"Sorry, probably a 'roo jumped into the line or something. You know how we Australians in the bush are."
Ross Knight is calling back after his phone cut out during an interview. What sounds like a cliched bit of dialogue from a "Crocodile Dundee" flick apparently occurs regularly on Knight's plot in rural Victoria. He makes his living as a farmer. He'll also embark on a headlining U.S. tour throughout September with his band, the Cosmic Psychos.
The Psychos have produced eight albums and two LPs since 1985, never swaying far from its signature style of feedback and catchy, repetitive choruses. The closest the band's come to mainstream success is when it accidentally received songwriting credits on The Prodigy's multiplatinum "Fat of The Land" (L7 gave the Psychos credit for the melody to "Fuel My Fire," which the British big beat producers later remixed). To hear Knight tell it, he considers the band ever making it onstage a success unto itself. Through nearly three decades of modest accomplishments, somehow the Cosmic Psychos influenced the likes of Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Mudhoney, L7 and The Melvins. In other words: a healthy portion of the Seattle scene that would define rock during the early '90s.
Members of those bands showed up to praise Melbourne's unassuming rock legends in the new documentary, "Blokes You Can Trust," which will make its American debut in Seattle on September 11. When asked if idolization from rock legends made him reconsider the aesthetic value of the Psychos' work, Knight waves it off.
"Nah, not really. They're just really good mates. We've been lucky to attract good people," he says. "We woulda run into those guys anyway. Drinking at a bar or something."
Thousands of musicians strumming guitars in their garages would do Lord-knows-what to run into Eddie Vedder "drinking at a bar or something." The Psychos must have done more than get lucky.
"I think the Cosmic Psychos were a band that was highly influential on the Seattle, so-called "grunge" scene," said Butch Vig, who produced Nirvana's "Nevermind," during the film. "I know that Kurt (Cobain) and Nirvana were fans. [The Psychos] played shows with Pearl Jam. Even though the Cosmic Psychos never had the commercial impact or success that those bands had, they were still a major influence on them, and I think a lot of it had to do with the spirit and the sound of their music."
The "classic" lineup of the band came together amongst a spurt of new Melbourne rockers emerging during the '80s. The Birthday Party, a noisy goth/punk outfit featuring Nick Cave, stood at the fore, defying radio rock with shrieks and feedback. A likely inspiration for the Cosmic Psychos, no?
"We stumbled onto that sound," Knight says, again insisting that the band's rhyme and reason was amateur at best. "The sound's the way it is because of the old fuzz pedal I bought, to make my bass sound more like a guitar."
Alright, so when Ian McFarlane, critic and author of The Encyclopedia of Australian Rock and Pop, describes the Cosmic Psychos as an "arty kind of punk noise, somewhere between The Birthday Party and a more narcotic sounding Ramones," doesn't that imply progressive talent, accidental as it may be?
"Most musicians that call themselves artists are bulls--- artists," Knight says. "I just write about stuff I experience. For 'Dead Roo' (a song off 1991 album 'Blokes You Can Trust'), a dozen times a year I hit kangaroos. It's life."
So why did Matt Weston, a Melbourne filmmaker, make the documentary? Depends who you ask. Weston alleged that the project was Knight's idea, after the frontman found a collection of old videos and photos in a shed on his farm. Knight claims he and the band were shocked at the idea. Guitarist John McKeering and drummer Dean Muller work full-time jobs outside of music. Who would want to make a documentary about them?
The film however, displays a profound difference between the Cosmic Psychos, working class heroes, and the Cosmic Psychos, punk icons.
Knight, who admits he'll "talk the leg off the chair," handles many of the interviews. His blue collar attitude and humble recollections during his time on camera suggest Tim McGraw more than Henry Rollins. The personas change when the band's onstage; "Blokes You Can Trust" features footage of Knight dancing nude onstage during a Mudhoney performance, producer Butch Vig calling the Psychos the heaviest drinkers in Smart Studios' history, and McKeering taping a lavalier mic to his bare chest during an interview, versus wearing a T-shirt (the guitarist's not thick...he studied law). Weston enlisted Knight to help shoot a video for another area band, and admits he's anxious about the bassist's enthusiasm.
"He gets to burn down a whole bunch of crap he has been meaning to get rid of," the director wrote in an e-mail. "He is a little too excited about the idea of burning things...it's making me a little bit nervous."
The upcoming gigs will be less about defending drinking titles however. Knight's desire to ignite scrap material is just the old rock 'n' roller burning inside, but The Psychos have families and careers to return to at the end of the tour. Knight may have been right in his assessment that the band is ultimately, albums and tours aside, just a hobby.
Just a hobby that allows them to tour the United States, return to Melbourne's Big Day Out festival in January, and share a beer with headliner Pearl Jam.
"It's a bloody good hobby," Knight admits.
The Cosmic Psychos will play at The Cake Shop in Manhattan on September 20 and 21.
