Exit Pursuit rock. But I’ll get to that later. You see, on this particular night out on the town I was in search of something far greater and more cosmic than simple rocking good times. I was in pursuit of Happyyess. Not looking for building. No. I was in pursuit of that feeling you attain only so rarely in Darwin when you are entirely content to be exactly where you are and wouldn’t wish to change places with any other southerner or foreigner for all the soy lattes in Melbourne. That elusive emotion that is found so often at Happyyess it is for me synonymous, but by no means guaranteed with entry. It requires a lot of elements and never quite the same mix. A big, beardy face behind the bar is a good start. Chris the brand new barman serves me up a smile and I’m on my way. I turn my self to the stage and I’m greeted by another brand new Happyyess fixture Don’t Do It Johnny. A talented group of larrikins whose lyrics speak of mudcrabs and V8s and whose repertoire is littered with laughs and damn good tunes. I can feel it all coming together.
Room 105 , formerly Jambulance, formerly The Nobodies, step up to the stage with a confused introduction, but there is nothing confusing about their musical abilities. These guys have me dancing when I’m sober and that is a rare talent indeed, shared only by pretty girls and highschool gym classes. I share a look with Kris on lights and sound as he demands an encore so he can watch us dance some more and I know I’m almost there. Now I need something to raise me up to the next level. Something a little bit different. My wish is granted by the debut of a talented trio by the name of Exit Pursuit.
Before even having heard a note of their insane instrumental rock/grunge/metal/blues fantasyland noisefest I could tell I was going to enjoy the work of these jam-carnies, just from their outfits. Liam Parry-Mills on guitar dressed like a 60s self help swami guru whose colours had run in the wash, Olive Hasan-Fourcard on bass looking like he was auditioning for a Nirvana cover band, and fill-in drummer Jack Reedy appearing as though he was an audience member who had wandered incoherently on stage as part of a dare from his drunken roommates. But my eyes don’t get a chance to dig into this visual feast before they are blasted back into your skull to help my ears with the extra sensory input that comes abruptly from a band that doesn’t need any introductions, even from themselves.
Liam opens up with a delicious smooth blues-tongued lick and then it’s playtime on the merry-go-round of paranormal jingles. Just like the players themselves the songs have no given names and each one viciously slides in and out of each other with what could be excessively good improvisation or well disguised manically rehearsed organisation. I lean towards the former, not because these guys seem disorganised, but just insanely talented. Exit Pursuit have me on my way to Happyyess when …
Disaster. Alas, after being camped next to the speaker for barely 5 minutes of these fuzzy metallic beats I am dragged outside by the people who were formally my ‘friends’, now my adversaries, in the pursuit of Happyyess. But fear not. I’m saved, because Exit Pursuit has a range not just in musical taste and ability, but also in the most tangible of ways. Even from outside they still manage to drown out every moment of my assailants boring conversation with sweet incandescent tunes. Here lies the crux of why Exit Pursuit defiantly rock, no matter where you stand. They are never boring. Whether you love a barrage of mixed sounds and chronic improvisation or not you would never dare call Exit Pursuit boring. Alright, maybe you can’t dance to them as easily as Don’t Do It Johnny or Room 105 (aka. Jambulance, aka. The Nobodies). But heck, I can’t dance to anything that well, so don’t pretend to care like you some Fred Astaire.
I’m there. Happyyess. Good bands. Good people. The brand new sound of Exit Pursuit still thrumming in my mind. And yet, it doesn’t feel quite right. It seems there is something missing. I sit outside on the pavement staring at the ruins of the old town hall pondering what it was I forgot to add to the evening to make it to Happyyess. And then Caiti brings out the bins and asks me if the shoelace she found was mine. Though I am clearly wearing thongs I claim it as my own. And I’m there.
*This has been in no way edited by Liam Parry-Mills, Exit Pursuit guitarist and GRIND facilitator