Album Review: I’m Gonna Smile by Blue Ruin – A Gritty Slice of Aussie Indie Rock Gold
Let’s get one thing straight—Blue Ruin’s I’m Gonna Smile isn’t your polished, radio-friendly rock album. Released in 1990 under the MDS label, this Australian gem is raw, unfiltered, and dripping with indie rock attitude. It’s like someone took a snapshot of a sweaty pub gig in Melbourne and slapped it onto vinyl. And honestly? That’s what makes it so damn good.
The band brought their A-game here, with Quincy’s raspy vocals cutting through like a rusty knife, Mulaim Vela shredding on guitar like his life depended on it, and Phill Calvert keeping things tight behind the drum kit. Simon Capp’s basslines are sneaky little earworms that creep up on you when you least expect it. Tony Cohen’s mixing magic seals the deal, giving tracks like “City of Churches” and “Diesel Smile” a punchy edge that still holds up today.
Now, let me tell ya about two tracks that’ll stick to your brain like gum under a barstool. First off, there’s “Lighthouse Girl.” This tune hits hard—not just because of its driving rhythm but because it feels like a story you’ve lived before. The lyrics paint these vivid images of isolation and longing, and Quincy’s delivery is equal parts gravelly and heartfelt. You can almost smell the saltwater as the song builds into this chaotic swell of guitars and drums. By the time it ends, you’re left breathless, wondering if you just survived an emotional shipwreck.
Then there’s “Shot Gun Hips,” which is basically the opposite vibe but equally unforgettable. It’s sleazy, swaggering, and packed with enough attitude to fill a biker bar. The riff alone could start a mosh pit, and those backing vocals? Pure fire. There’s something gloriously unhinged about how everything comes together—it’s messy in all the right ways, like spilling beer while dancing too close to strangers. I mean, come on, who doesn’t love a track that makes you feel invincible for three minutes?
What really ties this whole thing together is the art direction. Dowie Bucks killed it with the design, creating visuals that match the music’s grungy charm. And props to Phaedra Press for the photography—it’s gritty, moody, and perfectly captures the band’s vibe. These guys weren’t trying to be pretty; they were trying to be real. And boy, did they nail it.
Looking back, I’m Gonna Smile feels like a forgotten relic from another era—an album that never quite got the spotlight it deserved. Maybe that’s part of its appeal. Listening to it now feels like finding a dusty cassette tape at a garage sale and realizing it’s a treasure trove of untold stories.
So yeah, give this one a spin if you’re craving something authentic. Just don’t blame me if “Shot Gun Hips” gets stuck in your head for days. Oh, and hey—if anyone knows where I can find a legit copy of the vinyl, hit me up. My turntable misses albums like this.
