The Thousands

Donny Benet has raised ‘taking the piss’ to new heights. He knows that in order to play a good character, one must pay attention to detail. His pseudo-70s wedding singer is executed to perfection with unapologetic cheese. The shiny baldness surrounding his receding hairline; the gold chain tangled in the chest hair curling out of his unbuttoned, taffeta shirt; the little bit of arse crack poking out of his suit pants. He’s styled himself so well that when frequenting one of his gigs, watching him gently pump his pelvis to the beat of a simulated drum and tell tales of his American airport circuit or of his famed, Italian, disco, accordionist father, a pan over the crowd might see an audience member turning to a friend to ask, “is he being f’real?”

Benet pulls it off though – he is a musical mad-scientist! Who else can team Chinatown 4am karaoke backing-tracks with mostly out-of-tune vocals and make it sound good; great, even. Some tracks on the album like ‘Sophisticated Lover’ and ‘Don’t Leave Me Stranded’ leave a wry smile, while others are legitimate ear-catchers. ‘The Touch (Rented Lover)’ is slow and sultry, cutting the kitsch mid-stream, unveiling a Benet-meets-Reed, throaty mumble. In the end the whole things feels uplifting. Dammit, if he can find love why can’t we – even if it is paid for.

I’m not sure how long this Italian-Australian, creepy, disco-uncle will survive, but I’m eager to see. I lift my glass of cask lambrusco to ya, Donny!