TV Smith’s Adverts
+ The Dark Clouds
+ Cammy Cautious and the Wrestlers
Landsowne Hotel, Sydney
Friday 10 April 2026
Words and images: The Barman
There's no time to waste so this will be succinct and to the point: TV Smith and his Adverts (aka the Hard-Ons) were every bit as great on their Australian tour as reviews would have it. There’s only one show left in the tour (tonight at La La La's in Wollongong.) If you have the ability to be there, do it.
TV who? Listen up…
TV Smith and his band The Adverts were part of the first-wave of UK Punk. Along with the Pistols, The Damned, The Clash and Buzzcocks. The Adverts might have been the most literate of the bunch, with their observations on mass media, society and “the system”. As fitted the times, they were urgent and angry.
Once the media flicked the switch to “fashion”, much of what followed was lame. Not so The Adverts. Not that they lasted long. On their first album, at least (the second suffered from appalling production), they burned as bright as anyone. The songs were raw, with underlying melodies and hooks. They still are.
But to the now: TV Smith is touring Australia for the first time in 17 years. The last trip was solo. This visit is with the Hard-Ons as his backing band and with the assistance of Roger Grierson. He’s a former major label executive who cut his teeth as a member of subversive Sydney punks Thought Criminals and as part-owner of quietly influential independent imprint, Green Records.
Grierson and the Hard-Ons hatched the plan to bring TV Smith back. Months of backing band rehearsals culminated in just one in-person studio run-through with the singer, before they all hit the road. If you have any idea of how these things come together, you’ll agree that this is flying by the seat of the pants.
TV Smith – let’s call him Tim Smith, because that’s his name - turned 70 last week. Think about that. It’s a no so gentle reminder that Punk Rock happened a fucking long time ago. Fifty years. You could say that nothing much has changed since then but that would be a massive generalisation.
Punk changed music for a while and but you can argue that the societal impact of music has since changed. It’s no longer embedded in mainstream thought. It’s been cheapened by digitisation and short attention spans. It no longer changes much at all.
The Adverts railed against mass media. TV Smith still does. The reality is that media in the 1970s was consumed en masse. There wasn’t much choice. Today’s digital media is self-selected. You chose the sandpit you play in, and then you’re subjected to a bombardment of messages. And that’s when you must chose.
I’m not contradicting TV Smith here, merely pointing out the power of the individual (as opposed to shaking your fist at a cloud) is where the relevance of his messages lies. Protest for the sake of protest is, frankly, pointless. Especially when the world is full of so many stupid people. On that last issue especailly, we may be in furious agreement. Thank you for your attention to this matter, anyone?
Back to the now (or more correctly last night) and the gig was a hoot. The set list contained just one post-Adverts song - and that suits most of the people in a reasonably full Lansdowne room just fine.
The supports kicked off at a ridiculously early hour (7.30pm) so I missed Cammy Cautious and the Wrestlers. Also foregone was all but the end of The Dark Clouds set. Should have checked the set times. Of course I was downstairs, growling in my beer about the lame cover band on the once precious ground-level stage.
Deanov from The Dark Clouds.
They had a drummer with no swing and tempos that were all over the place, a singer with no stagecraft whose voice was buried in the mix, a monotone guitarist who was MIA and a bass player who was capable but caught in a ‘70s fashion bubble. He seems friendly enough when he stops playing mid-song and waves at a familiar face.
The vocalist mumbled the band’s name and said he hadn’t played this venue for 15 vears. After hearing them butcher that tiresome Marseilles song by The Angels, the reason is obvious. Mustn’t grumble because 11 people were getting right into them, but being an outlet for cover bands and putting on heritage acts at stupidly early hours (because, you know, old people need their sleep) shows how far the once mighty Lansdowne has fallen.
Upstairs is where it’s at. It was never in doubt. Suspend reality and apart from the merch stand, you could have been down The Vortex or The Roxy in punk London in ’76 and ’77.
When not tending bar at the Cornwall pub operated by him and his wife, TV Smith tours the world, both solo and with backing bands. I’ve heard a record with one of them, The Bored Teenagers, and they’re great, but surely the Hard-Ons are up there with the best. They’ve worked hard to pull off this tour and it shows.
There’s the occasional slightly re-jigged guitar phrase but Ray, Blackie and Murray don’t embellish the songs. There’s no need.
I was warned by someone who caught TV Smith in Melbourne that he was inclined to preach (and the informant was a Midnight Oil fan, FFS!) but at tonight’s gig he didn’t seem to spend an onerous amount of time in the pulpit. There’s a bit of patter between songs but much of it is self-deprecating or praising his bandmates, supports and the warm reception received from the crowd. The love in the room clearly flows both ways.
This is a celebratory show and one worth celebrating.
TV Smith is a wonder, a tireless and impassioned frontman who gives the performance every bit of himself.
There are some funny moments. One is where a punter (let’s call her Gayle) jumps on stage at the end of the set to grab Smith’s microphone and complain about a man who’d snatched a souvenired setlist from her hands to give to his partner. Quick-fire, Ray Ahn pronounces the culprit to be a cunt and asks “why can’t we all get along?” before drummer Murray donates his own setlist to the cause.
You can work out what was played from the picture above and you’ll have your own favourites. Needless to say three of the best in “Gary Gilmore’s Eyes”, “Bored Teenagers” and “One Chord Wonder” were saved until near the end.
Oh, that every tour by an overseas tourist was as good as this. Or that John Lydon had half as much energy. TV Smith is worth crossing the Red Sea to catch.
