Alongside the first season of Friends debuting and Jeff Buckley releasing ‘Grace’, the year 1994 paid host to the release of Reality Bites - a zesty and relatable Bildungsroman film featuring baby-faced Winona Ryder and Ethan Hawke. The highlight in my opinion is a memorable dance scene in a Food Mart to The Knack’s ‘My Sharona’, yet the film also features a quote that I’m choosing to live by, however unwisely and immaturely, for the remainder of my skittish and sultry twenties. 

Winona Ryder’s character Lelaina is grappling with the existential crisis all-too-familiar to those of us on the precipice of our mid-twenties and laments to Ethan Hawke’s character Troy that ‘she was really meant to be something by 23.’ Troy responds with ‘Honey, the only thing you have to be by the age of 23 is yourself.’ 

Despite this quote explicitly referencing the 23rd year of your twenties, I believe we can stretch this out to the entire decade. I’m not really sure what we’re supposed to be at 24, but the headlining emotions seem to be confusion mixed with elation, randiness and disorientation. We seem confused about who we’re meant to like and love and where to channel passion, where to channel frustration, what behaviour to let slide and what behaviour to walk away from.

I recently sat down with someone only a year older than me who I presumed to be forever confident in his choices, and I admitted that I didn’t really know what I was doing. He flashed a knee-weakening smile and assured me ‘I’ve never known what I’m supposed to be doing, Laney.’

I saw Caitlin Harnett and her immaculate pony boys at The Curtin on the eve of my un-hotly anticipated 24th birthday. As I clasped my pint and watched the glamourous band descend upon the stage, I mulled over this musing from ‘Reality Bites.’ I didn’t have a quick-smart answer for this as I saw Caitlin heave her guitar strap over her shoulder and flash a toothy grin to the crowd, and I still don’t have an answer at the time of writing, but at least we’ve always got some gritty and rocky country music to sway along to as we stutter our way through the day. 

The Curtin band room is adorned with chandeliers and disco balls, alongside being elusive and difficult to locate, concealed behind the ticketing table. However, all we had to do was follow the herd of cowboys and codgers and class acts which comprised the clientele for this Friday night show. The Curtin was thankfully saved last November after it teetered on the brink of closure, and it took all my willpower to not scream Viva La Curtin as I waltzed through the front door. We can rest assured and continue to gorge ourselves on the guac fries and poutine and eye candy that are the spunky bar staff.

I unfortunately missed Queenie and Tamara and the Dreams due to pre-birthday shenanigans – furiously dancing in our living room to ‘I Need You Tonight’ by Punkin Machine – yet we arrived as ‘Dead or Alive’ by Bon Jovi serenaded the band onto the stage. Caitlin confirmed that she hated Bon Jovi but loved the track, and I resonate with this stance and feel the same way about Van Halen’s ‘Jump’.

They opened with a hot, fresh and alert energy, made even more magical by the gorgeous orange light flooding around the band. Their music is undeniably exuberant and powerful and makes you feel like you can kick open the batwing door of a saloon bar without your beer falling over the edges of the cup.

Caitlin’s vocal likeness to Hope Sandoval is uncanny, yet her lilt also boasts similarities to the 1990s country goddess Lucinda Williams, who is responsible for the soul-crushing track ‘Fruits of My Labor.’ Caitlin presents as an electrified-short-queen-brunette dynamite, a bona-fide disco cowgirl, who was adored by the ever-loving crowd even after she expressed feeling immensely nervous. 

Caitlin confirmed the second track was a newbie, dealing with “learning to live with the fact that I’m me,” and delivered a similar sound to CMAT’s song ‘I Wanna Be a Cowboy’. The country AND western theme is strong in this gig review. The fresh track had a gritty country sound, peppered by pulsating guitars and slow yet powerful drumming – the BEST music for gentle swaying. 

The lyrics also reflected the nagging desire to live both an eventful and simple existence, just wanting to “live a good life and sing my songs until its done…there’s always time for sleeping and putting off your health.”

The band were raw and candid and spontaneous, consistently sporting face-splitting grins and exuding a warm aura – drummer Josh displayed similarities to Mr Frank Zappa, whereas the leather-clad guitarist was a lanky, curly-haired Labrador of a man, and bassist Nick presented Marshall Eriksen from How I Met Your Mother charm, with his towering height and dagginess. They’re the kind of band that you would be jazzed to join for a dusty hangover brunch; all laughter and chatting and riffing obscure and slightly esoteric trivia facts. 

I was thrilled to be in the presence of a fellow June grub, the crazy funster of a guitarist, whose birthday celebrations warranted a flaming Jamison and whipped cream shot. One housemate vowed to replicate this birthday offering for yours truly the next day. 

Caitlin dedicated the next track to an unknown Max, and anyone else who’s ever lost a loved one. Caitlin shone in this track, it was almost as if a halo appeared above her angelic frame and her passion was palpable in the air. 

She demonstrated a penchant for prefacing tracks with snippy quips – the next song was dedicated to her younger sister who was being bullied by her ex-fiance’s mother, which sounds like a plot line plucked from The Days of Our Lives. Caitlin’s performance in this track confirmed that she possesses one of those voices that you want to narrate the bittersweet and climactic moments in a film made about your life. She sings with passion and strength, you can tell her experiences have rendered her hardened and resilient, yet heartache and mourning remains.

The band’s transitions between tracks were fun and seamless, and revealed their goofy demeanour as a rag-tag and loving awesome foursome. They all leaned into an endearing stream of consciousness storytelling, floating around salacious rumours regarding bassist Nick’s sexual proclivities and alleged pregnancy, or admitting that they’ve all recently started arriving at the airport gate late so they can experience a power trip of having their name called out over the PA system. The bottle of Jamison was passed from band member to band member like the Holy Grail, as Caitlin insinuated we were the better city in the battle of the capitals – the Melbourne show sold out before the Sydney show. That says it all really, you Emerald Citysiders. Gotham’s strength prevails. 

Caitlin also stopped to reflect on how someone once referred to her in a review as an “aggressive young woman”, and I will confirm right here and now that there is no danger of that happening in this review, at least not in an insulting light. I think some people perceive this identifier as offensive, but it only further galvanises women into action and ignites the fire in our bellies. Think of how the indestructible Kat Stratford from ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ proudly smiled when her guidance counsellor informed her that she was commonly referred to as a ‘heinous bitch,’ or even Greta Thunberg reclaiming the sage advice to ‘chill’ and ‘work on her anger management problem’ from he-who-shall-not-be-named. 

The band’s performance of ‘Outside of Life’ from the 2020 album ‘Late Night Essentials’ was a definite gig highlight – the energy throbbed and heaved in the band room, it was a drawn-out wall of sound sailing and soaring. The lyrics seem to detail witnessing a man succeed undeservedly, as the protagonist watches from the wallflower sidelines – “I’m on the outside of life, I can see you standing there in the light…You just keep living as if you were born like that”.

I interpret ‘Make You Feel Blue’ as the ultimate seeking-vengeance-on-a-lover-track – yearning to make someone who has wronged you experience the same draining ‘blueness’, and a swirling tide of nauseating butterflies in your stomach that just won’t fuck off, no matter how many pints you sink or delirious laughter sessions you tally up with friends. This performance generated a major sway and sing-along. Caitlin actually stopped and asked ‘do I even have to sing? That’s a first’. The crowd willingly stepped in, and her ensuing smile was akin to one that could be plastered on the face of a Vegemite kid. 

‘Even Cowgirls Cry’ was another crowd favourite, which always reminds me of Tom Robbins’ 1976 novel ‘Even Cowgirls Get the Blues’ – two phrases I am aiming to tattoo on my body.  There was an axe off between guitarist and bassist, akin to a duel with instruments, as Caitlin expressed the damning frustrations of someone waltzing in with their charm and class and rendering you speechless and hopelessly devoted – “All I ever wanted was to be alone, Why’d you have to come and ruin it all?” 

The lyrics boast similarities to those in Dolly Parton’s 1977 track ‘Here You Come Again,’ – ‘Here you come again, just when I've begun to get myself together…All you gotta do is smile that smile, and there go all my defences.’ 

Caitlin’s favourite track on the band’s new album – set to be released imminently – chronicles the process of ‘getting your shit together’, and boasts a slow and tender start similar to ‘Indian Summer’ by The Doors. Caitlin’s beguiling eyes, framed by an enviable Stevie Nicks-esque fringe, wandered and searched the crowd, and drew you in. The quartet coalesced in the centre of the stage, emanating passion and reflecting a tight grasp on skilled musicianship.

‘5am’ was another hot hit, and details Caitlin’s experiences of travelling to the United States and thinking she had fallen pregnant. This track also revealed that the loyal band of pony boy followers appropriated the renowned chant developed in response to The Angels track ‘Am I Ever Going See Your Face Again’. The crowd communicated to Caitlin and the boys the sweet limerick ‘no way, get fucked, fuck off.’

They effectively inflated our egos by informing us we were the coolest Melbourne crowd they had ever feasted their eyes on, right before launching into ‘Don’t Give Up On Me’ as their penultimate track. The audience reception was big and bold, with bassist Nick tightrope walking on the edge of the stage and Caitlin moseying her way into the crowd. 

We appropriately belted out a series of festive ‘one more song’ chants, so the space cowboys and  lone cowgirl launched into the encore track ‘All My Friends are Dancers’, and invited a crowd of one thousand dancers to clamber onto the stage. At this exact moment, I detected a scent of frankincense, which I’m choosing to believe was an omen from the ghosts of cowgirls. 

Photography: Genevieve Cox