If Elvis Presley had a child with a Texan drag queen, it would be something close to The Sex Cult Cousins’ frontman Tommy Bradson. Backed by Adelaide guitarist Sam Leske, Bradson sings of cocks, cults and werewolves.
Nudity and coarse language were promised in the show’s blurb, and expectations are high for a raucous, genre-bending experience. This three piece band, however, is doing anything but challenging the rock n roll scene. The language warning was warranted, and references to ‘Black Betty’ are swiftly flipped around to a new, filthier understanding.
The band is tight and their timing is impeccable. Leske’s fingers fly across the fretboard with ease, but the songs themselves are basic and formulaic in their structure, making for a predictable set. These classic rock songs are catchy, and the choruses are easily sung along to. Bradson has a clear voice with gravely overtones which work well for their rock n roll style.
An acoustic ballad from Bradson breaks up the short, fast, loud pace of the set with surprising sincerity, before breaking into another ‘banger’. The band keeps its promise of explicit language within their set, and they are clearly talented and energetic, but they lack any message tying the set together and fail to produce genre-challenging content. Their talent, however, makes for an enjoyable yet emulative experience.