"Jee-sus! Now that's just too bleedin' scary!" proclaims Danny Plant in a thick Australian accent as the rest of the band try to appear cool, calm and collected.
Automatic's third night in America, their second U.S. gig, and their first show opening for Silverchair finds the group's visibly nervous drummer gazing wide-eyed out the window of the group's six-hour-old tour bus as he bangs out a staccato beat on the table top and sips another (" 'murrican beer's too weak!") brew.
Trying their best to keep busy 45 minutes before a show at a New Jersey-shore nightclub, bassist Richard Taylor replaces an A-string that broke during sound check, singer/guitarist Matt Fenton downs another slug of Mylanta and guitarist Alex Jarvis pops Jonathon Richman into the CD player.
Out on the sidewalk, the cause of Plant's concern and a sight his three bandmates are going out of their way not to notice pierces the chilly ocean air with yet another wave of earsplitting screams launched for no apparent reason.
Two hundred? Three hundred? Four hundred? It's physically impossible to count the crowd of carefully-coifed, constantly-moving young girls as they nervously pose, preen and promenade around the headliner's two tour buses.
"Not a one of 'em older'n what? Fifteen, sixteen tops?" asks Fenton as he screws the cap back on the medicine he hopes settles his jumpy stomach and glances out at the vibrating swarm of future mothers of America as they thrust out their young breasts and smoke cigarettes stolen from mom's purse in a vain attempt to look older than their freshman and sophomore year book photos.
"Do 'ya think it's gonna be this, weird every night?" worries Taylor, already slightly alarmed at the prospect of two more weeks playing for a hormonally-charged teenage audience clearly not there for the opening act.
"Ya' know, this tour is gonna be a real interesting test for us," Jarvis says optimistically. "If we can just grab their [pointing to Silverchair fans] attention during the first couple of songs - we should be able to keep 'em going for the entire set."
"We're really hoping this [tour] helps the record gain a bit of a toe-hold in the states," Fenton says of the group's just-released Sony/550/Murmur/Epic debut, Transmitter.
"I think that if we can manage to get a bit of airplay for ourselves over here, Transmitter will actually do fairly well. It's just a question," he adds nodding to a gaggle of young girls descending on one of the headliner's roadies as he attempts to enter the first bus, "of us getting up there and winning that crowd over."
A loud, filthy, sprawling blast of joyful, Iggy Pop-inspired sludge-punk with healthy pop roots and an aggressive, in-your-face bass/drums wallop, Transmitter is a heady collision of "A"-list influences that comes across like the third or fourth release from a more mature outfit instead of the first full-length effort from four young Aussies who've played together a little less than three years.
Somewhat short in the "history of" department, the members of Automatic were friends who went to high school together in the small coastal town of Ocean Grove before they decided to join forces as a punk-influenced Raw Power-based pop band in 1994.
"I actually dabbled in computer science for a bit," recalls Fenton with a shiver, "I didn't like it at all."
"It didn't take me too long," he adds, "to realize that music was a much more satisfying option for me."
Releasing a five-song EP financed by Jarvis' mother later that same year, Automatic quickly became a staple on Australian alternative radio. The group parlayed their on-air exposure into gigs up and down the east coast that eventually led to a contract with Sony-distributed (also the home of Silverchair and Ammonia) Murmur Records.
Another year on the road and another popular EP gave Sony the confidence it needed to green light sessions for Transmitter with INXS/Midnight Oil-producer Nick Launay.
"We tried our best to get a raw, loose, very live sound on the record," offers Fenton when Transmitter's ultra-greasy guitar caterwaul is mentioned. "A lot of the guitars, bass and, occasionally, the drums and vocals were miked through one of those little Marshall practice amps cranked all the way up."
"It's a great noise, innit?" asks Jarvis. "Our earlier recordings always sounded a little too clean. This is much better, you know?"
"We wanted Transmitter to have a gritty sound," adds Fenton. "We wanted it to simulate the feel of a great pub performance. You know, something that grabs you and doesn't let go."
"Until you've downed a pint or two with it," cracks Plant as he grabs another beer from the refrigerator.
