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Keeana Kee “Tik Tok”: The Ultimate Summer Anthem Groover City
There’s No Time for Presents with The Burbs Unleashed
The Suburbs Just Got Loud
There’s a moment in life when you realize the cul-de-sac has teeth. That moment might come in the form of a thunderous rock track from Bells Beach trio The Burbs. Their latest single, There’s No Time for Presents, is a twisted little gem wrapped in big riffs, existential grit, and just enough wine-fueled chaos to keep it interesting. It barrels into your living room with muddy boots and a story you weren’t ready to hear.
I first came across The Burbs when someone whispered: “You might like them, they’re not trying to be anything.” That’s a rare kind of compliment in an industry bursting with genre tags and TikTok-friendly fluff. So I sat down, hit play, and felt my speakers flinch.
Crafting Chaos Without Losing the Groove
It’s not easy making music that feels loose but lands with precision. No Time for Presents rides that sweet spot. Unpolished in the right ways, urgent in its tone. Before heading into the studio, the trio brought in Ted from The Vasco Era to help shape the final sound. “We actually wanted to make the track heavier,” they admitted, “but Ted settled us down and guided us to a better balance with less chaos.” It’s that tightrope walk between rage and restraint that gives the track its gut-punch edge.
The Knife, the Press, and the Unsaid
“There’s No Time for Presents” speaks from the edge. Not the poetic kind, but the real one. Where your hands shake and no one’s around to care. The song opens inside something old and inherited. “From somewhere deep in a hereditary trap” pulls you straight into the kind of damage passed down like bad furniture – too heavy, too familiar.
Then it cuts deeper. Apathy, absence, and a climax carved in pressure and steel. “All it took was a pocketknife and a press.” The line whispers in your ear and leaves you sitting with it. And through it all, that line keeps coming back: “What happens at the times when you’re not sure?” No answers. Just this question, sharp as ever.
The Violence Next Door
The song stays in the silence that follows. Not the breaking, but the space that swells once everything has already shifted. “Nobody heard the violence from next door / Or maybe they had just heard it before.” These lines lay out something familiar. A pattern you recognize even if you’ve never spoken about it. The kind people live with, one you already know.
Midway through, the scene shifts: balloons, bedside vigils, the sterile setting of the end. “I was there by your side every day in your room.” This line just states the fact, and that’s what makes it brutal. The story ends without resolution. “What happens at the times when you’re not sure?” The Burbs just let the weight stay where it falls.
From Bells Beach to Bloody Everywhere
The Burbs came together the way real things often do. Quietly, at bars and parties, without fanfare or formulas. Danny Valitutti, Peri Brown, and Brook McKeon started something in 2016, and that something turned into a rock trio with grit under its fingernails. And a soft spot for good chaos.
They carved their place in the Geelong scene, then found themselves stomping through Melbourne’s live circuit with the kind of energy you can’t rehearse. Studio sessions followed. Some sounded clean, some didn’t sit right. But the songs kept coming – loud, wired, and full of nerves. So they stepped away from the noise and kept working behind closed doors until the sound finally hit the level they were chasing.
The Burbs – Louder by Design
In 2024, Sunlight Spills Across The Swimming Pool landed. A 12-track demo that cracked open their world. It carried sun-soaked melodies, raw rock pressure, and lyrics that hit like journal entries scribbled at 3 a.m. The record marked a turning point. Not a victory lap, more like the moment they stopped asking for a seat at the table and dragged their own chair in.
Then came the radio singles. Ladder to the Moon in July. Skin and Bones in November. Both found their way into steady rotation. The kind of songs that need just a volume knob and a late night. Now people are paying attention. Rock ‘N’ Load Mag called them “hot property.” And sure, there’s buzz. But The Burbs still move like a band that values the song over the story, the feeling over the filter. Instead of waiting for hype, The Burbs build momentum the loud way – one broken drumstick at a time.
The Night Everything Went Off the Rails
You ask a band like The Burbs for one weird gig story, and they hit you with a full-blown urban legend. We’re not even going to try to retell it here – it’s in the mini-interview down bellow, in all its derailed, tooth-scattering glory. Let’s just say it involves cops, a haunted staircase, and a French guy who left part of his face behind. Dive in:
🎤 Mini Interview: The Burbs Spill the Goods
GC: Let’s start with the name – why “The Burbs”? What’s the story there? Suburban angst or just a solid movie reference?
The Burbs: Suburban angst.
The Burbs: Suburban angst.
GC: Your music balances pop hooks with gritty, emotional undercurrents. When you sit down to write, what usually comes first – the melody, the mood, or the madness?
The Burbs: The melody. We’re always sitting on a heap of tracks written with just placeholder lyrics, knowing the time will come for the theme and final words to fall into place.
The Burbs: The melody. We’re always sitting on a heap of tracks written with just placeholder lyrics, knowing the time will come for the theme and final words to fall into place.
GC: “There’s No Time for Presents” is a heavy track, both lyrically and musically. How did that song come together in the studio – smooth ride or beautiful chaos?
The Burbs: Surprisingly smooth. We had Ted from The Vasco Era help us fine-tune it before heading into the studio, so everything was pretty much set. We actually wanted to make the track heavier, but Ted settled us down and guided us toward a better balance with less chaos.
The Burbs: Surprisingly smooth. We had Ted from The Vasco Era help us fine-tune it before heading into the studio, so everything was pretty much set. We actually wanted to make the track heavier, but Ted settled us down and guided us toward a better balance with less chaos.
GC: What’s the creative process like for you as a trio? Are you all jamming in a room together, or does someone show up with a voice memo and a problem?
The Burbs: We waste so much time at rehearsals fart-arsing around – if we had to jam our songs to life as well, it’d be a disaster. I guess we’re the opposite of a jam band. We only tackle songs that are already fully written, which gives us plenty of time for more fart-arsing.
The Burbs: We waste so much time at rehearsals fart-arsing around – if we had to jam our songs to life as well, it’d be a disaster. I guess we’re the opposite of a jam band. We only tackle songs that are already fully written, which gives us plenty of time for more fart-arsing.
The Burbs – What Happens Between the Gigs
GC: When you’re not making music or melting faces live, how do you unwind? Any weird hobbies, rituals, or guilty pleasures we should know about?
The Burbs: Yeah, we’d list the pokies, Sonic Energy, cats, RipStiks, ancient Egypt, handmade mugs with faces on them, alien hunting, and fishing – but not exclusively.
The Burbs: Yeah, we’d list the pokies, Sonic Energy, cats, RipStiks, ancient Egypt, handmade mugs with faces on them, alien hunting, and fishing – but not exclusively.
GC: What’s the weirdest gig story you’ve got? Don’t hold back – we love the chaos.
The Burbs: There’s plenty of these stories – we’ll need more interviews. But here’s one: we had a headliner at a punk bar in Collingwood. Prepped with our usual Dan Murphys wine tasting ritual, followed by drinks. Then the venue wouldn’t let Danny in – he ended up at the cop shop for some reason. He made it back just before stage time, broke seven sticks during the set (always a good sign).
The Burbs: There’s plenty of these stories – we’ll need more interviews. But here’s one: we had a headliner at a punk bar in Collingwood. Prepped with our usual Dan Murphys wine tasting ritual, followed by drinks. Then the venue wouldn’t let Danny in – he ended up at the cop shop for some reason. He made it back just before stage time, broke seven sticks during the set (always a good sign).
Broke In. Pitch black. Creepy Stairs.
Post-gig, we tried heading to a mate’s for kick-ons, but they bailed last minute. “There’s an abandoned hardware store next door,” they said. So we broke in. Pitch black. Creepy stairs. Total horror film. Deep in the building, we heard someone else in the room and bailed fast. Outside, as we were saying our goodbyes, a French guy came flying downhill on a bike, shouted something rude, stacked it hard, and left half his teeth on the pavement. He tried to ride off – we said, “Bro, you can’t go, all your teeth are here.” He asked us to pick them up. We refused. His face looked wrecked. He kept trying to pedal off, so we confiscated his bike, called an ambo, and pinned him down till they arrived.
Final Thoughts (and a Bit of Honesty)
There’s a raw joy in discovering a band like The Burbs. They’re messy, deliberate, unfiltered – and if we’re being honest, they make suburbia feel like the most dangerous place to be. That’s not an easy trick. So, if your playlist needs a track with teeth and a band with a sense of humour darker than your morning coffee, There’s No Time for Presents is a good place to start. Just don’t expect anything polished. Expect something real.
You’ll find The Burbs on Facebook, Instagram, Spotify, Bandcamp, and YouTube. I did. And I haven’t shut up since.
READ MORE: Groover City And The Rock Phenomena
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