Reviewed onSaturday May 7
“Is there anyone here that has never heard of us?” Halfway through his set, Joe Taylor casually asks those gathered downstairs at the University of Technology about their knowledge of the band he fronts, Chicago natives Knuckle Puck. It’s not such an outlandish question – indeed, were Taylor to pose the very same query to people in the immediate outside world across Broadway and Railway Square, he may well have a lot more responding in the affirmative. The lion’s share of those in attendance here, however, are all too aware of the high-energy pop-punk stylings of Taylor’s quintet, making a debut appearance in Sydney.
For the select few in the room who aren’t immediately aware of Taylor and co., they make light work of impressing them as well – the drums are brisk and sturdy, the guitars shimmer and screech, and the hoarsely melodic hooks fly in on a fairly frequent basis. It’s not life-changing, sure, but in this moment it holds considerable weight in a room containing hundreds of people who know every single word off by the hearts they so proudly wear on their sleeves – and, dammit, that’s just gotta count for something.
Across five albums and over a decade in the game, The Wonder Years have refined their self-described ‘realist pop-punk’ into something that connects deeply with a younger audience, as well as those in a similar late-20s age demographic to that of the band members themselves. Essentially, The Wonder Years make music that is, by design, used to remind the artists themselves – and those who hear them – that they are not alone and that their innermost struggles are not to be reduced or devalued.
Across an expansive 16-song setlist, the band firmly holds the audience in the palm of its proverbial hands, resulting in a mutual love-in that just happens to have an excess of bodies up in the air at any given time. The emotional weight of the band’s music – and indeed, the audience’s passionate vocal response in turn – comes through loud and clear on stand-outs such as ‘There, There’, ‘Don’t Let Me Cave In’ and the slow-burning main set closer ‘Cigarettes & Saints’. Even in the lighter shades of ‘Melrose Diner’ or the Simpsons-referencing ‘Local Man Ruins Everything,’ the six-piece can’t help but drop resonant truth bombs. With The Wonder Years, you’re never too old for this shit. Ever.
