucking on Elliot Smith, Something For Kate or a bit of Tom Waits and just having a grumpy day. But, the downside of such artists is that, it's just not healthy to emerse yourself in it constantly. So I don't think I really gave The Drones much anticipated 3rd studio album a fair go. However, upon a second and third spin, I started to get just what all the fuss is about.

Recorded in a mill on an isolated 10,000 acre farm on Tasmania’s east coast, Gala Mill is an album full of extremes - moments of stark, ghostly beauty are set against outbursts of the dark and an intense amount of noise for which the band is renowned. It at times reminded me of the Tom Wait's album "Real Gone" in that you just feel like you've been thrown into a blender full of rusted metal. But somehow, through the shards of guitar and scraping vocals - out of nowhere, you hear the music.

It's strange. I've always thought that musicians like Waits or Lou Reed got away with murder. That every album they do is regarded as 'genius' simply on reputation alone - yet when you really sit down and listen to it - it sounds like crap. But there is a point you seem to hit where you hear the melodies and the tunes under the crashing and scraping. And it's brilliant.

Much is the case with "Gala Mill". The opening track Jezebeel is a corker that grows on you like a Tasmanian moss - slow but steady. It's a catchy pop rock song hidden under a veil of noise and distractions. While the quieter moments of 'Sentimental' is the nasty man's I Would Do Anything For Love.

"Gala Mill" is unmistakably Australian - not in a sense of flag-waving patriotism, but rather it's unique way of addressing Australian history and mythology (something not really tackled since - who? John Williams? Banjo Patterson?). It exposes the sadness of watching Australians trying to be Americans and Americans trying to be English and the English trying to be Americans. Words From The Executioner To Alexander Pearce tells the story of the notorious convict Pearce who escaped twice from Macquarie Harbour, both times cannibalising his fellow escapees, and was eventually executed for his crimes. Now why don't you see John Farnham lyrics like that!

There are some other contempory themes addressed in I'm Here Now - which chronicles the idea of watching friends slide into heroin addiction, as well as I Don't Ever Want To Change which takes a look at depression and denial (which this album is perfect for).

The most interesting thing about Gala Mill has to be the rawness in which it's presented. The vibe of a group of drunken underground musicians and mates recording in a quiet little hole is so present. With the sounds of birds, crickets and the band members themselves often tacked on before and after several tracks.

"The Gala Mill" is never going to be Shakespeare - it's never going to be Justin Timberlake - it's never going to be You Am I. It's the Drones - and you will love it or hate it.

RATING: 3 out of 5