The Irks are a busy band. I catch up with them preparing for a gig, so only have enough time to fire off a few quick questions about their upcoming show at indie night Thai Fisherman Pants before they leave. I ask how they got together.
”We’ve all been long time mates. The brothers in the band, Ben and Josh, used to smash out AC/DC covers in their garage.”
“Paul came over a few times, bought an electric guitar and we started doing our own shit. Then we hooked up with long time friend Phil who was smashing snares since he was in nappies. He put his own unique funk style to this raw sound.”
Speaking of raw sounds, I ask how they might describe their music.
“Raw, loud funk and punk.”
That’s short and sweet, but it works. The band mentions with excitement their gig with the Thai Fisherman, and it turns out “Ben has known Richard (Lucano, promoter for the night) for years. They were school mates.”
When not rocking out with The Irks, the guys tell me they “design air craft space shuttles to get the fuck outta here.”
I’m pretty sure that’s a joke, but I get the feeling they’re trying to politely ask me to leave. Before I go, I ask what their plans are for the near future.
“We might take a couple months off to work on some more material and possibly record an EP.”
With that the band leaves, lugging crates, drums and guitar cases with them. They wave goodbye and I’m left feeling like I’ve just had an unsatisfying quickie.