Blending the pub-rock spirit of Australia with the political fire and intensity of their Greek upbringing, Frenzee are an all-sibling band shaped by family.
“I mean, our eating habits are Greek,” they say. “But our love for the pub is definitely Australian.”
Bikini Kill’s Kathleen Hanna coined the famous rally cry ‘Girls to the front!’, and this is something Frenzee are pushing at their shows. Crowd surfing, all-girl-encouraged mosh pits and total chaos exist side by side. Reading Hanna’s autobiography, frontwoman Apollonia Xylouris was inspired.
“We want everyone involved,” she explains from Crete. “It’s a safe environment to rock the fuck out. Women are always pushed to the side. All you need is everyone to be having a good time. Just not being a dickhead, basically.”
Growing up between Melbourne and Crete, they discovered Bikini Kill, AC/DC and The Prodigy via their mum’s record collection. From there, Frenzee evolved as a punk, metal, rock, riot grrrl-inspired band.
Brothers Nikos (drums) and Adonis (guitar) first picked up instruments thanks to their Aussie mum and Greek Dad musician parents, and unknowingly trained for Frenzee’s stamina-burning shows through marathon eight-hour gigs in their traditional Greek folk band.
But don’t think there’s anything chilled about Frenzee. Moving away from their trad folk roots, you’ll hear ample traces of Lemmy in their DNA, while Apollonia channels the confrontational electricity of Kathleen Hanna and Keith Flint. Running off “red wine, darts and very high acid reflux” – which seems to be the Frenzee modus operandi – their identity informs everything they do, combining the loose, humoured spirit of Australia with the emotional intensity and political frustration of Greece.
“The ‘ragey’ aspect of Frenzee would be the Greek side of us,” they explain, “because there’s a lot of anger built around all the politics here. Everything that’s wrong with Greece is right in front of your eyes.”
Yet both cultures share a similar spirit, built around community, resilience and gathering at a bar. It’s that duality that’s become the unique fingerprint that Frenzee stickily leave on everything they touch – it’s on their self-titled EP and first LP What’s Wrong With Me (a third release is being mastered as we speak).
Armed with distortion, fury and acid reflux, Frenzee are proving that punk’s most important traditions aren’t just preserved in history books; they’re kept alive in sweaty rooms full of people who are ready to make a difference. And it’s known that well-behaved women seldom make history. “[Frenzee] is an outburst of adrenaline,” Apollonia concludes. “It’s a boost of energy, you know? Makes people leave jaded up.”
