Mick Thomas - Paddock Buddy (Album)

On the second-to-last back page of the booklet of ‘Paddock Buddy’, a disorientated and out of focus photo of Bob Dylan (circa Blonde On Blonde era) is noticeably front and centre. Mick Thomas, like many of us, is undoubtedly a fan of Bob’s and ‘Paddock Buddy’ could be seen as an attempt to mould the narrative style of Blonde on Blonde into a more Australian setting. Stylistically there are some similarities; Thomas takes Dylan’s pennant for knitting out the intricacies of a songs storyline, he carries many of the same folk-rock influences and both have the desire to sing about blue collar living.

Unfortunately, this is where the similarities end. Thomas lacks the authority of Dylan - his lyrical content often crosses over from working man truisms into colloquial bogon scraps. Take for example: “Then his mate leaned across, gave his hand a pat. He whispered in his shell-like pink, man, who the fuck was that?”, this kind of pub rock, Aussie mateship, song writing mentality should have died out with the dinosaurs. It belongs on the desks of script writers for VB ads, not in music.

Vocally, Thomas also misses this clout and originality that is required, as his melodies meander, lacking the bite and build of his song writing contemporaries (see Dylan, Paul Kelly and Tex Perkins). The most repugnant example of this is the opening of ‘Forgot She Was Beautiful’ which is out-of-tune. I am not a stickler for pitch perfect replication but being noticeably flat, to the point of my body quivering and convulsing like an epileptic at a rave, is not what I look for when purchasing records.

This said, there are some redeeming features of ‘Paddock Buddy’. The first and most notable being Thomas’ duet with Angie Hart (of Frente fame) on ‘Lust In Translation’. Hart’s voice still has the gloss and shine of the Frente days and it is hard not to notice the influence her wisp has had on more recent female vocalists (Sarah Blasko). Thomas responds to the challenge of the duet by providing his most powerful vocal effort and also the strongest composition on the album. Like Paul Kelly’s work with the Boon Companions, Thomas quirks his traditional style with a nod to the contemporary sleek of a The Decemberists sea shanty.

Opener ‘Tommy Didn’t Want You’ (despites the uncanny resemblance of the phrasing from ‘Scotty Doesn’t Know’ from Eurotrip and the fact the introduction has been lifted from the Talking Heads classic ‘And She Was’) is made passable by the intelligent use of vocal harmonies and dynamics.

‘Making A List’ is all sentimentality, like a Wings ballad it is essentially cheesy but still worthy of a smile. The spoon-and-fork attitude to percussion is an unexpected twist and, like ‘Lust In Translation’, this tune seems to resonate better with Thomas’ voice, lacking the plainness that pervades some of the weaker tracks.

Being a ‘Sure Thing’ is not always the best idea. While no one can doubt the rock pedigree of Mick Thomas, the great narrators always find a way to evolve and to ensure that their voice remains contemporary. Thomas falls far short of this mark on ‘Paddock Buddy’. The album constant references to reliability, certainty and experience can be looked at in a glass-half-empty attitude that brings stale, standard, average and ordinary to mind. While it is admirable to see an artist sticking to his horses it rarely makes for good listening.

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