The Chats, Manchester Academy. 19th May 2023

With so many post punk bands about, it’s sometimes refreshing to go back to the source. That’s what The Chats do. No nonsense, straight up strap in PUNK… and they do it brilliantly. Australia has a history of great rock bands of course and seems in particularly rude health with bands like Amyl and The Sniffers, but you get the sense that The Chats aren’t really arsed about any of that, they just want to play. They’re probably sick of comparisons too, despite my ears only finding them on their latest album, they’ve been around a while and I can attest have an eager fan base, you don’t sell out Manchester Academy easily after all. Having been warmed up by the desert generator buzz of the superbly named Guantanamo Baywatch and the ferocious The Chisel, the crowd are rabid. I’ll forgo naming songs on this one, I don’t know how many they play but it feels like about 50 and as we get going with the smell of stale sweat already in the air, I’m wondering if I’ll be describing much of what’s happening on stage. I can see fuck all truth be told, aside the words GET FUCKED emblazoned across the back of the stage in giant letters. None of this matters. This isn’t a visual gig as much as visceral. As the pints fly and the strobes are set to fit inducing. They’re fast, so fast the lighting guy can’t keep up. The drums setting the pace are nuts and fucking meaty too. I’ve seen punk bands live who sometimes are a bit thin in this department, but not The Chats, they sound monumental. ‘6LT GTR’ is a predictable favourite and has everyone roaring back, as clothes are shed and throw across the room. When I do clock the stage as I bounce further and further forward there’s not much to see honestly. Three lads with a lot of space banging out some infectious punk monsters. It’s simple but bloody effective. Get Fucked is the latest album, but we get  a mix of all three so far. It’s clear though that the newer stuff is the best known by the crowd who are just as up for it whatever they play. It’s all brilliant though and if you don’t love one song, there’ll be another in 2 minutes. The brief solo on ‘Stinker’ is the closest to anything indulgent. There’s no waste, they’re lean and lethal. Whilst the room is packed, it’s obvious that they’d make more sense in a smaller space and I’m a bit annoyed with myself I didn’t get on this lot sooner. They’re bloody tight and tons of fun, like the songs. There’s wit and humour laced through this stuff like ‘The Price of Smokes’ which again gets everyone singing along. Particularly the “Those bastards in Parliament ought to be hung by their necks” line. It’s about as sedate as they get, but to make sure we’ve not got complacent. They follow with ‘Struck by Lightening’ and it goes fucking mental. I hate Kiss, but their cover of ‘Rock and Roll All Night’ is bloody good and I believe them! Maybe if Kiss were a punk band they wouldn’t be so shit (No, they’d still be shit). By the time they’re done, I’ve collected a lot of bruises, a crushed foot and moved a good 50ft from where I started. It’s a blistering 60 minutes that leaves some visibly destroyed. Smiling but battered. What more could you want. Brilliant.