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The Chats: a roguish distillation of Aussie rock’s most oikish corners

To be honest, potty-mouthed Aussies The Chats probably don’t care what we think of of second album Get Fucked



Sunshine Coast punk larrikins The Chats continue their ignoble quest to become Australia’s most Australian band with second album Get Fucked. And by and large it appears that they’ve succeeded. 

With 13 tracks crammed into a dizzying 28 minutes, the band accelerate wildly through 6LT GTR, album standout The Price Of Smokes and I’ve Been Drunk In Every Pub In Brisbane as if their lives depend on completing the set before last orders. 

The material falls a little short of debut single Smoko and 2020’s mischievous AC/DC CD but it’s a roguish enough distillation of Aussie rock’s most oikish corners, mixing Bon Scott’s impish humour, the Detroit-byway-of-Sydney sound of Radio Birdman and the Celibate Rifles, and the snot-nosed belligerence of The Hard-Ons. 

It’s hardly life-altering stuff, but it’s a lot more fun than Neighbours.