Bonetwister Revives A Forgotten Lockdown Project for the Stage

“Sorry for the novel,” writes Ben James in his email inviting me to his new project, Bonetwister’s self-titled album release show at the end of August. “I thought the slightly odd story behind the record might be up your alley.”

He was correct. In fact, it’s hard to imagine anyone who wouldn’t be intrigued by the story of Bonetwister’s album.

In the midst of the 2020 Covid-19 lockdown, James, an accomplished musician who has played in a wide variety of Sydney bands, was producing solo music merely as a means to not be driven insane by boredom. When he heard that his brother, sister-in-law, and nephew were hosting weekly Friday-night family dance parties in their kitchen, he jumped at a purpose to make a song. The first – simply a sketch for them to dance to – was an instant hit. Eagerly the three requested another for the following Friday.

Over the next three months, this became a regular routine. Every week James would write a new song and send it to his family to dance to.

Naturally the music became bouncy and filled with thrilling, catchy moments – lo-fi, distorted psych-rock worked into funky R&B rhythms.

In it, there was no thought of streams, tours, or attention. Only connection, and enjoyment.

When the pandemic ended, as the world moved on, James’ songs were left behind. The musician persisted with other ventures and, like many, forgot about his lockdown side-project. Then, in May this year, having discovered the songs on his hard drive, he realised he had the material for a new album.

Tonight, as I watch James’ resulting live four-piece band, Bonetwister, take the stage at Marrickville Bowling Club – launching this collection of songs to a crowd of loving friends – it’s clear that in translating the music to a live project its intention has not been lost. In fact, if anything, it’s been heightened.

Barefoot – when not strumming ragged, distorted chords, or pumping soul-like synth/piano – James dances around the stage. His smooth, crackling lyrics – as if squeezed through a broken megaphone – fire into his band’s funky sound. Bass lines are tight, driving grooves, and drums are loose, shaking jams. Billy May’s lead guitar – especially when his fingers run up the instrument’s neck – stretches and bends with a cool quickness.

Where at times I find the Bonetwister album slightly ordered and prescribed (qualities hard to avoid when recording solo), the live interpretations of the songs have a new, dynamic element to them. Some have changed so much they’re hardly recognisable from the recording. This, I believe, is due not only to the obvious musicianship of the band members, but the fun the four have in bringing the songs to life.

Just as James’ family danced around the kitchen six years ago, tonight his band – and a smattering of excited audience members – dance to them again. They grin, wobble, and sling their bodies around. There is a contagious quality to the fun. It’s hard not to smile watching it unfold.

As the performance ends to applause, and the project is successfully launched into the world, I find myself hoping that this fun persists into the future. Not only in live shows – of which I’m sure there will be many – but in more recorded music.

Bonetwister’s debut album should not be looked at as a final statement. Instead, it is as an indicator of James’ songwriting abilities. Free from the confines of the pandemic, and now with an excellent band in tow, I’m excited to experience the fun the project is able to produce next.