The Molly Fet Circuit Live am Brutto Kaiserbeller, Koln, Mai 2026 – The Molly Fet Circuit (self released)
Call it a wild theory, but the deinstitutionalisation of mental health care in Australia that transitioned psychiatric care out of large, isolated asylums and into community-based settings has been a shot-in-the-arm for live music in many places. Adelaide’s Molly Fet Circuit is a prime example.
This is not an official release. It’s a bootleg. So the band is at pains to state. Well, one of the members, Robert Brokenmouth. He’s the vocalist (term used loosely) so you’d expect him to say stuff. He says he’s very annoyed. He writes for us so you better believe him.
The other guy, Sean Duncan, plays…er…machines that make clunking sounds…and he seems to keep his own counsel. Does The Molly Fet Circuit draw inspiration from Penn and Teller? Maybe. More certainly, from Suicide and The Fall. Maybe Neu. They’re the obvious ones. You may have more.
In an atomised musical world where it’s increasingly hard to be noticed, Molly Fet Circuit are wilfully obscure. They don’t stream in the obvious channels, just Bandcamp and Soundcloud A couple of the tracks from this LP are there in harsher sonic glory.
Yes, this is a physical LP release. It’s in bricks-and-mortar stores in Adelaide. A handful will land in Redye Records in Sydney this week, otherwise you can try email here or shirtfronting the band at gigs. Which they don’t play a lot of but will be doing two in NSW (MoshPit Bar in Sydney on Saturday afternoon and Link and Pin in Woy Woy on Sunday.) Don’t say you weren’t warned.
First impressions count and the packaging is novel. The cover is plain white with those photocopied inserts in the style that used to adorn the shelves of book and music shops in Sydney’s George Street in the early ‘80s.
The insert is two sheets of racy clippings from European media bemoaning the band’s tendency to steal farm animals and sling excrement at inappropriate times. Brokenmouth says no goats were harmed in the making of this album, but most of us know that what goes on tour stays on tour.
The music? It’s seven songs with Robert ranting accompanied by Sean deploying 4/4 Motorik beats and synths in undulating patterns. There’s a dull audience noise throughout that’s probably overdubbed (shades of “Five Live Yardbirds”) and a Darlek makes an uncredited guest appearance.
“Liquid” is familiar to these ears from one of the band’s first Sydney shows. It’s a geopolitical comment about the deployment of American and Russian capital. “The Envoy” sounds like a whispering rant set to a sparse beat and a creepy synth line. A rant about what, it’s not clear, but my money is on the appalling quality of Adelaide’s drinking water.
Flip it over for more of the same. “Voice/1$” starts with a thumping beat and lyrics about infidels and dirty whores. The audience reaction seems to be peaking here, but it’s not in the league of Suicide’s “23 Minutes in Brussels” where a 1978 Belgian crowd took that band apart when they opened for Elvis Costello and The Attractions.
If there’s one message in “Ruprichts” it’s that Brokenmouth may be lying passed out on the footpath like Barnaby Joyce on a typical Canberra night out but “the dog is happy”. That’s a profound relief, because for one hot minute I had this one pegged as the soundtrack to the death of the Australian car industry through the eyes of an unemployed process line worker from Elizabeth.
The Motortik returns in a big way for “Me Mie” by which time the audible audience seems to have thinned. Arrt imaitates life. If the jaunty closer “Apex Grister” doesn’t hit the brown note and clear your back passage faster than a dodgy Bali curry, you haven’t been paying attention.
- yes, they are worms.
