FLOWER POWER
Now bolstered by the songs and shriek of new frontman Glenn Hughes, The Dead Daisies are a supergroup to take seriously. High time, then, to settle the debate over whether this is a ‘real’ band or just a rich man’s plaything.
Words: Henry Yates
David Lowy, Dead Daisies rhythm guitarist and de facto leader, takes a deep breath and prepares to address the elephant in the room. “Look,” he says, “we didn’t start out like a bunch of teenagers, each of us pitching in a hundred dollars of our savings. One of the first gigs we did was opening for ZZ Top.” We have not come to cast aspersions on The Dead Daisies. The Australian-American-British supergroup are rapidly becoming one of the most exciting bands in modern rock. Their newly release fifth album Holy Ground is a roaring return that finds incoming frontman and chief songwriter Glenn Hughes somewhere near the top of his game.
“This new album is all about what’s going on between birth and death,” the well-travelled bassist/vocalist explains. “Fear, faith, denial, celebration and happiness. All those ‘feeling’ words, y’know?”
“I don’t do anything for money. I’ve
never done that. Money never comes
into the question. Nah. Not at all.”
Glenn Hughes
We’ll get to that. But here’s the thing. Even now, eight years after the band’s formation, a vocal minority of snarkier rock fans still insist that the Dead Daisies have a plastic heart. The conspiracy theory goes something like this. As the eldest son of Westfield
Corporation co-founder and Australia’s real-estate king Frank Lowy – not to mention being a formidable businessman in his own right – 66-year-old David Lowy has ridden the executive shuttle to headliner status. While other new bands tramp the boards of every rat hole in town, he has been able to open a bottomless attaché case and pay top dollar to a conveyor belt of name sidemen, from Guns N’ Roses keyboard player Dizzy Reed to sometime Mötley Crüe singer John Corabi.