Screaming Tribesmen Are a Mild Bunch

The members of the Screaming Tribesmen probably have a great record collection. Listening to the quartet from Sydney, Australia, at the Scream on Saturday, one could hear all kinds of Merseybeats and ‘60s garage-punk nuggets hopping out from this shaggy band of kangaroo rockers.

While the Tribesmen’s name and caveman symbols (their new American album release is titled “Bones and Flowers”) might give off some ghoulish, Cramps-like image, the group’s pristine vocal harmonies, framing lead singer Mick Medew’s nasal chirp, are more reminiscent of Herman’s Hermits than Herman Munster.

Unlike fellow Aussies the Hoodoo Gurus, who underline their neo-psychedelic pop with an appropriate sense of humor, the Tribesmen lack any edge of self-parody, even going in for a faithfully uninventive version of hoary rock chestnut, Jimi Hendrix’s “Purple Haze.” Slick, retrogressive, the Screaming Tribesmen are solid, efficient and not terribly important.