Sydney’s Most Kissable Rockstars

Top Ten So Hot Right Now List

Through countless anonymous phone surveys, drunken conversations with complete strangers and up-till-3am-doing-mathematical-equations-on-whiteboards-over-take-out-pizza-and-beer-with-a-crack-team-of-dedicated-if-kooky-professionals, The Brag presents our completely subjective guide to who we think is totally hot in Sydney, right now..

Adam Jesson, Purplene: Did someone say post-rock perfection? Come on down Adam Jesson! We’d like to meander his bassline, sculpt his soundscape and deconstruct his rhythm section! The lo-fi indie cinema of the music world, postrock boys live in black and white, perennially European, troubled and chain-smoking. It’s all about distant good looks and faded black t-shirts. It’s all about the Jess.


Andrew Gibson, The Cops: It’s the whole 50s-rocker-Mat-Dillon-in-Drugstore-Cowboy vibe. If The Cops ever dissolve from the pressures of funk-rock related fame and fist-fighting, Gibbo could make a mint leading the revolution against no-wave art-punk by performing as a hip-swivelling Young Elvis for pop-hungry rock ‘n’ roll kids in bobbie socks.


Dave Rennick, Dappled Cities Fly: Referred to in this magazine as everything from the Macaulay Caulkin of indie-rock, to the baby-faced pin-up boy for art-pop, Dave reminds us of the youthful beauty ideal favoured by luminaries such as Oscar Wilde. [In foppish British accent: “Dear boy, to love oneself is the beginning of a life-long romance, but to love you is the beginning of an adventure in my pants.”]


Edo Kahn, Gelbison. He speaks with a slight lisp. Do you have any idea how ridiculously sexy speaking with a slight lisp is? Hot.


Jed, The Mess Hall. Five things that’ll always be sexy:

  1. Seth Cohen.
  2. Seth Green.
  3. Seth Cohen <I>and<I> Seth Green
  4. Seth Cohen and Seth Green making out.
  5. Jed from the Mess Hall.


The Presets: If Julian and Kim Presets starred in a movie, this would be it: A straight and narrow North Shore boy called Dirk Golden-Boy [Julian] excels academically but feels stifled by his conservative family, alpha male friends and trophy girlfriend. His one love is piano; here the music transports him to a beautiful and exciting world where he feels connected yet disembodied, much like doing good acid then going swimming at Gordon’s Bay. One day his Porsche breaks down on the wrong side of the tracks and he meets a wily fellow known only as The Kid [Kim]. The Kid introduces him to the dangerously cool world of disco-punk, synth-driven rock and writing songs with swear words. Dirk begins to lead a complicated double life as he starts a band with The Kid, which achieves underground notorierity and approval from people with cool haircuts who do coke on school nights (most of them don’t even go to school!). In an extremely unlikely turn of events his overbearing father and pill-popping mother happen to see the band and force him to choose between his two lives. He chooses to go home with them to a formal fancy dinner but half way through a metaphorical situation allows him to realise he’s made the wrong choice. Tires squealing, he zooms back across the tracks and makes it just in time to play a very important gig with The Kid, that a well-connected independent record label owner sees, who them signs them up. The love subplot that’s woven in there somewhere is resolved, and everyone lives happily ever.


Red Riders: You know a band has that X Factor when you realise glossy trading cards is the perfect merch idea. One day the ‘Riders will star in their own high school teen comedy series where they play in an inoffensive pop band as they solve non-violent crime by eating at a 50s-styled local diner and making out with girl guest stars who think they’re ‘really neat’. That or they’ll discover cocaine affects the same part of your brain that gets switched on when you fall in love (true), develop major hooker addictions and end up becoming Sydney’s answer to Motley Crue. Either way, we’re tuning in.


Street Nales, Dead Dead Girls. Alright. Enough’s enough. We’re gonna lay down a few little home truths for y’all. Girls like boys who don’t like them. Girls like boys who have detached Eurotrash accents, who will always love music more than they love you and could easily live without you if you pulled an ultimatum. Girls like boys who are uninhibited onstage, freakishly talented and who can control a room just by walking into it. Girls like boys like Jack White and Courtney Taylor-Taylor. Girls like boys like Street Nales.


Spod: Confidence is sexy. If Girlfriend magazine taught us nothing else, it’s that boys like girls who have confidence, clear skin and are cautiously cute. And girls like boys who have confidence, develop their weird-ass language and act like rock gods from another planet. Therefore, Spod is the shizzat. We all must wear bikinis made from leopard-print vinyl and hang off his muscular arms as he summons the gods of thunder and fire to do his command over a scorching cock rock soundtrack before we all party like porn stars!


Quan, Regurgitator: Three words people: ‘Couldn’t Do It’. Three more words. The film clip.

You meet him: In the pet store shopping for fishtanks. He explains how he finds the shape and dimensions of the tank comforting and is thinking of getting some goldfish. You suggest naming then after the characters in Reservoir Dogs – there’s a Tarantino festival happening in the old movie theatre next to the pet shop. You go get soy strawberry smoothies in an outdoor setting.

The first kiss: Five month later you’re still ‘just friends’ but then Lady Liquor steps in and rights that wrong. You’re both really trashed at some random party, but its totally hot, lots of socially inappropriately fooling around that clears a room.

Brag recommends: Art openings as dates, good conversation at 2am, not having hissy fits just for the hell of it.

Georgia Clark


About Georgia

I'm a young adult novelist with a weakness for hot nerds and cheese platters, not necessarily in that order. I am currently working on my third novel. I'm pretty excited about having just turned 30 because it means I can justify spending a lot of time thinking about homewares.
This entry was posted in Creative non-fiction, Dating, Music, Pop culture, Sex and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

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