The Tote has been one of those venues that have always just been there. Anyone who actively goes out to see live music in Melbourne has had to drag their sticky feet along the dirty carpet of Collingwood’s famous pub at some stage, or at least passed through on a night’s drunken adventure. After Sydney lost some of its own great live music venues due to ridiculous liquor licensing laws, the problem has now spread to Melbourne with the Tote being the first victim to fall under the over-zealous rules put about by the clearly out-of-touch government. I was lucky enough to find a ticket to the very last soiree the Tote would ever play host to, with a line-up of Melbourne’s most treasured (and crazy) punk and rock acts to have ever graced the Tote’s stage throughout its history.

Unfortunately a surprise that many missed out on was a set from Eddy Current Suppression Ring, opening the festivities, but starting my day was Guttersnipes, bringing to the Tote Bandroom for one last time their swampy and aggressive rock and roll songs. It was this massive and thunderous raucous that set the tone for the whole afternoon and night to come.

I went upstairs to the tropically-themed Cobra Bar to catch some of Kamikaze Trio’s set. The small room was packed pretty tight, so I couldn’t see much of the explosion that was happening on the stage, but I could hear their abrasive and brutal punk songs. Like many others on the bill, Kamikaze Trio reformed just for this occasion. Back down in the bandroom, I was greeted by Dynamo; a light-hearted rock and roll band with the added touch of some horn to really get everybody into a party mood, enthusiasm running on high! As Dynamo’s upbeat songs blared out, happy punters covered the stage with streamers, the band almost impossible to see through the veil of paper hanging from the lighting rig in the middle of the room.

Back up in the Cobra bar was the “sonically assaulting” punk three piece Bombshells, tearing through a set of three-chord punk songs, short, loud and very angry like any punk band losing their favourite venue would be. By now I needed to rest my ears and so went down to the Bandroom again to see Dave Graney and the Lurid Yellow Mist. Through the multicoloured paper curtain, still hanging from earlier that afternoon, Graney and band performed his brand of sly, jagged and bluesy pop songs with his long time partner-in-crime Clare Moore on the drums, Stu Thomas on bass duties and Stu Perera as Graney’s co-axeman. A highlight of Graney’s set was song ‘Sell Out’ dedicated to those who helped in the demise of the hotel.

In the tightly packed Cobra bar played the Dacios, whose songs travelled from snide, distorted rock numbers to lamenting ballad-like tunes with the smokey female vocals of Linda J. The Nation Blue continued to tear up the Bandroom stage, their set was boisterous and energetic. The rolling drums booming to keep the hectic guitar in line, with the strident shouting of Tom Lyngcoln harsh but attention-grabbing.

Playing up the stairs again was the smiling Dan Kelly, with his very own Dream Band. After the unruly punk tunes of the Nation Blue, it was a nice, easygoing change of pace, Mr Kelly and co. captivating his Cobra bar crowd with his happy rock ’n’ roll love songs, with gospel-like keyboard. He reminisced, like all the cats today did, of the times he had played the Tote in the past, one particular show coming to his mind being on where they’d been supported by a little-known act called Midnight Juggernauts, claiming he “always knew they were gonna be big!”

Back down the stairs (there was a lot of to-ing and fro-ing!) was Legends of Motorsport, a rock band full of bravado, beer and giant riffs, another example of the kind of energetic rock and roll bands Melbourne has produced and the Tote has nurtured. The tiny Cobra bar stage was then brutalised by one of the acts I was most excited to see, Deaf Wish. Deaf Wish are messy, all over the place and really fucking loud, giving the room no mercy in their fast-paced performance. They look as though they all have come from many different walks of life to just play noise. Fucking incredible noise.

Ahh Beaches. Can you do no wrong? Probably, because every time I see you all play, you always deliver and this Monday night obviously was no exception. Opening with ‘The Rip’ I was immediately re-wowed by this band, whose surfy tunes radiated the room. It wasn’t just masculine, head-bashing punk bands that played the Tote’s stages, but Beaches too had awe-struck many show-goers in that bandroom many times before with their atmospheric rock songs.

Punk duo Digger and the Pussycats (both of whom played in Kamikaze Trio earlier on in the day) were more of a comedy act than a band, joking  and crudely recollecting memories about all the Tote good times a little more than the time spent actually playing their just as crude (‘I’m a Slut’ being one number) punk songs. It was a cringe-worthy but hilarious experience.

While others went back down stairs for Bruce Milne’s speech (something I do regret not witnessing myself) is stayed in the small bar for the Stabs, a band I was so happy to FINALLY get the opportunity to see live, though it was kind of like bumping into an old friend you haven’t seen for years at a funeral; it was great to see them, though the circumstances was a little off. Watching this band wreak their severely understated havoc in such an intimate setting brought their songs to life, even dirtier, more wirery than on record. At the drawn out, feedback-filled end of their set, frontman Brendan broke a hole in the roof of the bar with the headstock of his guitar, leaving it hanging there with broken strings like some deranged lighting fixture.

After a breather out in the courtyard, still smelling of burnt meat and cigarettes from the afternoon’s barbeque, I came back to the bandroom to be completely annihilated by the Meanies who had the crowd thrashing around the room in such a manic state, the venue could have been shifted on its foundations. It was as if every male in the room’s switch flicked to ‘overdrive’ as the Meanies played their roaring punk songs. All involved, band and audience, went hell-for-leather from beginning to end of their hectic and wild 30 minute set.

Due to some unforeseen circumstances, the Cosmic Psychos had to be replaced by Spiderbait sans bassist Janet, but guitarist Damien and a clearly disappointed ‘Kram’ took to the stage and tore through a set including songs the Tote had not seen performed in 15 years. Closing their performance was everyone’s favourite cover ‘Black Betty’, the one last ‘hurrah!’ the band would ever have in this venue, with the Meanies’ bassist Wally Kemton taking up bass duties for the closing number.

Up next was the very last band to ever play the Tote bandroom stage, The Drones. Opening with ‘Jezebel’, you could feel eberybody’s heart sink with emotion at the beautiful and electrifying live rendition. The Drones always perform with a passion that leaves me standing there in awe, I can’t move around, all I can do is stand and stare and listen, always completely gob-smacked, and to see such a band in such a setting was unfathomable, but there I was witnessing them playing the Tote. The band were down to their last sing, it had to be a memorable one, so calling Joel Silbersher up to the stage, together they performed GOD’s ‘My Pal’, sending all into a writhing mass, bodies floating around and clambering from anything that was hanging overhead. It was a truly surreal experience to round out a day people had prayed would never come.

That was it, there was no more. There was nothing that people’s continuous chanting of “Tote! Tote! Tote!”  could do. So long, Tote. Hopefully not forever.

A SECOND TAKE - BY ROB PECHAR

A frantic hour spent online left me lucky enough to hold a ticket into the final ever gig at the Tote. In the three days following licensee Bruce Milne’s announcement that the Tote would be closing its doors for good due to Liquor Licensing issues, venue booker Amanda Palmer managed to piece together a lineup that celebrated the entire history of the venue.

Bands were scheduled across both the band room and the Cobra bar, with only slight overlaps giving punters that chance to steal a glimpse of almost everyone who played.

Arriving half way through Guttersnipes set (first according to the internet), I was met by everyone grinning ear to ear and raving about the unannounced opening set from Eddy Current Suppression Ring, arguably Melbourne’s most successful punk band of the last few years. This disappointed was quickly dissolved though by the sight and sounds of Guttersnipe giving the crowd an earful of classic Australian pub rock

Dynamo were the next band on the main stage, and began their set by showering the crowd and lighting rigs with streamers as they launched into their high energy, soul infected party tunes. Singer Alex was a sight in his green suit and hypercolour shirt as he gyrated his way around the cramped stage. A highlight came as Dynamo pulled off possibly the most impressive mid song pause I’ve seen (ala The Hives), with no cues at all before diving head first straight back into song.

Heading upstairs for the first glimpse at Cobra saw Bombshells giving us a serve of classic Ramones punk. They sang about Kingswoods and getting pissed, as well as dedicating one song to Liquor Licensing director Sue Maclellan. ‘I’ve got something to say to you, get on out of here’. Amen

Dave Graney sang into a slowly filling band room (still featuring Dynamo’s streamers), as punters soaked up his sleazy grooves and blues. The man has style, and was backed by his band Lurid Yellow Mist including a guitarist who could have almost set fire to his Rickenbacker with the speeds he was playing. He also finished with a Maclellan tribute in the form of his recent song Sell Out

I went upstairs to see the Dacios, but I couldn’t see them, and my ears were fucked already. The one downside of Cobra has always been the sightlines, but I guess this just rewards the biggest fans who have waited the longest. Still, I probably should have stayed upstairs, because the set from the Nation Blue that followed in the band room was one of the loudest beasts of punk rock noise witnessed all day. The band reformed for the Tote’s sendoff, and it seemed as though there was nothing changed, a manic stage presence from all involved generating huge applause. Guitars were flung around and the ceiling used as a makeshift guitar pick, as the drummer nearly destroyed the kit with his ferocious style.

A dinner break got me back in time to see the engines being fired up by the Legends of Motorsport, who raced through a set of high energy rock and roll, accentuated by keyboard lashings and some catchy as hell guitar riffs. The energy these guys give off by so obviously enjoying themselves was infectious and so the 30 minute set was suddenly over before it began

A smart choice to get some earplugs instantly paid off as Deaf Wish floored the packed Cobra bar with their intense noise, a sound so confronting and dense that it could be have been used to physically destroy the building if needed. A standout set on a day where everyone was giving it all.

Digger and the Pussycats quickly changed the mood upstairs as their high energy 2 piece punk took hold. A good helping of Tote memories between songs provided the laughs as we learnt perhaps a bit too much about the guys and their sexual history.

Soon after, Bruce took to the main stage of the Tote to deliver his speech, on the final night of the Tote’s existence. The crowd cheered and maybe even shed some tears as he told of the troubles he faced, and his appreciation for the support that he had received from staff, bands, venues, and all the fans in Melbourne. There was mention of the licensing issues, but he kept himself composed and measured, something that perhaps some of the ‘powers that be’ could take note of.

Precious Jules is the new outfit for Kim Salmon, a 2 piece offering that somehow managed to bring some of the best songs of the night. By this stage the crowd had done their best to drink the Tote dry, and when Kim dived into a rendition of the Richard Hell / Dee Dee Ramone classic Chinese Rocks, the full force of the Tote sang along with him. Unfortunately, Kim just couldn’t quite remember the chorus, and after three attempts to get through (as the song continued to get pushed along by the crowd), he folded and launched into a classic Scientists track.

There was barely room to move now and so the task getting between the Cobra Bar and band room was abandoned, instead trying to secure a good vantage point for the final three bands. The Meanies took to the stage and proceeded to give us all a schooling in classic Melbourne punk rock. This was loud, sweaty rock music played to breaking point, and it marked the first time the mosh pit really picked up, with singer Link indulging in a bit of stage diving.

Early in day, many of the crowd gathered were shocked to see the Cosmic Psycho’s crossed off the bill. The explanation we got was that a bench pressing accident had sidelined Ross Knight. Again Amanda had the unenviable task of getting a late replacement, and only a few hours before their set, the Cosmics were off, Spiderbait on. Only Kram and Damien took the stage however, explaining that although she desperately wanted to be there, Janet was quite ill. You couldn’t have told there was a missing band member though as Spiderbait played through their hits as a two piece before Wally Meanie joined them to close with their hugely successful cover of Black Betty.

The final act of the night, tasked with closing the final chapter in the history of this iconic venue, was the Drones. Considering the bands standing as one of Australia’s most respected recent exports, and a band who cut their teeth with many gigs at the Tote, it was a fitting send off. Similar to Deaf Wish earlier, the Drones assaulted the crowd with a thundering display of noise and passion, putting everything into each strum, word and hit. Shark Fin Blues was aired and as their set came to a close, Joel Silbersher was invited to the stage to deliver what is now an iconic performance of his band GOD’s seminal track My Pal. As the set finished Joel was held aloft by the crowd, as the final chants of ‘Tote! Tote! Tote!’ echoed loudly into the night.

The lineup and night will remain legendary to all of Melbourne, and I feel extremely lucky to have witnessed it firsthand. A fitting tribute to a venue that gave everything to our vibrant music scene, and asked for nothing in return.

A THIRD TAKE - BY GARETH PAGE

I was fortunate enough to make it down (and in) to the Tote on Sunday, the second last day that it was to be open. We arrived at roughly 4PM and were presented with a 50 people strong line, as the venue was already completely full. As we ticked towards hour 2 in said line, at no point had anybody in our party made even mere mention of cutting our losses and going somewhere else…and neither had anyone else in the line behind us, (which now went as far as the next street, about 200 metres or so). By this stage new people arriving (and there were many), were not even bothering to join the queue, preferring instead to congregate out the front. Once we made our way inside, it was a surreal scene, all of the posters of the legendary acts that had graced the stage that used to adorn the walls had been taken down, probably by the management in order to preserve the memories before the souvenir hunters showed up.

I’ve been to the Tote on many many occasions over the past few years, I have seen some great shows there, and enjoyed many a drink in the front bar. We have played ‘jukebox bully’ on the jukebox in there for hours on end, which doesn’t worry anybody in the venue because the jukebox contains nothing but great music. Particular highlights courtesy of the jukebox last evening…ACDC – Rock n Roll Ain’t Noise Pollution, and You Am I – Berlin Chair. I wasn’t lucky enough to make it down on Monday for last drinks, to what I’m sure was an amazing show (the audio of The Drones closing the show with Joel from GOD is particularly chilling listening) so I don’t have a band/show to review, but I’m led to believe that the tote was given a fitting farewell by all the bands and artists involved.

All Photos by Rob Pechar