28 Days

Aaah yes my darlings, we’ve been out and about being media whores. I would drop a few names, but sweetie I’m far too discreet.

Anyway I very much doubt that Kylie and Co. would feel at home in the King’s Head, as it is ideologically opposite to the Met Bar. However, today onstage are Melbourne hopefuls 28 Days.

“Energy, wheeze, joke, wheeze, energy, wheeze, joke, wheeze, etc”

would be the condensed version of this review as singer Jay Dunne expends so much energy rapping, dancing and gesticulating throughout songs that he ends up a panting wreck at the end of them.

Although they are nothing special musically; they sound at times like Limp Biskit with a sense of humour and less whining or Slipknot’s melodic; you do get a performance without pretension. Their wisecracks, many of which are about surfers (they’re crap) and how Jay reaaally needs to go down the gym when they get back to Oz, are at least funny, and they have a pretty good MC, Jedi.

The spordz metal class joker with more maturity than the Bloodhound Gang, less corporate slickness than Blink 182, and a damn site more likeable that Limp Biskit.