Thursday, May 27, 2004
Another week, another big push elsewhere!I'm currently writing a lot of stuff that's going towards other projects - most notably FasterLouder (the home of rockin' genius for this wide brown land, y'all), but there's some other things on the boil, also. I guess that means that it could be feast or famine for the regular readers here - assuming that there's any of you left. It's strange - it's not that I'm having a hissy fit, or jumping about the blog-closing bandwagon: it's just that the locus of my writing has changed in recent months.
This is partially due to me being a lot busier these days, and partially because I think my feelings on writing may have developed.
It's not just here, I guess. I'm not as active on certain forums as I used to be, possibly because I'm going through a bit of a Zorba stage. You know, the idea that to live is to take off your belt and to look for trouble. I'm thinking more and more about things I want to do, and attempting to move them a lot further towards reality and a lot further away from pie-in-the-sky. Which, as you can imagine, might take a bit of effort.
As this is the case, the blog's a bit of a back-burner item at the moment. It probably will be updated just as regularly as it is now, but you know - I'll feel less guilty about it. Heh. So don't fear: bodgy writing will remain.
Does this qualify as an epiphany? Maybe, but maybe it's just me finally deciding that there's some things that, if I want them to eventuate, I'm gonna have to make a priority and put a lot more effort into. Hit the ground running and don't fucking stop, I suppose.
It's refreshing, you know, to be on the brink of something exciting. I like it.
Anyway. Writing elsewhere, for your delectation: a Doves/New Order news story; a write-up of the Johnny Cash auction that happens later this year; a look at Hank Rollins' and Ian MacKaye's new record label; review of an utterly fabulous Bugdust gig and an interview with the most rockin' Canuck I've met, Danko Jones. Who, incidentally, I see play tonight. Which will, indubitably, rock with fists of steel.
Go on. Go outside and get some rock in yer! And if you need some suggestions, let me just say that you can never go wrong with The Hellacopters. Universal are flogging their last album cheap, so you should ALL go out and buy it. Rock of the north rules.
Thursday, May 20, 2004
Hey y'all.I'm back, but I haven't got much to report. I've been really busy at work, and I've consequently been offline a whole stack. Well, not offline, but you know how it is - concentrating at work and having a stack of stuff to do otherwise doesn't make for particularly scintillating weblog reading. I'm currently writing this post from the offices of FBI Radio in Sydney (which you should all become members of, assuming you live in broadcast range) and can say it's where I've spent one of my more unique evenings. I met Anton Newcombe of The Brian Jonestown Massacre, along with Matt Tow (of The Lovetones and Drop City; one of the first bands I ever saw live, legally). And it's certainly been interesting, given Matt's gentlemanly nature and Anton's interconnected conspiratorial erudition.
But maybe that's the load of James Squire beer talking.
No, wait a minute - my mate Jacinta, she of the beer-providing - is about to rock the mic like a hurri-cane:
Okay.. so we are all here drinking beer at a radio station ready to interview brian jones town massacre... and Anton (BJM) walks in. Skinny weedy wiry pissed guy. needs a shave. wearing caramel kahkey brown woolens, including socks, and looks like he should be drinking with bukowski. vaguely irish with the clearest transparent eyes. everynow and again they settle on you like a butterfly... yes he's slobberingly drunk. dunno. whats the big fuss is about. everyone is going legend legend. yeah maybe. but seedy as fuck. totally mad. manic-ly so. in a good kinda way tho. and lukey wrote a mad review about him. in fact anton wanted to meet him for it (check out fasterlouder), (mad vs mad) so much so. but anyway i liked anton... Anton..he was pretty funny. totally bonkers. arent we all. in all a strange night. luke has been putting up with stroppy people all night. shitty stroppy drunk people. first nick (drunk on arrogance). jacinta (just pissed off with nick and eventually pissed cos she was so pissed off, oh and then she had some booze), then anton (just drunk and pissed off and mental). thats what he does. luke. he just deals withshit. and he's in love. so its easy for him. me. i am am his drunk pissed friend that makes him stay out too late. because i know that he's only got a few more months left in him before he settles into the inevitable "less mental mode" dare i say couple mode. not a bad thing. we all need a break from ourselves,inner demons and what have you not. anyway BJT were pretty wild fun. lots of american chatter. mixed with madness and "what the fuuck" american accent. vodka. beers. smoking in doors. sigh. bombs. german war plans. ... its a night of nights. and luke has let me intervene cos i said "thats so not what happened tonite~!"... and so over he handed me the keyboard. its one of those weird ergonomic keyboards that is like a set of binoculars set too wide apart. hard to type. bsvkto thr point... its been a big night. Anton... brian jones town massacre. dont miss it if you can avoid it. so yeah... LUKEY is HAVING a flopping BIG night!!!!!!!!!!!! word.. the BJT gig could as easily be a massive FLOP
There you go! A guest blogger. And I can't think of a lovelier lady to be filling this here page with wonderful words.
Now, back to other stuff. As for music writing, I've recently written a news story about Hank Rollins' new radio show and wrote a review of the new Pixies greatest hits collection that I think is a reasonable piece of writing, anyway. I'd like to know if you think the same.
So there we go. I'm in a radio studio at the moment, listening to a someone I care for a huge amount rock the airwaves. And I'm feeling pretty all right about things at the moment - and hope all of you feel the same.
(Yeah, I know. Tomorrow, I'm sure I'll be back to the old curmudgeon, but for now, just go with it!)
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
OK. To apologise for the ringing in your ears, I give you the chance to play the instruments that were made by Harry Partch, boho musical nut.They're neat-o. And not a codpiece to be seen.
link | mail |
Before I wound you with musical memories, perhaps you'd like to go read this review of Marky Ramone's spoken word gig. I checked the man out - in fine company, no less - as he lay down the punk law (well, showed us his kiddie pics, actually) and played some Ramones tunes with The Spazzys, and it was mighty fine, as they say in the classics.
Right. Now, just quickly, the incessant scream of Lovecraftian terror that is The Pirate Movie. The more diligent among you may've recalled that I did, at one point, wonder where that particular movie had gone. It's been out of print for years, and my memories of it exist on the same plane where Ben Oxenbould is still playing the lead in Fatty Finn. (Some would argue that the guy never actually did a day's work better than that, but I guess when your biggest cinematic achievement involves being stuck upside-down in a garbage bin and having lipstick drawn all over your bare arse, you reach higher - no matter if 'higher' means 'Hey Dad..!'. And yes, that's apparently the true punctuation: what slack fucks.)
Sorry.
Anyway. What I'm trying to say is that, far ago, before I'd discovered THE ROCK, this flick was kinda enjoyable. You know, when I was a little kid. And probably proof positive that I had some sort of severe taste impediment when I was a young'un. I mean, read the script, for fuck's sake. How could anyone think you could put Ted Hamilton, Garry MacDonald, Rhonda Burchmore, Kirsty MacNicholl and Christopher Atkins in a flick and get anything watchable? I suppose, though, at this time, that it would've given Alby Mangels' selection of Funniest Outback Videos Masquerading As Serious Fillum flicks (World Safari numbers one to three thousand inclusive) a pretty good run for its money. Although I'm certain that there's slightly less boob shots in The Pirate Movie.
Again, I digress. The rose-coloured glasses of childhood memory had to come off sometime, I suppose. And they've been bitchslapped off by the discovery, prompted by a forum conversation, that someone is streaming the soundtrack to the film, online. A soundtrack ripped from vinyl. (Which is cool, though if it'd been half-inched from an 8-track, I'd be much more worshipful.) It's sort of like the musical equivalent of a Nietzchean proof of God's death - but worse. The planet, upon hearing this, should be so imbued with shame that it disappears up its own fundament. Bad rooting jokes set to an abortionate take on Gilbert & Sullivan's rockin' operetta - yowza. What was I thinking? Jesus. It's so very, very much worse than I'd ever remembered it as being. No wonder it's not been released on CD: given the almost-sentient nature of today's musical equipment, I'm sure there'd be CD players making lemming-like jumps into pools of water everywhere.
I'm up past my bedtime for this? I'd book my own lobotomy, but I fear that the miraculously awful slide on Pumpin' And Blowin' has already begun the job. Who knows - next post I might start writing like one of the cool crowd. Or, perhaps, I'll just be that rhesus monkey who's finally nailed the typewriter/Hamlet schtick - assuming I'm not already.
God, I hope someone listens. I can't have these tunes in my head all on my own. Fuck The Ring - THIS is the thing that'll kill you if you don't pass it on. Much like that Spanish Flea tune.
And breeeeeeeeeeathe!
link | mail |
Thursday, May 06, 2004
Well. It's been a while. So here's a couple of disposable links instead of long, drawn-out copy. Take advantage of other people's misery to make your own Iraq sign, look at some great band names, learn some wonderful comebacks, read about a book I'm really keen to read, get through Gravity's Rainbow - which I'm probably rereading in a couple of weeks - the easy way, discover Mickey's dilemma, look at the coolest suit ever and dig a nifty moon shot. From the somethingawful files, I can also recommend checking out Yahoo personals, cartoon genius, some century-swapping, tarot foolery, toy trouble, something better than slashfic, some mad music and tribute to the time-honoured acknowledgement that war is safe.Phew.
There's some more writing to occupy your time available over at the fine FasterLouder. Some are reviews, and some are just newsy bits, but I'm liking the writing I'm doing there, and find that it's some of the more rewarding stuff I've done of late - that should explain why this site hasn't been as updated with quite as much voraciousness as may have been exhibited in the past. I'm still here, but I'm putting a lot into this music writing caper, so the navelgazing crap will have to wait. (Especially, given that I'm actually happy with things and people that're around me now, so I have less of a tendency to do so!)
Right. On with the moosik. The stuff I've done recently includes my thoughts on Tonight Alright by Spiderbait, a Tom Waits album update (which NME claimed was exclusive - pig's arse!), a Rocket Science news story, a review of The 5.6.7.8s, a live review of The Spazzys, a live review of the criminally underappreciated Tourettes, some PJ Harvey news and a review of We Sweat Blood by the phenomenal Danko Jones. There's more on the way, too, so just hold onto your hats.
In tribute to the upcoming Electric Six tour of Australia, I have to point out (though you hep netizens have already undoubtedly seen it many times) the greatest Quicktime movie ever made. (Of course, you can view the original here, or look at some helmed kitties doin' their thang instead.)
I'm planning on seeing the band as part of the Splendour In The Grass festival, later on in the year - the same place where Spiderbait, PJ Harvey and Franz Ferdinand (amongst others) are playing. So that should be nice.
Right. Lunchtime is almost over, so I should bugger off. Enjoy the reading, give me some feedback, and don't take any wooden nickels.
link | mail |
Friday, April 23, 2004
So, the USMC believes that those pesky Muslim rebels hate AC/DC, eh? I think they'll find they'd have more success if they were using Big Balls rather than Shoot To Thrill, personally, but maybe that's just me.ANother short posting as I'm about to head off to Newcastle and surrounds for the weekend. But it's been busy here, hence not a lot of time to update. Lots of listening to music and seeing gigs, which is a pretty nice way of doing things, really. But there's also some more writing for you to read, too. You could try this, about Shane MacGowan getting lamped while out on the piss, this story about Bill Wyman's boomerang guitar, this review of Gentle Ben And His Sensitive Side (who rock, incidentally), a Horrorpops review, my thoughts on Phantom Planet's newie/oldie, a drubbing of Papa M's latest single, this look at the Solbakken/The Black Heart Procession combination, and, finally, my thoughts on the Franz Ferdinand album.
Phew. SO while there's not a lot of stuff going on here, there's a lot of stuff going on in general. But things are, to quote Janet from Spiderbait, fucken' awesome. So enjoy.
link | mail |
Saturday, April 03, 2004
Live, The Von Bondies ain't all that and a bag of chips. Sad, given that Pawn Shoppe Heart is a blinder of an album. But y'know... they came across as a band that's played a lot of showcases, and can play their tunes exceptionally well: just without the spark that a really enjoyable live gig requires. A shame - though a chance to see The Mess Hall shouldn't ever be passed up. If there's a band with rockstar status written all over it, it's them.Short posting, but thanks to LMG I give you a comprehensive list of Robin's 'Holy ...!' sayings. My favourite, naturally, is Holy Priceless collection of Etruscan snoods! That's an ejaculation anyone would be proud of.
Friday, April 02, 2004
Still alive, but still computerless. I'm sitting on someone else's computer, about to have a rockin' dinner before I head off to see The Von Bondies at the Metro this evening. It's the first Friday night of a [largely] alcohol-free April, so we'll see how it goes; financial necessity and health considerations are pretty much informing that one, but you know - onwards and upwards. Just don't call me straight-edge, otherwise I'll shiv you.Ahem.
A couple of things I've written for FasterLouder have gone live, including these news stories. Another review of mine has made album of the week, also, so I'm pretty happy with that. Go and read 'em, as when this thing goes big, you'll be able to claim oldschool status. Which will, of course, entitle you to the derision of the young, but y'know - fuck'm. Heh.
I'm serious. Go read. I'm proud of this writing and of the site. It's about time.
The new computer arrives next week, with any luck, so I should be back on the air before too long. But I exhort all of you out there still in possession of a silicon friend to take great advantage of this storehouse of True Metal goodness. Because, let's face it - your computer isn't complete unless it bears a desktop image of the Grim Reaper, tear-arsing through a stained-glass window atop a Harley-Davidson.
Rock on. And be excellent to each other.