Tumbleweed’s summer tour may have been blighted by Biblical plagues and a distinct dearth of Triple J’s paternal attentions, but there was more venom and fun and pure raunch in every riff-packed number than in any of the fifty hot new things the yoof network flings at us every month.
They rolled and swung and stung like some kind of punch-drunk lurching phenomenon. Ali in Zimbabwe, Keating in question time, the Stones in exile.
Continue reading “Tumbleweed Live Review for Reverb Magazine Feb 2011”
Mick Daley 