Würst nürse
MEET WÜRST NÜRSE: FIVE MEDICAL PROFESSIONALS BLOWING OFF STEAM WITH A DOSE OF ROCK.
Like all good origin stories, Würst Nürse’s began after a few too many beers at the pub. In 2016, the five long-time friends (who also all happen to be nurses) were shooting the breeze in Melbourne, venting about a shitty day at work, when someone piped up: “How funny would it be if we started a nurse band?”
As it turns out, pretty damn funny. Show up to a Würst Nürse gig and you’ll be treated to a ripping set of scatological wordplay, alongside satirical tunes about being horny for hot doctors. (“We were sick of being sexualised, so we flipped it and sexualised a guy,” drummer Abbie Laderman says.) On stage, the punk-rock band is unapologetic about its repertoire of “dumb music” and social commentary (which takes aim at matters like nursing’s lowly wage and status). “If you don’t like it, we don’t care,” lead singer Stephanie Butigan says plainly.
Despite their bold approach, the ladies are quick to point out that no one in the band particularly likes the spotlight. And while music has always been a keen interest for the members, for a long time the thought of picking up instruments and standing on traditionally male-dominated stages was terrifying. “We’re all introverts!” Abbie reveals with a laugh. “I like playing drums because I can sit at the back and no one sees me.” Steph describes herself as an anxious person who is “able to mask it quite well”. Performing, then, is a constant mission to enjoy the moment. “You know when you’re so nervous before a speech, and when it’s over you hardly remember it?” Abbie says. “We want to overcome that.”
What initially started as a joke has quickly become an important creative outlet for the group. For one, it’s satisfying to use serious medical knowledge in a tongue-in-cheek context. “Science is cool!” Abbie enthuses, suggesting the catchphrase should adorn the band’s merch. There’s also the collective opportunity to decompress from the tougher parts of their jobs. “I get assaulted and insulted every day,” Steph says of her psych nursing shifts. “We understand patients’ positions – it’s an undignified time for them and it’s scary. But it does wear you down. I want nurses to be treated better, and the mental health system to be better.”
These darker experiences in nursing have resulted in songs like “Dedication Doesn’t Pay the Rent” – a tune written in response to 2017’s penalty rate cuts. “If you cut our pay, we’ll cut your oxygen,” the band spits out over driving riffs, weaving in gripes about ballooning university debts and disrespect from “suit-wearing white men”. Their songs aren’t just for the nurse community, though. Steph is hopeful their words will inspire others to get up on stage and “scream about what pisses them off” – encouraging people to “stand up and fight back.”
The women count themselves lucky to have found a bunch of friends who just get it. Each ‘Würst Nürse’ specialises in a different medical area – Abbie works in the neurosurgical ward; lead guitarist Anna Stein in the intensive care unit; bassist Morgan Sterley in oncology and haematology; and rhythm guitarist Nikki Arris in the emergency department. (Contrary to popular assumption, though, they didn’t meet at a hospital, but while attending the same gigs as young'uns.) Band meet-ups slot in where possible – everyone understands the unsociable nature of shift work. And when they sit down to write together, it’s a collaborative process. “We rarely have conflicts,” Abbie says. “Every idea is worth pursuing,” Steph adds. “I don’t even know how much we get paid for our shows because, in the end, it doesn’t matter. We do it for fun and because we love each other.”