Headbanging and handstands as hometown heroes go hard at tour closer
Press Club ★★★★
Corner Hotel, August 8
'You should see the piece of skin hanging off my shin,' says Press Club singer Natalie Foster of the blood trickling down her leg, just four songs in. 'It scared me. I've only seen that once before when I was 18 and fell off a construction site drinking tequila.'
This banter could be a manifesto for her jangly, garage-punk quartet. Misadventures and big emotions, testing limits and returning home to report on them: they're key themes throughout the Brunswick group's catalogue. Since their debut in 2017, the staunchly DIY Press Club have been on a tear – stomping across world stages and releasing four LPs in quick succession.
Tonight they're launching their latest, the sugary punk sheen of To All the Ones I Love. It also makes for an emotional homecoming, laced with a slight hint of exhaustion, to close the band's 10-week, 30-date European and Australian tour.
Following a walk-on to the moody I Am Everything, Press Club throw everything at it. 'We're from Melbourne,' says Foster before a blistering Cancelled. 'Feels f---ing, good to be playing our hometown.'
The celebratory Headwreck ignites the first singalong, and from there it's over to Foster to pull focus – be it via bloody injuries or her incredible voice, which retains its husky, impeccably roaring croon even when she's mid-headbang, pulling a handstand mid-verse of Coward Street, or lost deep in the crowd.
Around her the band sizzles on Greg Rietwyk's relentlessly melodic guitar lines, Iain MacRae's excellent burbling bass and the breakneck drumming of Timmy Hansen, filling in for founding member Frank Lees, who's on parental leave.
Dynamics of a punk show can be tricky – if every song allegedly inspires catharsis, after a while the stakes don't seem as high. Press Club mitigate this with clever stylistic detours. Mid-show highlight Untitled Wildlife features Stu Patterson from support band Placement lend wailing saxophone to an indie-rock build that culminates in real anthemic alchemy. Suburbia, from the band's debut, Late Teens, remains the perfect set closer, Foster yelling, 'I can't relate to letting all your dreams go', while instructing the crowd to launch themselves one last time.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
West Australian
2 hours ago
- West Australian
Adrian Barich: Why verge collection is a brilliant microcosm of life
I love 'bring out your dead' week, better known as verge collection. It's a brilliant microcosm of life. This week Jodie forced me to hoick a heap of really valuable stuff that clearly, very shortly, I will desperately need. She reckons I'm a hoarder but, realistically, it's inevitable that my doctor will tell me to start using that stationary bike again — and guess what? It'll be at someone else's house. And as for the old flat screen . . . I mean who throws out a television? My dear old dad (may he rest in peace) would be horrified. I'm the son of a European immigrant; everything has value in my world. Mattresses are the best. I'll admit that they can become redundant after 20 years or so, but do you think anyone wants them? No chance. So out they go on the verge, which is a very undignified look, I can tell you. I'm not sure how it works with the fossickers who come and check your trash pile. And I'm not having a go at them because when I was a kid, I loved going to the tip with my dad and bringing home more stuff than we dropped off. I remember saying to him 'Can you believe what people throw out, Dad?' Old 45 records, a flat footy: what treasures I found. But back to the modern-day fossickers. I get it — recycling is everyone's middle name nowadays — but how quickly they come. I walked inside this week after hauling out that old TV and before I got back in the house, a bloke was loading the old Samsung on his trailer. What happened next was funny, too. He knocked on my door and asked if I had the aerial. I found the external device which I thought was a thing of the past and handed it over. Not long after he was back, asking 'Barra, you wouldn't have the remote, would you?' 'Of course, my friend,' I said, 'and how bad are the Eagles going, eh?' just making light conversation. Incredibly, though, he wasn't finished. After a lap of the block, he was back: 'You wouldn't have any batteries, would you?' Brilliant. My daughter Madi reminded me later of how she had lost a bike on one of the 'bring out your dead' days many moons ago. She had her Kmart cruiser leaning against the front fence and clearly someone thought it was verge trash. Back in 2006, we were one of the first people in town to have a double pram. It wasn't cheap, but clearly worth every cent. Anyway, around verge collection day, it went missing after I left it out on the porch. However, as we live near a maternity hospital, I thought 'ah well, someone needed it more than us'. Later a neighbour said they thought they saw the family that took it, and they had about six small kids. Bulk waste collection is a great initiative by local councils. If I was a kid nowadays, I'd certainly be operating under the premise that one person's trash is another person's treasure. I can just see in my mind's eye what sort of sensational billycart I could build from the many wheels and chairs that get thrown away today. I'd have had the Rolls-Royce of hill trolleys. The kids these days also have the advantage of being able to google 'how to build a billycart' and I think Bunnings even has a workshop community to help you out. Yes, where I live, one man's unwanted rowing machine is another bloke's home gym. And how many of us have stuff stashed under our bed and in the shed that we swore black and blue we would use every day when we first saw it on television? Jodie had to hide the credit card when we first had kids because I would sit up doing a feed in the middle of the night and order all sorts of stuff that, in my sleep-deprived mind, I couldn't live without. Those infomercials were compelling. Yes, yes I do need a George Foreman Grill, what a great invention. ThighMaster? What a brilliant idea to build my legs up for for footy. Luckily, when I ordered the Encyclopaedia Britannica (just like my dad had), my credit card was overdrawn. Thank you, verge gods for taking all that stuff away and saving me the embarrassment of seeing it lying unused around the house. Verge collection is like Christmas for the fossickers, and it's our version of recycling. There's something truly Australian about watching a bloke in hi-vis load a designer lamp into his Corolla at 6am. And you haven't lived until you've seen someone climb over a mattress and a treadmill to rescue a working Dyson. Verge collection, where your old loved goods go to die — probably on Facebook Marketplace.
West Australian
2 hours ago
- West Australian
STM Loves: Angelwood Pies, Tigerlily returns, Sunset Daze and Il Locale's Pizza Club
West Aussie pizza brand Il Locale have introduced a new pricing system and it's a game-changer. Every day, full-size pizzas at each location are only $22. From Scarborough to Subiaco, Currumbine to Busselton, Kalamunda to Stirling, Il Locale is doing god's work and ensuring pizza is more affordable for all. Founder Mathieu Bourget says: 'No gimmicks. Just good pizza, fairly priced'. Perth-born Petal Ashmole Winstanley has poured her life story into her new memoir Get Up, Dress Up, Show Up — and what an adventure the former ballet dancer has had. From dancing around the world, to life with her three great loves that she would go on to lose in heartbreaking circumstances, the 78-year-old's story is one of resilience and strength. The book, described as 'sometimes shocking, always candid and frequently funny' is available through Amazon and Booktopia. This Melbourne-founded brand set out to create beauty products that capture the feeling of golden hour, and it's on the right track with it's newest addition: the Liquid Rays Blush. Formulated in Australia with kakadu plum, avocado oil and kiwi extract, its neutral pink tone was designed by brother-and-sister duo Alessia and Marco Angele to reflect the natural flush you get when you're 'sun-warmed, spontaneous or suitably charmed'. Priced at $37, the newest member of your make-up bag is available at . If you haven't yet been drawn down to the small but mighty digs of this Leederville pie shop, add it to your list immediately. It has a delicious and evolving menu of pies and sausage rolls with excellent pastry and even better filling options, from a classic steak to Irish lamb, bolognese, tofu and kimchi as well as new flavours added regularly. It's open from Wednesday to Sunday from 8am to 2pm. It's safe to say we've had our fair share of winter showers this season. But is there anything worse than getting caught in the rain with an umbrella that suddenly gives way? Be gone broken brollies, says New Zealand brand BLUNT. Their designs are tested with winds of up to 115km/h, so good news, there's little chance of that happening. Shop online at or in-store at Zhuzh Fremantle. From Oasis to StyleAid, 2025 has been a year of iconic comebacks. Australian brand Tigerlily is the latest to join the comeback club with a welcomed return to the swim and resortwear market. Creative director Simone Coates says they've honoured its legacy with lush prints and vibrant colours, while reinterpreting once-loved designs to fit the modern wardrobe. 'We're incredibly proud to reintroduce a brand that is so deeply woven into the identity of Australian summer,' says Prue Slocombe, general manager of Tigerlily. 'For so many women, Tigerlily isn't just a fashion label, it's a memory, a moment, a mood'. Shop at .
Perth Now
2 hours ago
- Perth Now
Why verge collection is a brilliant microcosm of life
I love 'bring out your dead' week, better known as verge collection. It's a brilliant microcosm of life. This week Jodie forced me to hoick a heap of really valuable stuff that clearly, very shortly, I will desperately need. She reckons I'm a hoarder but, realistically, it's inevitable that my doctor will tell me to start using that stationary bike again — and guess what? It'll be at someone else's house. And as for the old flat screen . . . I mean who throws out a television? My dear old dad (may he rest in peace) would be horrified. I'm the son of a European immigrant; everything has value in my world. Mattresses are the best. I'll admit that they can become redundant after 20 years or so, but do you think anyone wants them? No chance. So out they go on the verge, which is a very undignified look, I can tell you. I'm not sure how it works with the fossickers who come and check your trash pile. And I'm not having a go at them because when I was a kid, I loved going to the tip with my dad and bringing home more stuff than we dropped off. I remember saying to him 'Can you believe what people throw out, Dad?' Old 45 records, a flat footy: what treasures I found. But back to the modern-day fossickers. I get it — recycling is everyone's middle name nowadays — but how quickly they come. I walked inside this week after hauling out that old TV and before I got back in the house, a bloke was loading the old Samsung on his trailer. What happened next was funny, too. He knocked on my door and asked if I had the aerial. I found the external device which I thought was a thing of the past and handed it over. Not long after he was back, asking 'Barra, you wouldn't have the remote, would you?' 'Of course, my friend,' I said, 'and how bad are the Eagles going, eh?' just making light conversation. Incredibly, though, he wasn't finished. After a lap of the block, he was back: 'You wouldn't have any batteries, would you?' Brilliant. My daughter Madi reminded me later of how she had lost a bike on one of the 'bring out your dead' days many moons ago. She had her Kmart cruiser leaning against the front fence and clearly someone thought it was verge trash. Back in 2006, we were one of the first people in town to have a double pram. It wasn't cheap, but clearly worth every cent. Anyway, around verge collection day, it went missing after I left it out on the porch. However, as we live near a maternity hospital, I thought 'ah well, someone needed it more than us'. Later a neighbour said they thought they saw the family that took it, and they had about six small kids. Bulk waste collection is a great initiative by local councils. If I was a kid nowadays, I'd certainly be operating under the premise that one person's trash is another person's treasure. I can just see in my mind's eye what sort of sensational billycart I could build from the many wheels and chairs that get thrown away today. I'd have had the Rolls-Royce of hill trolleys. The kids these days also have the advantage of being able to google 'how to build a billycart' and I think Bunnings even has a workshop community to help you out. Yes, where I live, one man's unwanted rowing machine is another bloke's home gym. And how many of us have stuff stashed under our bed and in the shed that we swore black and blue we would use every day when we first saw it on television? Jodie had to hide the credit card when we first had kids because I would sit up doing a feed in the middle of the night and order all sorts of stuff that, in my sleep-deprived mind, I couldn't live without. Those infomercials were compelling. Yes, yes I do need a George Foreman Grill, what a great invention. ThighMaster? What a brilliant idea to build my legs up for for footy. Luckily, when I ordered the Encyclopaedia Britannica (just like my dad had), my credit card was overdrawn. Thank you, verge gods for taking all that stuff away and saving me the embarrassment of seeing it lying unused around the house. Verge collection is like Christmas for the fossickers, and it's our version of recycling. There's something truly Australian about watching a bloke in hi-vis load a designer lamp into his Corolla at 6am. And you haven't lived until you've seen someone climb over a mattress and a treadmill to rescue a working Dyson. Verge collection, where your old loved goods go to die — probably on Facebook Marketplace.
