As a twenty-something who never lived through the 50s, I feel like a bit of a poser when I say that I yearn to do the twist again, you know, like I did or did not do last summer. But every so often, something creeps down my legs; igniting a desire to swivel not dissimilar to those my mother gets after a couple of G&Ts. Luckily we have Melbourne three-piece ScotDrakula to satiate that twist-and-shout craving we all get but don’t admit to. I caught these guys on a Monday night at sticky-carpeted haunt The Evelyn, not expecting to be in the mood to dance, but with a blast of rough garage-flavoured swing, my mood was also appropriately swung. These guys are a hell of a lot of fun, thrashing out late 50s rock and roll, dipped in punk and served on an edgy indie-rock platter, and it’s delicious indeed. There’s nothing more freeing than lurking in the shadows while bodies convulse, twist, thrash and do the pony around you. These guys have a devoted following, the party I joined were seeing them live for the third time. It seems that everyone has a collective expectation of a ScotDrakula show: you’re going to dance, you’re going to sweat, you’re going to have an amazing damn time. It was something of a cult appointment, people thrashing about in the dark, lifting each other, twisting, jumping, with not a single fuck given. As a self-conscious crowd dancer, I initially observed the chaos, wondered at it, but it took very little time before I became just as lost, energised by the unrelenting sound. Music should be a freeing experience, and leaving this set, that’s exactly what I felt. Puffed, sweaty no doubt, but free. I entered as one of those poodle skirt wearing conservative 50s kids, a wilting if wanting wallflower. But that sound stripped me down to the Olivia Newton-John style catsuit, ready to pulse, convulse, riot and twist. Thanks ScotDrakula, you made a Sandra Dee out of me. I hope you’re happy, because I am.

Words by Natalie Tencic