funhouse

Wet Ink Review of Subterranean Redneck Blues

2011-11-28T22:40:00.000-08:00

The newest issue of Aussie Lit magazine Wet Ink has a review of Subterranean Redneck Blues - "speaks to a critical audience of fringe dwelling poetry lovers." They get it!! And so should you! www.ozmusicbooks.com

humbling review

2011-05-03T16:09:00.000-07:00

hobo camp review's main hobo James H Duncan has reviewed Subterranean Redneck Blues over at http://hobocampreview.blogspot.com - and he's made me blush! check it out...

book still available from www.ozmusicbooks.com

Subterranean Redneck Blues

2011-04-05T17:11:00.000-07:00

Winner Single Collection Award 2010 Poetry Unleashed Festival. Subterranean Redneck Blues is "the poetry of an ordinary life: of confusion, yearning, love and death... and rock and roll" - David Creese - Musician (Lizard Train, Dumb Earth)

Kami's first full collection of poetry (don't you love 'third person' writing) according to festival judge and poet Miriel Lenore, "In this book we meet a significant new poet. Kami introduces and engaging larrikin who grows from childhood to maturity through a series of mistakes, failures and epiphanies."

Available now from www.ozmusicbooks.com and selected stores in Adelaide, Melbourne and Millicent. You can also contact me direct... cammy@arcom.com.au

Paypal is available as is bribery, beer and flattery. $15 plus postage.

Matt Krieg reviews Elliot Sharp

2010-08-31T03:14:00.000-07:00

Elliott Sharp: ‘The Velocity of Hue’ solo acoustic guitar

Emanem 4098 New Music / Free Improvisation

Elliott Sharp is a polymath musician who wields the guitar, saxophone, written score and conduction baton with equal integrity and commitment. He has been busily mapping out his own very individual musical path for forty+ years and has a wealth of diverse music on offer, from the overdriven avant skronk rock of his group Carbon, to process-based compositions, to opera and of course plenty of improv, much of it on rather loud and blues drenched electric guitar. Here, though, is an intimate close-up of Sharp and just one unamplified guitar, a slightly modified Godin steel string acoustic, offering a level of exposure and insight into his music-making that shows up yet another gleaming facet of his diamond edge sound world. Although recorded and released in 2003 it’s as fresh, immediate and ear-grabbing as the day it was made. One man and a guitar, freely improvising, recorded with needle point clarity: Delta blues bent through the prism of fractal intelligence; echoing sonorities of the Asian string family; drone murmurs and sliding moans of unknown nomads; slow motion bird displays and eight-legged spider crawl hyper-hammer-on expositions that take melody and your ear in several directions at once. Elliott Sharp covers a lot of musical ground on his exquisitely resonant guitar, with a steady flow of melodic and rhythmic ideas that unfold over an hour or so. No clichés, no pretensions, but a vivid and magnetic soul search with wood, steel and space. Judicious uses of e-bow along with a plethora of techniques are always employed at the service of the music. ‘Velocity’ immediately stood out in the Emanem catalogue as an American’s take on improvisation amidst a stableful of mainly British improvising musicians and was instantly a welcome addition to the fold. Marc Ribot, another ubiquitous NYC denizen of guitar, pens a pithy and celebratory liner note, and I wholeheartedly concur with him: ‘It’s a beautiful record’. One for the whole family, to be enjoyed time and again.
Contact: www.emanemdisc.com / md@emanemdisc.com / www.elliottsharp.com

A Night On The Town!

2010-06-23T16:20:00.000-07:00

Jazz From Hell launches another chapbook

2010-06-08T17:13:00.000-07:00

THURSDAY JUNE 17 @ SQUATTERS ARMS HOTEL George Street Thebarton SA

LAUNCH OF THE NEW JAZZ FROM HELL CHAPBOOK:

Rat's Alley by Smith-Sochacki.

FREE ENTRY, Kicks off from 8, OPEN MIC after the launch hosted by
Teri-Louise Kelly. plus live music and redneck lounging

Rat's Alley

2010-06-08T17:00:00.000-07:00

The newest title from Jazz From Hell - Rat's Alley by Smith-Sochacki. A short, sharp jab to the gut from an up and coming fighter. Perhaps we'll let him do the talking.
"From the 1st job you quit to your first lay - I guess it was all schoolboy bravado that got you there..."

$5 ppd Jazz From Hell PO Box 278 Edwardstown SA 5039 Australia

Paypal available too - cammy@arcom.com.au

healter skelter

2010-02-28T23:58:00.001-08:00

creeping
across a no man’s land
of past transgressions
broken hearts & shattered jaws
towards an ATM
in the hopes of a banking error
in my favour
so I can maybe buy
some knowledge
or another vowel
vitamin fortified water
fresh air
an autographed photo
of Al Gore
or Buddha grinning
as he shakes hands with Rupert Murdoch
the son of man awaits martyrdom
but until then
he’s not even allowed a guitar
in his cell
and I’d tie my belt to the door knob
but they use sliding doors
in this hotel hell
and anyway
I no longer wear the pants
in this family
feud

The Ghost Of Young Griffo

2009-06-24T23:49:00.001-07:00

232 recorded fights – 9 losses the greatest ‘pure’ boxer Australia ever produced – Albert Griffith – Young Griffo – was a turn of the century pugilist, a world champion long lost to the dusty pages of sporting history, a drunkard, a comedian and a legend; a phantom who taunted his foes from across the ring or across the bar room. He died a pauper in a foreign land, forgotten by all but the boxing purists but his ghost lives on.

a 13 pome suite about the life and times of pugilist Young Griffo, this chapbook is not what you would expect from Kami. That said, it has been in the works for more than a year and Jazz From Hell is prouder than a home brewer with an award winning hangover to present The Ghost Of Young Griffo. Fifty copies only, hand numbered and signed. $5 ppd worldwide. paypal is available as is the old fashioned well concealed cash. email cammy@arcom.com.au for details

book launch coming up - get yr drinking boots on!

2009-02-09T19:03:00.000-08:00

Paroxysm Press presents S. F. & T.* (sucked fucked and tattooed) by Kami
reprint and re-launch
Friday 20th February
TUXEDO CAT
Rooftop 15-19 Synagogue Place off East Rundle St, Adelaide

Readings from:
KAMI
RECYCLOPATH
KERRYN TREDREA
INDIGO
MATTHEW SMITH
HEATHER TAYLOR JOHNSON
JENNY TOUNE
. . . WITH MORE TBA

plus acoustic from
G.G. ALAN BINDIG

Doors open 7 p.m. for 8 p.m. start – book launch & spoken word
free entry

2008 ANOTHER YEAR SURVIVED

2009-01-13T20:50:00.000-08:00

So another year down the tube – guess I should do one of them best of lists that are so popular as the year draws its last breath. Trouble is the years go by so quickly now that I’m not sure half the time what happened this week let alone this year. So if I go back a little in time, don’t bug me about it…. Hell it’s all the same anyway… it’s a consumer culture, we’ll have forgotten all about this in a week or two and need something else anyway.

So for what its worth….

Fave Music – Well I gotta say that the highlights this year would have to include the discovery of Big Blood – a husband & wife duo that I discovered via the grown so ugly blog… this is a mess o’ psych folk madness with a keening voice that reminds me a little of Kate Bush on some really good mushrooms or perhaps even Julie Dahlia if she went down that path…
Another grown so ugly discovery (and both are on myspace too) was Buffalo Wings, this kid has a style all his own. This is fucked up folk music filtering charles manson thru syd barrett’s ghost, creepy, crazy but definitely original.
And my personal fave band of the last coupla years (has it been that long? – I can’t tell) Solaris Earth Pipeline hit me with 45 on 33 – another stirling effort of redneck hiphop lounging. And I shouldn’t let the moment pass without mentioning PSY/opsogist’s solo effort Suffused With Static… this guy knows his music, loves it and it shows in these haunting instrumental scenarios/dioramas…
Stuart Busby kept me relaxed too with Radiance & Decay (on Kindling) – a snapshot of his holidays in aural form… this man knows how to relax!

Words – well I guess the biggest thing this year past was the tenth anniversary of Paroxysm Press, my publisher and all round fucked up crazy son of a bitch. Being involved behind the scenes of TEN YEARS OF THINGS THAT DIDN’T KILL US gave me more understanding of just what Daniel does and it was an honour to be in the damn book (which I never took for granted) – getting Kaplowitz, Misti Rainwater-Lites and David Rat into the book was a personal highlight too.
Another find was Glen W Cooper. Damn this son of a bitch can write! I’ve got three of his chapbooks and he’s covered Muhammad Ali, Rimbaud and Neddy Smith! What a cast of characters!
And for music zine type stuff I can’t go past BIXOBAL. After the death of Bananafish and Forced Exposure and the dullness of The Wire I’d given up on finding an intelligent zine that covered the fringes of music properly but Eric Lanzillotta stepped into the breach and has produced a zine that always has me wanting more. He knows his music and his art – hell, he ran Anomalous Records he should know his stuff… and now he’s running a record store!! (Disonnant Plane) A man who loves what he does.

Movie wise I’ve rediscovered my love for the b-grade. Thanks mainly to Demons Among Us, Metal Heads and Isle Of The Damned. Three low budget to no budget labours of love by guys who love film and love the fun of it all. Thanks guys for putting the beer back into b-grade films! And I can’t go past Boxing Day – another low budget, Aussie film made in real time with a story that’ll rip yr heart out. Superb movie.

Let me see, what else? Oh yeah, the big highlight was my stint as ‘boxing expert’ for People magazine. Getting paid to talk to the likes of Danny Green, Jeff Fenech, Nader Hamden, Sakio Bika and Lester Ellis!!! Damn but that was sweet. It’s a pity that boxing itself became a game of “Which old guy can I add to my resume?” Thank Christ for the likes of Vic Darchinyan who was prepared to step up and put his fists not just his mouth to the test. Taking out Cristian Mijares in November (considered the man at superfly) – Vic now holds the IBF, WBC &WBA belts. While other fighters keep telling us they’re the best but refuse to actually fight anyone who might challenge them, Vic has proved he is amongst the best in the world, not just his own backyard. The Margarito V Cotto fight was a corker too – the belter at welter lived up to the hype, one of the fights of the year for me. And David Hayes V Enzo Maccarinelli purely because of the feeling behind the fight as well as the way the Hayemaker played them for fools, talking about weight problems and all and then came in looking chiseled and knocked Maccarinelli on his ass (And Enzo still can’t admit he was beaten by the better man! Damn straight you got suckered by a smarter man and a better boxer, just admit it)
The best fights were local bouts though – like Alex Leapai and Pieter Cronje’s Heavyweight bout in Qld. Ten rounds of heavyweights actually fighting, not holding or dancing but throwing punches. A great bout. Another great heavyweight contest was the OPBF title bout between Nathan Briggs and Colin Wilson. With brother Paul in his corner, Nathan has stepped up plenty and after losing twice to Wilson in the past, the difference was plain to see.
Ahmed Elomar’s one punch knockout of Cool Willie Kickett was a boomer too. Forget the ruckus after, that punch was a beauty. So really the local fights provided plenty, while the big ppvs just didn’t get my dollar this year. Put up fights for titles, legit titles, legit challengers and you can have my money until then – forget it.

Is that it? I guess so. Shit, if you want to know what was good just look back at my Top Ten lists… its all there… (well the bits I can remember anyway)

Personally the year finished on a low with more family deaths and I’m starting to take it personally now. If we can spend a fucking fortune just to create Viagra and bloody creams and pills to make you look younger why can’t we find something to cure cancer?! Or at least slow it down… the modern world with all its artificial colours, flavours, sweeteners, chemical enhancers, ‘roids, pollution and who knows what else is killing us all… and every night on the news they announce another ‘breakthrough’ but it’s always still in development and we never ever seem to see its release. Don’t worry about wars or Armageddon, we’re already poisoned. End of sermon.

Old records never die

2008-10-26T17:04:00.000-07:00

So the plan was simple – I had the house to myself, a stack of old 78s that I had been gradually collecting from here and there, markets and the like, for some time, I even had three boxes full that my old boss Vic was throwing out – I dug out the Kingsley Stereo (woodgrain, internal stereo speakers housed in the sides, coin on the tone arm to stop it skipping) there was a six pack in the fridge, some green ginger wine in the cupboard, so what the hell – let’s play some records!!

I sifted through the boxes and through the pile in the garage and pulled out anything that looked good, or had a label I liked or a description that seemed well interesting and then I carefully balanced that twenty cent piece on the tone arm and listened thru the crackle and farts and had quite an educational night.

English banjo maestro Olly Oakly kicked things off with his sizzlin’ picking on The Mountaineer’s March (Regal label) which wasn’t too bad at all a place to kick off…

The Elliots on the Winner label (damn fine looking label too – I bought this in Mt Gambier just cos of the label ) were a comedy duo who’s a-side the Moscovitch Band was a pisstake Russian marching toon that was dang funny… b-side sucked though, didn’t even make it to the end.

The next song I recognised straight away – Brother Bones & His Shadows, Sweet Georgia Brown with whistling, sax solo, and the Brother’s bone playin percussion. Yep, it’s the Harlem Globetrotters Theme. Nice, clean copy too.

Another beer and then it was time for Jerry Lewis and We’ve Had A Very Merry Christmas! I love Jerry’s kid schtick. Still funny after all these years…

Now this was a sweet find – Aussie label W&G (1957) a double sider with The Moonlighters doing doo-wop classic Little Darlin’ on one side and Rex Turner on the other doing Butterfly. Turner is an early rockabilly dude but this was a stone cold pop tune. Sweet too.

Slim Gaillard on MGM doing A Serenade To A Poodle (with barks by Jim Hawthorne). Yep, as good as it sounds. What was that guy smoking?

Tipple of ginger wine to chase the beer down. Les Welch, one of Australia’s first real swingin’ pop stars (who you ask? History tends to overlook him but trust me, he was there in the beginning- even co-founded festival records). First up on Tempo is the old country favourite, Cigarettes, Whusky and Wild Wild Women with the Naked City 7 backing him up as he whoops it up. The b-side with a different band (8 Beat Boys) is the swinging and pumpin’ Elevator Boogie Blues. Then onto a Pacific label release with the Naked City 7 again – Get Up Off The Floor Hanna (them hogs gotta be fed)… a comedy hillbilly track about a gal who goes out to a party, freezes, gets home and drops dead but dad don’t have any sympathy cos, well, them hogs gotta be fed! B-side is a monologue called Life Gets Teejus… funny fella this Les.

Then another Pacific release with orchestra called The Thing. A novelty song about a strange thing that causes all sorts of trouble. Once again though the b-side is the killer. The Boogie Woogie 4 doing Boogie Woogie Stampede and boy, could Les play a piano. Raucous Boogie woogie pianer and stompin. Strange guy, he obviously wanted to keep his hand in every pie, I’m gonna have to dig a little deeper.

More Aussies with the Southern Jazz Group (1950 Wilco label) and the Columbus Stockade Blues. An Aussie Trad Jazz band who were big in their day, and I mean big.

And this was a real find even though it’s pretty scratchy now. On the Broadcast Deluxe series – the winner of the Australian Interstate Championship 1929. Harry Berry doing Fantasie Brilliante (Excerpts) on solo cornet!! Whatever happened to Harry?

Another Pacific release – Ray Dickson doing the Rock And Roll Waltz. At first I thought the belt was loose, a real strange sound, a waltz then it rocks out?? With burst of sax and drums! But no that’s what it is. Apparently Kay Starr had a big hit with this… a very odd little toon about finding yr parents waltzing to yr rock and roll! The b-side was a country style ballad about deserts and coyotes?? Maybe Pacific liked to cover all spectrums? Anyway, great song.

Kay Kyser and orchestra on Columbia doing the woody woodpecker song!!? A jazzy workout of our fave peckerhead complete with trademark laugh. And that’s the b-side! The a-side was called Kiss, Kiss, Kissin’ In The Corn with some real Bing Crosby style vocals by one Dick Jurgen.

Then it’s a piss break, more beer and Jack Parnell on Parlophone from the 1954 Super Rhythm Style Series doing the Duke’s Skin Deep. Parnell is no Louis Bellson but this song rocks. Other side Devil Eyes has that real cinematic feel with some bombastic ott vocals to open it up.

Matty O’Neil on Decca with a country lament we all understand – Don’t Sell Daddy Any More Whiskey… which reminds me, there’s some Maker’s Mark in the cupboard, might be time for a shot or two. This rekkid has been played a bit too often though and the surface noise ruins it. I’m gonna have to keep an eye out for another copy cos what I can hear sounds great.

Well, the bourbon might not have been such a great idea cos I’m fadin’. Let’s see what the Two Barnstormers can offer me. Whoa, old time fiddle and geetar with the Mary Jane Waltz and Wildflower Waltz… damn, that’s some sweet fiddlin’. Regal Zonophone, nice lookin’ label.

And another Regal Zonophone job, this time it’s old time country bluegrass with McFarland & Gardner – School House Dreams. Mandolin, violin and guitar… sweet as… I might just call it quits, I can’t see it getting’ any better than this tonight. And the beers done anyway.

Now I know I’ve got some Glenn Miller, Louis Armstrong and Billy Eckstine in the woodbox (part of the inheritance!)… maybe next time I might dig some jazz gems out. Maybe the old man had some Les Welch in there too. and trust me, you ain’t heard Glenn Miller until you’ve heard him on 78… that’s the only way to hear these guys.

2008-10-15T20:47:00.000-07:00

TOP TEN THINGS THAT MAKE IT WORTHWHILE

Yeah, it has been a while between lists – not because there’s been nothing good, just because somehow I’ve kept myself busy doing nothing… huh? yeah, I don’t understand it either.

BIG BLOOD – husband & wife duo that I discovered via grown so ugly blog… ex Cerberus Shoal band who I’d briefly discovered via Ptolemaic Telescope… this is a mess o’ psych folk madness with a keening voice that reminds me a little of Kate Bush on some really good mushrooms or perhaps even Julie Dahlia if she went down that path… great stuff anyways and they seem quite happy to share their work – I’ve downloaded four or five of their cd-r’s via grown so ugly and they are all damn good. I mean how many bands do you know who can cover a Can song and make it sound like their own? They’re on my friends list – check them out.

BUFFALO WINGS – another discovery via grown so ugly (well actually via a comment on the site). A young French-Anglo boychild with a style all his own. This is fucked up folk music filtering charles manson thru syd barrett’s ghost, creepy, crazy but definitely original. Again, you’ll find him on my friend’s page. His albums are available fer free as well and well worth the download.

BP JR #2 the last of the print editions (and even then very ltd) with Nicola’s (oops Sophie’s) long legs on the cover, PJ Harvey, Steve Kirby, Howard The Duck… Dann’s usual obsessions and pervy pix. Go to www.bettypaginated.blogspot.com for yr fix.

BIZARRISM #10 while in Newcastle for the writers fest it was great to catch up with old friends like Chris Mikul and to pick up the latest issue of his great zine Bizarrism. With Idi Amin, the birdman of kings cross, compulsive hoarders, book reviews and other madness it always makes for a good read. I’m gonna have to get the back issues I missed. Email him for details on getting yr fix. cathob@zip.com.au

COLLATERAL DAMAGE – MARK MANNING Picked this book up at Polyester in Melbourne. I guess you’d call it a journal/pocket book/chapbook maybe? Notebook size, even though its 190 pages its still a short, sharp and dark look at Amerikkka post 9/11 by Manning’s rock star alter ego Zodiac Mindwarp as we follow the band on tour across the great nation with lots of masturbation, drinking and bumming. A strange but funny journey with Zodiac’s sarcastic and vicious eye for detail showing us a seedy, dirty yankee land that we probably didn’t want to know about. No one is spared including himself. I laughed outloud on more than one occasion and that don’t happen much anymore. Twisted, fucked up and very very funny.

BOXING DAY – Aussie film filmed here in Adelaide covering one afternoon in one man’s life as he tries to get his life back on line only for the shit to come down around him. Real time, direct to digital video this is an experiment in form but it works beautifully. Look, my review is on DVD Holocaust, its all there, I won’t repeat it. Check it out and watch this film.

MU MESON ARCHIVES – Jamie and Aspasia hosted the Paroxysm Press Sydney launch of Ten Years and they were great. We didn’t get a big crowd but we had a good time and they didn’t seem to mind and it looks like we’ve found a base for ourselves in Sydney now and a good time was had by all. And the place just rocks. Check them out – they know how to have a good time.
www.mumeson.org

TEN YEARS OF THINGS THAT DIDN’T KILL US – did I mention the new anthology that Paroxysm Press put out? J its been keeping us all busy for the last few months but we managed to launch it in Melbourne, Sydney, Newcastle and Adelaide and damn but we’re tired. Being an old man, I’m totally rooted but hell, it was worth it. this is the best thing book Paroxysm has ever put together and I’m proud to have been involved let alone to have actually got some words in there as well. 49 authors Australia and worldwide – poems, short fiction, shotgun stories and the beauty of life in all its madness.
www.paroxysmpress.com for where to get it and trust me you won’t read anything better this year!

HEROIN LOVE SONGS – I got a mess o’ pomes in the latest issue of HLS. Also got a story in a book called HERDING KITES (Affirm Press) … and won a poetry slam in Pt Augusta (pissed the prize money away that night) and came second in the Friendly Street Slam a month or so back. Also was runner up in the Unhinged Single Poet competition last month so I guess something is going right/write. But I still gotta get a paying job cos the goodwife is getting tired of funding my lifestyle. (especially since she paid for my interstate trips!)

NEWCASTLE YOUNG WRITERS FESTIVAL – okay I don’t know how I got to go to a ‘young’ writers fest but paroxysm press did their thing – we kicked arse, drank far too much, insulted some people, sold a few books, proved we are the best and I got to run a REDNECK LOUNGE! That was the highlight for me, standing in the festival club courtyard playing Roger Miller and Dixie Chicks to a bunch of hippies and kids while we drank, wrote Beer-kus (like Haikus only not so rigid) and chilled out after a hard morning sitting on a publishing panel drinking VIRGIN BOURBON. I kid you not, what a name for a drink!
We launched the book that night and the next day someone liked my work so much they bought me a beer. That to me makes it all worthwhile!

BOOK LAUNCH ADELAIDE

2008-10-08T16:22:00.000-07:00

Well its the final leg of the TEN YEARS OF THINGS THAT DIDN'T KILL US tour and it's back home in Adelaide. Friday 10th October at Live on Light Square 63 Light Square Adelaide. Kicks off at 8pm Live readings from the paroxysm crew and a slew of newbies! plus live music from Palky and Spindickle. $5 entry. (18+) it's gonna be a blast. we had a great (if small) launch in Sydney thanks to Jamie and Aspa at Mu Meson and we kicked it hard in Newcastle now it's time to kill the beast in Adelaide. We've survived ten years now thru a lot of shit, pain, angst and beating our heads against walls - no grants, no favours just damn hard work and self belief. come and see why we're still here (here's a hint - cos we're fucking good!!)

Book Launch in Sydney and Newcastle

2008-09-25T18:26:00.000-07:00

Ten Years of Things that Didn’t Kill Us hits New South Wales

Thanks everyone who came to the Melbourne launch of our ten year

anniversary anthology and made it such a huge success – and what a party

afterwards! Thanks especially to Collected Works, Hells Kitchen and

Kristy Love for our various drinking venues. It was a great

afternoon/night and the stores have responded very well to the new

release. See www.paroxysmpress.com for the full list of Victorian retailers.

Next up is Sydney and then the National Young Writers’ Festival in

Newcastle.

We want every one of you in Sydney and everyone passing through on your

way to NYWF to come support the launch for ‘Ten Years of Things that

Didn’t Kill Us’. The people at the Mu-Meson Archives have welcomed us in

with open arms and we want to put on a good showing to return the

favour. For those of you not in the know – the Mu-Meson Archives screens

wicked cult films and ‘collectable’ footage, runs gigs, art exhibitions

and generally gets creative as hell in all the right ways! This is our

first Sydney launch outside of a set festival so get your arses down to

party with us. We’ll have local Paroxysm authors (including hopefully a

special guest) and full length sets from the touring crew, including the

Paroxysm Press publisher.

Sydney

Mu-Meson Archives at Crn Parramatta Rd & Trafalgar St Annandale (at the

end of King Furniture building up the steel staircase.) October 2nd

7.30pm for 8pm start $5 at the door.

www.mumeson.org

Then on to Newcastle to celebrate the event we first called our home

away from home – the National Young Writers’ Festival. Our ten year

anniversary release will be launched at the premier event of the long

weekend – the same event that sees the launch of the book celebrating

NYWFs own ten year history. (Expect some follow up information soon on

all the other gigs and panels the Paroxysm crew will be involved in at

this wicked festival.)

Newcastle:

As part of the NYWF ten year anniversary event - Saturday 4th October,

6:00pm-7:30pm, Festival Club, National Young Writers’ Festival.

And don’t forget the Adelaide launch will be on us soon – note that the

venue is changing address but its still the same guys – and still on

light square. And some more good news – for the second half of his

‘split-set’ for the night Spindickle will be bringing the full band!

Adelaide:

Friday 10th October, L!ve on Light Square, 63 Light Square. From 8pm -

Paroxysm spoken word plus acoustic from *Palky* and *Spindickle*.

18+ only. $5 entry.

ten years of things that didn't kill us

2008-08-25T20:30:00.000-07:00

TEN YEARS OF THINGS THAT DIDN’T KILL US

The new anthology from Paroxysm Press was launched on the weekend in Melbourne. We only got the book from the printers Wednesday arvo, left for Melbourne Thursday so I hadn’t even seen the finished product til Thursday arvo when Publisher brought it around. With the likes of Kaplowitz, Misti Rainwater Lites, David Rat, some prick called Kami, Hop Dac, Martin Downey, Kerryn Tredrea, Kristy Love and a host of others (39 writers/poets all up) this was going to be a killer book. Throw in some amazing artwork courtesy of Chad Divel and we’ve produced our best book by far. It’s been a decade since Publisher wandered into my shop looking for local writers. How time flies when you’re fucked up, struggling, boozing, battling diseases, cancer, deaths, and all the other shit but hell looking at this book made it all worthwhile. And yeah I am biased since I’m in the damn thing and I was one of the co-editors but this isn’t vanity press… publisher put his money on the line for this baby, hell he even paid me for the editing work! So this isn’t self published but it is self congratulatory… and I deserve it cos you know what? I’m pretty damn good!

The launch was a killer too… we launched it at Collected Works Bookshop, a very cool little shop run by a man Chris Hemmensley who has a real passion for the written word. He loves his poetry and he knows what is happening. It was great to fill the place up with people, do some readings, sell a pile of books and have a great time. He was smiling at the end and so were we. Apparently we set a record for the amount of people to come along to a launch too which is pretty damn nice to do when we’re from out of town and it was a more rock n roll crew than a literary crew but they still bought the book, drank the beer and then we had a session at Hell’s Kitchen, the coolest little bar in town, kicked on to Kristy Love’s birthday party and its sort of blank after that. I did wake up with a question mark in lipstick on my head though so I must have had a good time!

And I didn’t abuse anyone (well not too badly), I didn’t upset anyone (ok, maybe Rijn but I think she accepted my stupidity) I didn’t fall down or bang my head, everyone is still talking to me… so yeah, that’s a successful trip. (and I pulled a pretty good reading out of my drunken ass if I do say so myself – if you can have them laughing then holding back tears – well, you’ve done yr job)

Now I’m back in the real world – I gotta work out some income type stuff instead of all this outgoing… because we still got Sydney, Newcastle and Adelaide launches to come and that’s gonna burn a hole in my wallet!

Oh yeah, if you want the book, go to the website for stockists details and the online shop link! www.paroxysmpress.com

Top Ten Time

2008-06-30T19:15:00.000-07:00

It’s been a while… did I get busy or lazy? I’ll leave that to you

WWE Smackdown came to town and thanks to the goodwife’s work connections we had a corporate box to watch it from. Free beer, free food, great view, beezlebubby and I had made up some signs, CM Punk was there (beezlebubby’s unrequited love – a tattooed love boy, doh!), Kane, Edge, Batista and we finally saw The Undertaker in the flesh… hell, it doesn’t get much better. In fact we worked out after that the only boofheaded steroid abuser we haven’t seen yet that we want to see is probably Triple H. We’ve seen the others including the late great Eddie Guerrero on previous trips so only the son in law remains. He somehow always avoids Adelaide though. Must be the water.

Fenech Vs Nelson III – yeah I was one of those old farts on a nostalgia trip who went to see the fight. Begged and borrowed money to get to Melbourne to see the blue but it was worth it just to be there. Sure I constantly bag on bands getting back together and refuse to go see them – call me a hypocrite I don’t care. Difference is when a boxer makes a comeback you can be sure you’re going to see him in the ring – he can’t really put the makeup on someone else can he? Imagine the scene – Fenech V Nelson only Nelson didn’t want to do it so we found a young kid who can copy his moves to take his place! Not gonna happen. Of course, it was a one off and they were doing it for charity and pride so what the fuck… I cut them some slack.

Record Fair June Long Weekend where I bagged three, count em, three BILLY ECKSTINE records! (actually four but I already had one, being unsure had to grab it just in case) including some great early 40s material when Billy had his famous band of beboppers and pre stardom horn blowers. Quite a find. And then to make the day even better, three more volumes of The History Of Country Music – a cheapy cd series with all the early hillbilly/folk country music you could damn near want… or at least a fine taster.

Solaris Earth Pipeline – 45 on 33 cdr/download. Yeah the laid back redneck rappin’ fuckers are back with their next step in world domination. This one is a more laid back attack with the obvious maturity that comes with the years showing thru. Psyop’s splicing and dicing has never been better, a lot of the time I forgot it even was sampling and Raven of a thousand feathers has come a long way. Seemingly more accepting in his role and his fate but then, hell he’s just a likely to open the next album with some vitriol so I better not make him think he’s getting’ old. I am so maybe that’s why I dig this so much. And its winter here, when the summer hits I’ll be bumbling around in the back yard pretending to be gardening with this cranked up so loud the neighbours certainly wont feel it’s a laid back effort!

Getting some words published here and there, mostly courtesy of this devil called myspace. But hell I’m rapt to be included with my peers, these are people who’s words inspire me so to be alongside the likes of Jack Henry and Misti Rainwater Lites – Damn but that makes my day. Here’s the links (if the damn thing works, if not do the old cut and paste)

http://www.heroinlovesongsjournal.blogspot.com/

http://evisceratorheaven.blogspot.com/

http://www.lulu.com/content/2706939 JukeBox

http://www.lulu.com/content/2715662 Instant Pussy Dos

And speaking of downloads – I’ve been finding so much great old music and shit on the net that I barely leave the room to piss. Fear, Bad Brains, Emmett Miller, Daddy Cool, Nig-Heist, Vertical Slit, Billy Joe Shavers, old blues and 78s and I spend more time just looking at the sites going “which one to download first?” but to find Daddy Cool – sex, dope, rock’n’roll – teenage heaven that was the baby I wanted. Daddy Cool were one of Australia’s first huge acts of the 70s – Eagle Rock was massive and they were the pop band of the day but they were actually a bit smarter than what they were given credit for. Sex Dope was recorded after a tour of the US and though it had the obligatory single Hi Honey Ho (edited down to fit the format) it also had the great drive in suite – where we follow the young lovers to the drive in and they fumble through teenage lust and there’s even a great pisstake on the fifties ballad with “Donna” where he bombs out by touching her knee! Finishing the album with a sub zappa riff jam called Make Your Stash – about hiding yr drugs from the sniffer dogs and you can see this isn’t quite what the kids were expecting. My first copy of this was in a cheapy two record set called The Daddy Cool Story – one of the first albums I ever owned. One of the labels wasn’t glued down right and when I peeled it off, lo and behold, underneath was the original Sex Dope label! The cheap buggers had just taken this album, slapped some new labels on top, put it with a best of type lp and voila – The Daddy Cool story. Ah the good old days of Aussie rock.

FX Toole – Pound For Pound. Toole for those who don’t know wrote the short story that begat Million Dollar Baby. Unfortunately death had already claimed him before the movie hit and I had assumed that book of short stories, Rope Burn, was all he’d penned. Thankfully it wasn’t. Pound For Pound was the book he was working on when he died. Toole was a former trainer, cutman, insider - he knew the boxing game and it shows. Its been a long time since I sat down and read a work of fiction just for the sake of enjoyment (Easter maybe with JT Elroy’s book) but I sat down and consumed over 300 pages of bravery, tragedy and boxing in just a couple of days. It was a book that I’d pick up, read, put down in frustration, pick up again, put down and pick up again. He had a bad habit of giving too much info at times, especially about boxing but you soon realized it was all part of the story, all part of what he was trying to share. It sucked you in and pretty soon I forgot these fuckers weren’t real, that this was a work of fiction. It’s just a damn pity that there aint going to be anymore from him. He knew how to create a character, how to suck you in to the story, his background obviously gave him insights we ain’t gonna get and how he can’t pass them on to us anymore. But I can tell you, I’ll be using his work to help me with mine. I’ll never write a book this big, my style demands brevity, but much like Hemingway and Hank, Toole is a writer I’ll use for inspiration.

Glenn W Cooper – Rimbaud in the city & Outrun Your Fate. Damn this son of a bitch can write! I’ve got three of his chapbooks and he’s covered Muhammad Ali, Rimbaud and Neddy Smith! What a cast of characters! What a talent! What a son of a bitch! Strange that he’s a fellow Aussie but he’s more well known over seas… then again maybe not, poetry isn’t really given its dues in the land down under. Maybe he’ll have to write one about Cazaly or Jezza… damn it I shoulda kept that idea to myself. He’s on myspace, he’s in my friends list – check him out. He’s a good bloke. (even if he steals my ideas before I’ve even thought of them)

DVD Holocaust. I’ve been doing a few reviews for these buggers lately including the Aussie Classic Stone which has been re-released as a two dvd set and damn but that movie never grows stale. I still love it. Also watched London To Brighton a gritty English flick about pimps and street walkers and let me tell you it’s a fucking corker. See it. Check out the website, log on, get into the forums, spread the word… www.dvdholocaust.com

Z Gun – a yankee newsprint old school zine in a new world that had a great word up with Mike Doskocil about Drunks With Guns, has heaps of reviews for bands I’ll probably never hear cos I’m flat broke but has plenty of spirit, guts and leaves black ink on yr fingers. What more could you need in this new world of blogs and glossy personal zines and shite. I got mine from Big Star here in Adelaide which surprised the fuck out of me but then the world is getting’ smaller. www.zgun.org

JAZZ FROM HELL GOES AURAL

2008-06-22T00:06:00.000-07:00

DIENSBOTE - VARIATIONS ON A THEME is a joint collaboration between shitmagnet and the bearded hausfrau. Four tracks of electronic noise/jim jones jabbering/pissing in the river sent back and forth to be chopped/cropped and culled before being released on parole.

Available at Big Star Adelaide for $8 or direct from the sauce/source... Jazz From Hell po box 278 edwardstown sa 5039...

Big Star also has other choice Jazz From Hell products including A Beard Of Stars, ShitMagnet and Hausfrau... you could do worse and trust me, some of you have.

HARD BOILED SPOKEN WORD

2008-06-20T18:08:00.000-07:00

Hard boiled
Thurs June 26th
At La Boheme, 36 grote st adelaide
730 for an 8 start
Free, Open mic
Raffle with raffle prizes
the best reader gets the raffle money, so bring your friends to vote!

Come now dont be shy, cos the best readers of the year will go on a live cd!

The Grass ain't always greener

2008-06-04T18:30:00.000-07:00

You wake up

and look at her asleep

notice the lines under her eyes

the extra weight around the face

and you wonder if maybe

the grass is greener

somewhere else

but can you really imagine

that girl at the checkout

ever talking to you

in a bar

And anyway does she see the grey

in your hair

notice the slouch of yr shoulders

as you get up

trying not to breathe on her

because you know yr breath

smells of beer and cigarettes

and those mints you suck on

to try and hide the smell

of yr late night tipple

of green ginger wine

before bed

maybe she’s been wondering too

just how green that grass is

So you suck yr gut in

and offer her breakfast in bed

thinking as you walk to the kitchen

that maybe

you should spend some more time

at home

and cut down on the mints

Really Good In Theory

2008-05-27T18:58:00.001-07:00

This Saturday May 31st Really Good In Theory is back! A market day of local DIY zines, music, art and sundry fun plus second hand books, music, mags and more... a great day to mingle, buy, join in, meet folk and see what adelaide has to offer on the 'unprofessional' side of art. A badge i wear proudly. Paroxysm Press will be there will all his literary wares, Harry Butler with books, music and more from the DNA/EC Productions stable, Karl the perfect gentleman and many many more. It's at the Irish Club in Carrington Street in the city and kicks off at Noon. Read the poster and come along. its a cheap day out!

records you should own and love (or at least keep an eye out for)

2008-05-06T18:24:00.000-07:00

Nicodemus & Gravitar
It's an Idiot's life/ Barking at The Bagged Food LP
(Insignificant Records 1997)

Electric fucked up folk noize as the survivors of Haight Ashbury are confronted by the ghost of Jimi Hendrix being channeled thru a fucked up bikie dude with a metal plate in his head on a bad acid trip who's not so much speaking in tongues as swallowing it. Two side long jam sessions with a drummer who's listening to a different bad altogether. A major fucking victory for madness as a cure all. This may well induce voices in yr head but it will all make sense one day. Just don't go into any towers with a rifle.

top ten things that make it worthwhile

2008-04-20T23:04:00.000-07:00

Amateur boxing – went to a fight night recently with the kid to see some boys from back in the country in their first fights. Four boys made the journey up and three of them won, one of the boys even got fighter of the night. Watch out for the name Adam McLaren, if he keeps it up he’s gonna be something good. I’m more of a pro fan usually but this was good. So good in fact that I’ve volunteered my services as newsletter editor for SA Boxing. May as well do something with my time.

Psy/opsogist – Suffused With Static. Downloaded this from Psy/op’s site and its pretty damn neat. Slow, sliding seamless grooves, relaxed and chilled and perfect with an ice cold beer in a big frosty glass. He does the beats and moves for Solaris Earth Pipeline and he knows a lot about the muzak which makes for a great stew of sound and styles that come together so well and so relaxed. It ain’t frantic teenboy, lets impress the girls with my computerized glitch and homeboy rap, hell no, it’s a different beast altogether. Jazz licks and piano rolls, drum beats that just roll off yr speaker, this is just so cool even an old fart like me can dig it. www.myspace.com/psyopsogist

Etchings #4 – an Australian journal of words and pics. I went to the launch of #4 to look at the girls and drink but I also bought the mag (just for a change) Ryan O’Neill’s story Grieve made it all worthwhile. There were a couple of other good stories but that one struck a chord. Worth the money just for that. If you see it in yr bookshop (if there are any decent bookshops left) buy it.

Seven Inches To Freedom zine – no, not my autobiography but a really cool little zine out o’ Florida with a hardcore/punk vibe from a guy who considers himself old at 25!! Joe loves his music, that’s pretty damn obvious and he’s really laid down the words here with reviews, interviews and views on all that is punk or hardcore or whatever it is these days. I’ll admit I don’t know half/three quarter of the bands mentioned but that’s cos I am an old fart but there’s some great writing here in – especially the guide to dollar bin record buying and Diego’s piece on Mexico plus columns on music and lifestyle and the regular “my first record” stories that really made me feel old! A coupla bucks or trade to Joe Lachult 2163 Hoople St. Ft. Myers FL 33901 US of A will get you in the know. www.wtfhttrecords.com

Metal Scratches #9 has my story Cactus Killer in it and I have to admit, I love seeing a story in print, it just makes it all seem worthwhile and Metal Scratches always impresses me with the fiction they publish. Great stories and an obvious labour of love. www.metalscratches.com will get you all the details. Support them cos they obviously have good taste!

My mate Dann sent me a little parcel recently. Beezlebubby and I picked it up from the post office after school, wandered into the pub for a beer and a packet of chips as is our Friday arvo ritual and I opened the parcel to find a boxing glove inside. A name was scrawled on it but I wasn’t sure who’s. Then I read the note Dann had put in the parcel. The goddamn glove was signed by BERNARD HOPKINS! I screamed like a fangirl at her first FalloutBoy concert, Bernard fucking Hopkins, Bernard fucking Hopkins!! You couldn’t take the smile of my face. Beezle thought it was the funniest thing she’d seen for ages, her dad acting like such a fanboy. The whole night I walked around the house grinning from ear to ear and picking up the glove, showing it to beezlebubby and the Good Wife and saying “Bernard Hopkins signed this you know, Bernard fucking Hopkins.” If I was a woman I’d offer to have Dann’s babies.

Watching them Sturt Desert Peas as they stretch out across the neighbour’s driveway and continue to offer a blood red homage to life. Thinking about planting some myself out behind the shed maybe where its all weeds and rubbish right now anyway. Although that’s supposed to be for beezlebubby’s vegie patch but maybe along the side or something, just so I can step out there and look at them grow whenever things start to get to me.

Walking to the local shops the other day, sun shining, not a care in the world except maybe that I wasn’t doing any of the work I was supposed to, just walking to the shops to get a drink and some bread or something and I passed this house that always looks like he’s probably got a crop in the backyard… you know, high fence, growling dog, screen door with extra wire cos the damn dog keeps hitting it head first and busting the flyscreen, extra room being built on the back with gyprock that still ain’t painted despite the cracks already appearing (and all this on a suburban street) and then I hear it – T.Rex Electric Warrior album, crystal clear and clean and crisp and I can see thru the crack ‘tween the fence and gyprock addition that there’s a guy sitting back, beer in hand listening to this classic album and I damn near went to knock on his door but I’ve seen that damn dog hit the screen before so instead I just hang in the shadows listening to some Bolan boogie before I continue on my way to the shop but with a lighter step now and I grab some juice and food and slowly wander home, stopping again to hear more Bolan magic and soaking up the sun and just enjoying the moment before I go home slowly humming Jeepster to myself and smiling on the outside as well as the inside.

Zine Launch Party at La Boheme this past Thursday with the lads and ladesses from Analogue Apocalypse, Feminista & Corrupt Me zines plus my own splurge Sprak! … we sold a few zines, had a coupla beers, Mark Of The Beast played some spiffin’ punk rock (old and new) and I played some redneck lounge and it was a damn good time. Hell, what could be better than playing the music you would play at home anyway while sinking beers only with a better sound system?

Wrasslin time with Beezlebubby last weekend. EPW’s Deception was a night of good guys, bad guys and a late heel turn to get the fans screeching for more. We sat front row centre and got chatting to J-Rock’s family… and I found out he never lets them know what’s going to happen, which was pretty evident by the tear in his mum’s eye when he lost his bout against the new pretty boy Jimmy Scarlet. We always have a good nite at the wrasslin’ though Beezlebubby’s enthusiasm was waning early this time on account of too many school holiday late nights. Still, she made it to the end and picked the heel turn well before it happened! I didn’t. But then I’m not that bright.

Wham Glam continues...

2008-04-10T02:16:00.000-07:00

Top 10 4^th August 1975

1 Sweet Fox On The Run

2 Bay City Rollers Bye Bye Baby

3 Ray Burgess Fever

4 Suzi Quatro Paralysed

5 David Bowie Sorrow

6 Skyhooks Carlton (Lygon Street Limbo)

7 Pilot January

8 Jon English Turn The Page

9 Hush Bony Maronie

10 AC/DC Baby Please Don’t Go

The beginnings of a seemingly life long addiction with The Sweet. They would soon became my favourite band and along with my younger cousin Pete we would pour over magazine articles, tv appearances, record covers trying to find out everything we could about this band. AC/DC another sign of Greg and Kym’s ongoing influence. Suzi Q song was from Your Mama Won’t Like Me - an album I’ve always considered a ‘sleeper’. I’m sure I wouldn’t have had my own copy then but someone must have let me hear it. I did have a lot of taped copies of albums via older family friends. Now I think back I’m sure I had a taped copy of it. Hush was cracking it big time on Countdown and their flamboyancy and the fact they had two, count them, two Asian guitarists when Australia was still so racist and xenophobic made them stand out from the crowd. A very brave band that were never really given their dues. And they could actually write a decent song or two even though their biggest hit was a cover.

top ten time yet again

2008-03-27T18:44:00.000-07:00

That pesky top ten thing again

In my role as “boxing expert” for Aussie mag People over the last couple of months I’ve got to chat to Nader Hamden, Danny Green, Michael Katsidis and Jamie Pittman, all great fighters, all pretty decent blokes. For a tragic like me, even in my mature years, I still get fan boy excited and nervous before I talk to them and I can’t deny the buzz I get interviewing these guys. I love the sport of boxing, follow it pretty religiously, checking results, upcoming bouts, watching al lthe fights I can, hell, there’s been nights where I’ve stayed home to watch Friday night fights rather than going to the pub! So getting paid to talk to these guys is way beyond any expectations I ever had. Tough life this.

Getting two submissions accepted in two days. Brascoe Publishing and Covert Press have both taken some of my words and said yes to them. And I got a story into the next Metal Scratches as well. Slowly slowly catchee monkey. World domination inches closer!

Sitting on a balcony at a holiday house at Tiddy Widdy Beach (no I hadn’t heard of it either) drinking coffee, sucking in fresh air and relaxing. I spend too much time “in house” – I work from home, glued to this damn computer and when I’m not writing, researching, wasting time – I’m doing my house husband duties, you guessed it, at home. So I’m always there, work rest play. I weren’t doing anything different really in the holiday house (though there’s no computer) but it was good not to be at home.

And while I was on that balcony I read JT Leroy’s The Heart Is Deceitful above all things. One sitting, one afternoon and got sunburnt cos I didn’t move but damn it was worth it. Haven’t had time to sit and enjoy a book, soak up some words since… well, probably pre xmas maybe. Well, that’s not entirely true. I’ve been slowly working my way thru Steinbeck’s Tortilla Flats when time permits but its taken me three months to find the time to finish it but then it’s a book that should be read that way really, it just fits the theme. But this time it was one session, two or three coffees and I can’t put this book down type of stuff. The story of a boy and his mother and bad parenting and burgeoning sexuality and just how the family sins pass on down the line, religious mania, sexual dysfunction, hard wiring, fear hate and love and madness – shit, I don’t want to give anymore away. Read the damn thing, it’s good damn good.

Having a business lunch with the Publisher about the tenth anniversary anthology. Paroxysm Press is all the Publisher’s own work, thru graft, pain, cancer, near bankruptcy, alcohol abuse, domestic madness and bad hair days he’s kept the damn thing going and now it’s time for a celebration. So the tenth anniversary anthology is being meticulously planned and organized and the bastard even bought lunch for us, me and the dirty girl, as we nutted out deadlines and launch dates and the like. It’s come a long way from that nervous kid who came into my bookshop to ask if I knew any local writers all them years ago. ( and no, I didn’t pitch my own work to him, he came to me for that shit later on) He still talks too many words per second though, that ain’t nerves like I first thought, that’s just him.

Picking up Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys final recording sessions “For The Last Time” on vinyl – two record set with the booklet and boxed and in good nick for a redback. Great western swing with everyone giving their all while Bob sat back and apparently watched with pride. Illness had robbed him of his maneuverability but he threw a coupla hollers in there and guided the ship. He was still the boss man. That night he went home a happy man but had a stroke and sadly never recovered. But it was a hell of way to go. This music swings with pride, good ol’ boys having a time and partyin’ with the man who got em there in the first place. I can think of a lot worse ways to go out than seeing yr music live on like this. Great music and I’ll be lookin’ for more.

I did a zine fair a little while back and it was stinkin’ hot and we were in an old factory and who knew if it would work but damn it did. It was hot and it was sweaty but there was beer, some eyecandy and even a few zines worth a pinch o’ shit. Picked up the new Analog Apocalypse which improves with every issue. The fuckers even mentioned feedtime, possibly Australia’s greatest band. Not bad for a bunch o’ snot nosed kids with a thing for german chicks!

$100 and a t-shirt. I’d heard about this dvd doco about fanzines and lo and behold there it was sitting on a table surrounded by zines that I would never read by kids half my age. Got it cheap and yeah its not too bad. Though I still have trouble with this whole aint we cool attitude that zinesters have. You aint changing the world nerdbuckets you’re putting out a zine. Now I love zines, I been doing it for twenty years or something but I know it aint gonna change things or make me rich or anything. It just helps keep me sane is all. Not a bad doco though and I’ll probably watch it again before it gathers dust in a box in the shed.

Getting the new Sprak! done and sent out finally. I’ve had mail from December sitting here and I aint done shit about it cos I was planning a new issue and it just sorta took awhile but finally it did get done and its out there and no fucker ever drops me a line back anyway the slack shits (ok not technically true – two folk did email me) but hell I can remember with just a hint of nostalgia how I used to have a drawer full of mail everytime I sent out a zine. We’d write letters, trade zines and tapes and shit but now the best I can hope for is a quick email if I’m lucky. Oops this is supposed to be a top ten list not a bottom ten.

My mum left hook lu had a health scare recently but it turned out to be nothing and that’s a good way to finish this list, knowing that she’s healthy and happy and everything is just fine.

wham glam charts too

2008-03-12T21:22:00.000-07:00

Top 10 13^th July 1975

1 David Bowie Sorrow

2 Ray Burgess Touch Me

3 Jon English Turn The Page

4 Skyhooks Ego Is Not A Dirty Word

5 Suzi Quatro Savage Silk

6 Skyhooks Horror Movie

7 Status Quo Down Down

8 Pilot January

9 Beatles A Hard Days Night

10 BTO You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet

David still holding on to number one and the obvious influence of the Ripper compilation with Burgess, BTO, Status Quo and English storming the charts. My older and cooler cousins Greg and Kym were influencing me too hence more Skyhooks making the charts. Ego was one of the earliest albums I bought but not till the next year. Suzi Quatro was my first serious fanboy crush (but not the last) Beatles I blame on Carol Lawrence, she always had their tapes in her car. But she was also the person who introduced me to Black Sabbath Volume 4 so I wont hold The Beatles against her.

Top Ten Things that kept me going

2008-03-04T00:12:00.000-08:00

Dang, its been awhile but here goes –

GARLAND JEFFREYS – ESCAPE ARTIST album finally being reissued on CD! First came out in 1981 and I was 19 years old and engaged (or close enough to it) and I had to drive a 100k round trip every weekend to see my girl so I was buying a lot of tapes to play in the car (or cars since I managed to go through a few back then, none costing more’n $300) and I knew who Jeffreys was cos of that killer song Wild In The Streets and I musta heard modern lovers or something on the radio though I cant imagine where down there, maybe one of those late nights when I’d tune in the radio to stations all over the fucking country that would be faintly playing and cross hatching on the big old radiogram that mum and dad had… but anyway I bought it on cassette and I flogged that baby to death – like Jeffreys himself it was a mulatto mix of styles and cultures and pop and reggae and bluesy jazz licks and even though I was a dumb country hick I could dig the world he was travelling in (or at least wished I could). Took me years to find a vinyl copy, (with the bonus ep intact) the tape having pretty much given up the ghost and I’d pretty well figured the cd would never turn up but damn here we are, 2008 and I’ve got this baby in my hands and it’s got the bonus tracks from the ep and a coupla more besides and I’ve been playing it daily for the last three/four weeks and its still as good as I remember, even if I’m no longer cruising the backroads with it turned up loud, blueballed and stinky fingered…

PLANET ALI – GLENN W COOPER. Chapbook of pomes by Qld boy Glen W Cooper about the greatest Muhammad Ali. Stumbled on a listing of this while looking at something else altogether (ok ok it was a poetry site, don’t tell anyone ok?) and then I did a quick search and lo and behold, the fucker had a myspace site! This is a great set of pomes about Ali the man and Ali the legend… what he meant to a whole generation of us as a boxer and a man. Forget the saintly image they try and push on us now – he was a fighter, a boxer, he hit people, he hurt them and in the end he got hurt back… great set of words, great writer… check him out.

BIXOBAL #2 – a neat little zine I stumbled across that comes out of Seattle and has an editor who knows the right people. People like Sir Richard Bishop, Climax Golden Twins, Jesse Paul Miller… a great read with reviews of a hunk o’ obscure music I’ll now be searching for, travel stories from Sir Richard, Uncle Jim’s diatribe against lazy ass rekkid reviewers, the thrill of collecting “bad” records… its good to see a print zine again instead of just words on this infernal contraption. That said, the easiest way to track this fucker down is at the website

www.ribexibalba.com Eric also put out a great Sun City Girls Lp last year that I was lucky enough to get hold of (though not the super special edition)… he knows his stuff.

Getting more work at People mag (for you USA folk it aint nothing like yr mag) and becoming the “official” boxing expert though I still prefer boxing tragic. Which means I’m getting to voice my opinion on upcoming blues, interviewing the odd boxer (Nader Hamdan, Michael Katsidis, Jamie Pittman…) and now I don’t feel so guilty spending all my time watching the fights on tv or reading websites or blogs or just being so anal about it all. Hell, its my job!

GEORGE JONES – I LOVE COUNTRY – a cheapy CD I borrowed from my mum left hook last time I was down home and its turned out to be a goody. Featurin’ a lot of his early hits, a good slap o’ honky tonkin’ and none of that “re-recorded by the original artist or someone who was once in the band for a week” guff. Damn straight he’s a good old boy and was a bit of a pisshead to boot!

Adelaide Fringe festival is on and that means the ZINE FAIR is happening again soon. Went to the opening night/welcome the other week. 40 degrees celcius in the shade but there was free beer so myself and Karl the perfect gentleman indulged in some beers and some watermelon and pretended like we really did give a hoot about these kids and their “alternative” culture but come on, I been doing zines for twenty years now… some of these kids were still smearing shit on the walls at that stage (and for some of them nothin’s changed) Still, it was free beer, Karl gave me a lift home and with the zine fair just a coupla weeks away it gives me the push to actually finish something. Then stand around in an old factory with the publisher, the perfect gentleman and harry the grump drinking beer and perving at fine young things. Hell of a way to spend a Saturday arvo!

PAROXYSM PRESS BOOK LAUNCH of Cloak & Grist happened a coupla weeks back and Shane and Hop came over form Melburg to launch it and we had a feed before hand and lots of beer before during and after and some friends came out of their caves and it was sweet. Of course I lost the Melburg boys on the way to the next pub but that’s ok. It was a fine evening, good words, beer, friends – that’s what this whole thing is supposed to be about after all.

Seeing young ANT recently. He’s come along leaps and bounds since his birth and between he and young JONES it’s an interesting time being the old hand at all this stuff and watching Mike, Roosh, Dann & Helen doting on their kiddlings. If only they knew that one day they’d be teenage monsters! Mike is now the stay at home dad too and apparently he’s loving it. Christ, I wish I could get back that joy instead of being the grumpy old fart that seems to be nagging beezlebubby all the time to clean up, shut up or get up! Of course it aint all that bad its just I tend to forget the good bits and just remember the ten minutes of arguing… and that’s always been my problem!

SOUTHERN ROCK REVIEW a great little book by Martin Popoff with reviews on a kegload of Southern Boy Rock and a cd to boot and the guy likes his music and it shows in his reviews and I’m flickin’ thru it makin’ little notes of what I should be searchin’ for when I’m out at the bootsales and secondhand shops. And the fucker has got a thing for ZZ Top and you can’t argue with that now can you?

LEGEND OF CHUPACABRA a dumb ass, slow as fuck mockumentary monster movie that for some reason I really enjoyed. Monster suits and handheld cameras and old school prosthetics and its dumber than a midget superbowl but I really enjoyed it. Its good to occasionally stumble onto these unknown flix and just enjoy them without trying to be smarmy and know it all critic… but I’m betting everyone else will be saying it sucked. Fuck em what do they know anyway?

Wham Glam Thank You Ma'am

2008-02-21T23:37:00.000-08:00

Searching thru the shed the other day (as is my want since all my unworldly possessions ie cassettes, old mags, shit I no longer need but can’t throw away, lurk in there) I came across a dozen hand written pages of a much younger Kami. A Kami that didn’t actually exist yet, instead it was an 11 year old Cammy who was making his own Top 10 lists of songs! Starting from 30^th June 1975 and winding down 10^th December 1978 I kept an unofficial, very tardy, pointless and nerdy list of my fave songs at the time. Some of it is incredibly embarrassing… some of it is just funny but looking over it all now I can also trace my musical roots, almost pinpoint when certain artists, songs and albums entered my psyche.

So, having nothing else to do I think I might inflict the charts on you year by year. (with the odd biographical note) - kami

Let’s start at the beginning.

Top 10 30^th June 1975. (11 ½ years old)

1 David Bowie Sorrow

2 Beatles Twist And Shout

3 Skyhooks Ego Is Not A Dirty Word

4 Elvis Presley Jailhouse Rock

5 Suzi Quatro 48 Crash

6 Pilot January

7 Elton John Crocodile Rock

8 Garry Glitter Do You Wanna Touch

9 Alvin Stardust Coo Ca Choo

10 Wizzard See My Baby Jive

I can remember going on a Sunday drive with my parents to Mt Gambier to visit relatives and the local AM station 5SE was having a ‘battle of the bands’ all day – playing song vs song with people ringing in to vote on them. (no internet, no sms you had to get off yer arse and go to a telephone) Bowie’s “Sorrow” eventually won. It was a song I’d never heard before but after hearing it most of the day as we drove around I fell in love with it. That’s about when I decided to do the charts. Hey I was a geekboy. 1975 was the middle of the Glam Era too so of course Gazza and Alvin and Wizzard were top of the charts (and on all the compilations) Elvis and Beatles reflect my parents influence, especially Elvis- my mum loved him (still does). Skyhooks were, interestingly enough, the only Aussie band at that stage. I think we still had the faulty b&w telly that mum had picked up from the pub she worked at that couldn’t pick up the ABC so I couldn’t watch Countdown. I had to rely on the radio (which was still good back then) and friends. I had received a cassette recorder the previous year I think for Xmas along with Suzi’s Can The Can album and Gazza’s Touch Me Album.

first top ten for the new year

2008-01-15T15:35:00.001-08:00

Top 10 things that kept me sane

Them sturt desert peas the neighbour planted are coming on strong, despite the water restrictions we’re going through right now. And its good to see them too especially today my father’s birthday when he would have been a grand old age of 72 if not for the big C. (and my own hand in his death even if it was his request) I’m always in a foul mood coming up to this day, usually subliminally and I don’t even realise it until I look at the calendar and go “oh yeah, that’s why I’m so shitty.” But passing that yard and seeing the brilliant red of the desert peas has calmed me some this year. It’ll be a long time before I can let go of this but ten years on and I’m slowly maybe making progress.

Beezlebubby has been doing swimming lessons these holidays and her progress is something to behold. 6 laps of the pool without a problem, complete strangers complimenting her breast stroke, she’s got a talent there. Which is good cos her old man can’t swim a lick! I think this is the last year for her, lessons wise, she’s good enough to be able to swim without us worrying and she just wants to have fun now in the pool not be doing no damn lessons. But I’ve enjoyed sitting back in the shade listening to Prolo while she’s been practicing her diving and freestyle so it’s been a good summer all round.

You know sometimes you write something that you consider a knock off, a bit of practice while you get some words strung together and lo and behold, everybody likes the damn thing. Well, I wrote a pome called “Suburban Death and a kilo of sausages” and bugger me if it isn’t going to be Albatross Magazine’s poem of the month! You’ve got to be happy with that. If I can work it out there’ll be a link just here… but most probably being the technophobe I am, there won’t.

http://www.myspace.com/albatrossmagazine

The local scout group has a regular garage sale where there’s lots of books, broken furniture, stereos that don’t work anymore, cups and saucers, old toys and exercise machines but also occasionally records. Last weekend I picked up 6 lps for a buck twenty total! Skyhooks Greatest Hits, Roger Daltry and a handful of compilations from the seventies including one I’ve never seen before – Dance, Sing or Anything featuring The Faces, Isley Bros, BTO, Johnny Wakelin, Golden Earring… I love them sales.

MamaCita – a damn fine poetess who I stumbled upon recently… great and strong work, heavy on the visuals and visceral. She has the words and knows how to use them and christ is she busy! Words, collages, toys and parenthood. Check the site, you will not be disappointed.

http://www.myspace.com/mistivelvet

Repo Man soundtrack on vinyl for a blue note. Yep, Big Star delivers again with this great album which I only ever had on a dubbed cassette. Used to play this when I rode my pushbike to work up in Darwin. The Fear track used to get me cycling so fast that my legs would ache. Always got me to work on time despite the hangovers and the heat.

HB had a big book sale at the start of January and I worked with him for the day. It was over 40 degrees and during holidays but he still got a good turn out for his first sale, made a profit and it looks like he’ll do it all again. I picked up Meltzer’s Aesthetics Of Rock (original pressing for you nerds) plus a coupla other titles and it was good to see one of HB’s ideas come to fruition and work. He’s had a hard time of it, a lot of his own doing but also a lot just plain bad luck. He’s a pessimist by nature but maybe this will turn old grumpy around. Oh yeah, and I got paid which helped me out too.

Receiving a copy fo Suzi Quatro’s biography in the mail from my good mates at Unbelievably Bad. New Ish on the way soon (plug plug). Now just gotta find the time to read the book.

Starting a new blog about redneck lounging called, strangely enough The Redneck Lounge. http://rednecklounging.blogspot.com/ it’s just somewhere else to spread the word about the life of a lounger.

Watching the Bettie Page Collection. Damn but she was a fine looking filly wasn’t she? Don’t know about a five disc set though… the thrill of burlesque and shiny undies wears off after awhile but heck, it’s a nice way to spend these hot evenings… drinking beer and watching Bettie.

top ten things that made the time pass by

2007-12-20T21:20:00.000-08:00

Top ten things that made the time pass by

1. With Christmas and its inherent festivities there have been quite a few occasions recently where the goodwife and I have had to “frock up” and I’ve had to be on my best behaviour. Now I don’t usually wear collars let alone a bag of fruit but just for these events I do, for the good wife if for no one else. And I don’t scrub up too bad even if I do say so myself, though it’s not something I plan to get used to. The goodwife though, well she puts a lot of effort and thought into her clobber for these events and it shows. At the SA Great awards on Kangaroo Island she looked…well… drop dead gorgeous is the only way to describe it. In fact as she stood at the podium to award a prize a woman at our table leant over and said to me, “She’s beautiful.” And since I’d sat there staring in awe at her all I could do was just nod my head in agreement. That night (and two or three more since) I could truthfully say, “you were the best looking woman in the whole place.” and mean it. She is beautiful and I’m damned if I know how I got this girl in the first place or why she is still with me twenty years later. I’ve given her plenty of reasons to get rid of me but she hasn’t yet. And I don’t have money or good looks and no, that’s pretty average size too (ok maybe a little more than average) so I honestly don’t know what she’s doing with me but I’m not going to question it either. There ain’t much better than watching her walk into a room, watching men turn to look at her and then I wander in and they just go “Huh?”

2. Beezlebubby and I attended another EPW wrestling card this past month – it’s been twelve months since the first show and we’ve been to every one. It’s our night out together, beer, chips, wrasslin’, cheering and I don’t have a bad time either! It was a stinking hot night in an unventilated hall but we had a ball despite all that. Sure some of the wrestlers struggled with the heat and sweat but the final bout with Jag going thru 4 tables from atop a ladder more than made up for the sweat and stink. Damn but these guys get the crap beaten out of them for very little money but we love it. Slater, Cooper, Jag, Havoc … and all the others – I doff my cap to you and I look forward to seeing what next year brings. I only hope that beezlebubby sticks with the wrestling a little longer so we can still have these nights. She’s at that age where appearance is starting to be important and I’d hate her to bow out just because its not cool to be at a sweaty stinky wrasslin show when you could be on the phone for hours with yr friends gossiping. Of course, as long as Robbie Hart, Damien Slater and Jayson Cooper keep taking their shirts off she will probably still want to come along even when it isn’t fun anymore!

3. Neighbours a few doors up have planted Sturt Desert Peas in their front garden. When my father died, his niece brought a foam esky full of Sturt Desert Peas all the way from Broken Hill down to Millicent so we could each drop one on his coffin as it was lowered into that shitty, muddy but well fertilized soil. That ain’t a short trip either buddy, that’s a damn long haul but they arrived fresh and blood red and one by one we shuffled past and dropped them down to say goodbye to him. I haven’t seen one since so each day as I walk past my neighbour’s I check that they’re still growing and nod, thinking how the old boy would have thought it kinda strange to see them growing in Adelaide in some suburban garden. I’d like to knock on the door and thank the neighbours for planting them but they would probably think it kinda strange so I might just leave it for now. It’s not an easy thing to explain anyhow and I probably already seem weird to the people around here since I don’t have any visible means of support (except when I lean on the wall as I struggle to find the keys to get in late at night) I play weird music all day and the house is always full of preteen girls, squealing and playing.

(I’ve still got that foam esky too. It was a damn KFC giveaway, I should probably put the fucker on ebay but I’m saving it so that one day I can have someone do the same for me. Only it’ll be pine cones and pine needles for this country boy)

4. The Publisher and his “that girl is much better than you deserve” girlfriend threw a big housewarming/birthday party pissup a coupla weeks back and it was a pretty damn fine affair. The couples with kids came early in the night, the barbecued dead animal tasted good, the beer flowed, the conversation was good and then as the party was waning and the couples and kids leaving, the work crew arrived from their xmas show and the party kicked on again. Lots of lubrication, fine young things, conversation and cleavage – hell I was even told how wonderful I was (or at least that prick of a poet Kami was told that) the “that girl is much better than you deserve” girlfriend went to bed with a bucket nearby (tequila will do that to some) but the party continued with the hardy few hanging on until the publisher fell asleep in his deckchair at 5am and it was time to go. I worked out the next day that this old man was the first to arrive, one of the last to leave and I’d managed a good ten to twelve cans o’ beer, tequila shots and a bottle of bourbon and was still standing (or at least sitting). So practice does make perfect after all.

5. The thing about myspace is all the “friends” you pick up but have never talked to, heard of, cared about. Initially I joined myspace just so I could stay in contact with David Rat, poet, musician & friend but soon there were stacks of ‘friend requests’ and faces and images and words and “Christ how much shit can these people spread and why don’t these people have jobs” type crud to make me wonder about the whole deal. Lately though I’ve discovered that amidst all the scams and blunders and timewasting dipshits are some gems. Being a writer and poet I keep getting invites to some real lamo blogs and groups but lately the wheat and chaff have been separating nicely and there are some motherfuckers out there that are almost as good as me. Kaplowitz for one! Christ on a crutch but this fucker can nail the words so damn precisely and perfectly and say everything that needs to be said and still have time to look after a two year old.
There’s a couple of others that show some heat and fire but no one is as consistent as this fucker, no one. One day I’m gonna find the money to actually get to that shitty rock on the other side of the world and the first two people I’ll be raising a beer with (the devil willing) will be Rat and Kaplowitz. The rest of you have a lot of catching up to do.

6. At the shopping centre/money sucker/brain destroyer this week I saw a couple of teenage girls mucking about with a wheelchair. Thing was, the able bodied chick was in the chair and the one legged girl was hopping along behind pushing the damn thing! And pegleg was trying to keep her short skirt down whilst hopping. Funniest and coolest thing I’ve seen for a long time. It ain’t ever easy being a teenager but imagine trying to be a teenager amputee. This girl didn’t give a rats arse – she wasn’t hiding her ‘disability’ – hell, she was hopping around outside the bus stop shaking her arse and making as much noise as any of the little jereks that hang around the shops cos they got fuck all else to do. And the skirt was far too short which made me wonder, when she’s sitting in the wheel chair how did she keep her lunch, dinner and tea hidden? Cos while she was hopping and pushing the chair the whole menu was out there for your perusal. Just another loud teenage girly trying to be noticed by the boys. You gotta love it.

7. Beezlebubby has noticed that I have a myspace site and a blog or two and I’m always on the net so she wanted her own blog. Well, she’s got one now, Fuzzylamaduck but she’s not actually sure what she’s going to do with it. Still, it was fun to sit with her and nut out the basics – name, layout, ideas… of course, now I’m gonna have to keep an eye on it cos who the fuck knows what evil lurks out there in cyberdick world but I’m hopin’ she can use it like a journal or summat and get her thoughts down. She’s a creative little bugger but like her dad, she has absolutely no patience and wants it all to be perfect first time. I’m hoping this is a step into design and words and all the cool shit like that rather than just the mindless, aimless, disposable world she’s being bombarded with all the time.

8. I survived yet another year on this planet and to celebrate/commiserate went and saw the Back Seat Romeos and the Dead Popes Of The Vatican play at Enigma last weekend. There was a good crowd of friends, fiends and some nice eye candy (thanks to that poet again), I had my brand new SEP tshirt to wear,the bands were seriously “on” and I had a ball. Well, the bits I remember were good. Unfortunately as usual I overstayed my welcome and the last couple of hours are gone except for the bruises on my leg and the lump on my head. Ah well, that is what birthdays are for after all.

9. The SEP t-shirt came along with a stack o’ cdr’s and a couple back issues of confederate mack from Psy/opsogist at Solaris Earth Pipeline. I don’t think I’m gonna be able to keep these guys secret much longer. I remember telling a coupla folk that night to check out the sight and download the album. I hope they take my advice. I like a lot of music, some good, some bad and trashy, some great. SEP are in the great pile. Redneck hiphop philosophical lounging is the easiest way to describe them I guess (ok maybe not but they don’t fit into any boxes and that’s what I like) but what should be remembered is that Raven Mack may just be a mad fool redneck with a messiah complex but we shouldn’t forget about the beats behind him cos Psy/opsogist has really got some serious music happenin’ behind it all. He knows his stuff and he obviously loves his music. When I get time to sit back, suck down some beer and give this stuff the attention it truly deserves I might be able to tell you more but until then you should just check it out yrself you lazy fuckers. I ain’t gonna be here for ever to point you in the right direction!

10. Those blessed Marion markets once again provided me with jewels to behold. This week it were DVDs. Three in fact, all crappy Eurotrash, uncut and ready for some late night brews. Panic Beats by Paul Naschy, Jess Franco’s Bloody Judge (starring Christopher Lee!) and Lucio Fulci’s Voices From Beyond. Sure, they’ll all no doubt be badly dubbed, poorly acted and entirely unbelievable – what’s yr point? I don’t care for a grade movies anymore, I don’t want Hollywood computer generated heroes and monsters – I want the old fashioned pump the blood through the back of the shirt gore, latex and imagination – and this shit is as good a place to start as any. And anyway, I was hungover, it was hot and they cost me 14 bux all up so hell, why not buy ‘em?

top ten time

2007-11-27T18:25:00.000-08:00

Top 10 stuff that makes it worthwhile

Beezlebubby telling me she loves me as I tuck her into bed despite me being a grumpy prick all day who snaps at every wrong word and nags her like an old woman. Of course she might just be hedging her bets for xmas but I’ll take it as truth not manipulation. She loves her dad despite his lousy parenting skills.

Interviewing boxer Danny Green and finding out he really is just an aussie bloke – loves his family, likes his beer and loves a blue. Hell, I can’t argue with those principals. Lets hope he can bring home the world title. He can do it but only if he’s one hundred percent committed for twelve rounds. I know I’ll be glued to the bigscreen tv watching with a beer in hand and shouting advice.

Hitting the brews with Karl the perfect gentleman at a gig at Urtext. The music that night left something to be desired but the night was good anyway and I woke up with a dvd and two cdr’s in my pocket so hell I can’t complain. But the gentleman and I both had shocking hangovers.

Snakebeings. A weird arse pom now living in NZ who produces twisted little fillums that crack my cranium. Check his website – www.snakebeings.co.nz well, worth a look… there’s still so much bubbling under that we never see. Its all pot luck and being in the right place at the right time. Snakebeings appeared at the Urtext gig showing his films and gave me a dvd and cdr cos I just didn’t have enough money left. Hell, I’d borrowed money from the goodwife to get to the gig but he didn’t seem to mind. Great stuff, check it out. I know I’ll be buying more from him once the coffers build up again.

Boxing Manager computer game. Downloaded this baby after seeing the ad in Boxing Weekly. Highly addictive game for us boxing tragics. Its not a playstation type game where you control a boxer, instead you manage a stable, choose yr boxers, choose their training regime and pick their fights for them. You can even choose boxing styles during the bouts. Highly bloody addictive and I’ve got numerous undisputed world champions in my stable now! Christ, I’m a geek sometimes but damn it’s fun…

Finally finishing the manuscript for Fists Of Love and entering it into the Wakefield Press unpublished manuscript awards. Don’t know how it will go but hell, at least its out there. And if I do so say myself it aint a half bad story.

Kid Rock – sure he’s a dumb shit hiphop white trash wannabe but c’mon he’s a short arse southern boy who’s banged Pammy Anderson and Paris Hilton, he’s recorded with Hank Jr, and Gretchen Wilson, he has hit singles, he tours, he gets drunk – fuck, isn’t he living the dream of every redneck boy? He aint denying his whitetrash roots and now he’s getting’ some whitetrash roots – hell, I’m on his side!

Sakio Bika winning The Contender’s third series in a brutal brawl that will go down as one of the fights of the year. I interviewed Sakio at the start of the series and all he wanted to do was succeed and be able to give his family a stable life and a house they could call their own. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer bloke. Danny Green couldn’t have put it better when I mentioned the win to him. “Wasn’t that fucking fantastic?” and it was.

Hooking up with DVD Holocaust to review dvds. All these years of watching trashy horror and puttin’ out old skool zines are starting to pay off. If I can get this lifestyle worked out I can just do the stuff I like and survive. Reviewing pubs, talking to boxers, reviewing movies… damn near got it all now.

Winning first place and fifty bucks at the 2007 Friendly Street Poetry Slam. Of course there were fuck all participants but the cream was there and I rose to the top this time (like curdled milk) and the readings themselves were good (if I do say so myself) so hell, I’ll take the victory. The same night I then went and reviewed two pubs for Ralph so all in all it was a profitable evening. And I found a bar with over 130 rums in stock – Bar Cuba. Damn, I’ll be going back there.

top ten again

2007-10-26T21:05:00.000-07:00

Top 10 again

Solaris Earth Pipeline – all that glitters aint gold. The man of a thousand aliases raven mack and his boy psy/opsologist doing something close to rap but really in their own little world of rednecking/sampling/talking about life and all its foibles with some great and just damn right riffs running behind and you can download it from their myspace site! (it’s the first damn time I’ve ever managed to work out how to do that) and I’m becoming a bit of a mark for the mack – telling everyone who will or wont listen to check him out. It’s weird cos on the one hand I don’t want to share this shit, I want to keep it to myself like a little secret cult or something but on t’other I want everyone to hear this stuff and go ‘fuck yeah!’ like I did.

Sunday markets at Marion, going through a suitcase full of old 45s and finding two singles that I’ve been looking for for like thirty years! See there was this guy I saw on countdown singing in 1975 and I didn’t know his name or anything just the song “Canberra we’re watching you” and then he did “checkmate on love” - I asked all my nerdy music friends and nobody but nobody knew nothing about it… and then I’m flicking thru this box o’ records and there it was Dalvanius and the Fascinations!!! Two singles and they cost me a buck twenty five each and they were worth every cent. A funky soulful kinda style I had assumed he was American being a big black guy with the back up singers and the soul sound but nope he was a kiwi and then I got on the web and discovered that Dalvanius Prime was big back in kiwi land and had only recently passed away and fuck why didn’t anyone know who the hell he was?! This is the kind of stuff that makes the search worthwhile now I’m after a song called “Shotdown in Denver” by some perth band same era – anyone help me out here? Or do I gotta wait another thirty years?

Its looking like a musical top ten this week! DRUNKS WITH GUNS!! First two singles sitting in a pile of second hand stuff that was waiting to go on the shelf at Big Star the place I used to work at until I got sick of selling wolfmother and Bernard fucking fanning but I still do the odd job or two or at least call in and see what’s going on and there they were. The real deal, the first two singles and now I gotta work them off cos I damn near came in my pants when I saw the records so now the boss knows they must be worth a few bucks so yeah, I’m gonna have to go in and do something to pay them off but shit yeah it’ll be worth every minute. And yeah it is kinda anal since the songs are on the album anyway but fuck it we’re talking drunks with guns the greatest fucking rock slab o’ snot you’ve ever (not) heard. I had to have the records I just had to.

Beer swill romanticism – new literary zine by the kid who’s just so full of enthusiasm and drive that he makes us go “yeah lets do it” and we get off our jaded arses and do some work too. Great little mag full of some half decent words and the launch was last Thursday at this cool little club/bar called La Boheme and we did some readings and there was a good crowd and some damn fine eye candy then we got drunk and then we did it again the next night to launch the latest little spoken word cd from Paroxysm Press… actually I better make that number five…

Radio demo #2 – kerryn, me and the publisher reading some stuff we did wayback for a slam in Melbourne but the quality was damn good, the readings were spot on and what the hell we wanted something new for people to hear so we launched it at kerryn’s birthday bash and we got drunk again and now my head hurts and I really need a drink but nope, I ain’t gonna. But the cd is top notch and the publisher is now looking at next year when paroxysm turns ten!! Yeah we been doing this shit for a decade now! Fuck, I thought I was old and jaded when publisher first walked into my shop and started asking about local writers and I was thinking “who is this fucker?” and now ten years later I still think it but I’m kinda proud of the way its gone and that its still going and that publisher still wants me involved even cos hell I woulda told me to fuck off a long time ago. But its this sorta shit that makes it worthwhile, we aint getting any money from it but we are gaining some slow recognition and you know what… this is what we do and that’s all that matters…

EPW wrestling night a coupla weeks back with beezlebubby. She took her title belt along and waved it in the air and we were two rows back from the ring so we’re close enough to see and hear it all and next month is their first year anniversary and we both went “wow we been doing this for a year now?!” Its our bonding thing, no matter how shitty the day might have been (and there’s been a couple where we damn near didn’t make it to the wrassling) as soon as we walk in the door we just smile and go yep this is it. And we know who the good guys and bad guys are and there’s a coupla faces in the crowd we know and the lollies and beer are just behind us and we have a good time. And this time they got us good with a late heel turn that nobody saw coming and now we gotta go next month to find out just what the hell is going on! and that day we saw two of the wrasslers walking in the mall in town but we didn’t want to talk to them cos it woulda ruined the whole thing. They were badguys so you don’t want to say hi and find out they’re actually nice guys do ya? That’d fuck the whole game up.

Tent Boxing by Wayne McLennan – a great little book by this guy travelling with a boxing tent as they do the circuit. Not just about boxing, it’s a book about the lives of the carny crowd, the aboriginal fighters, the last frontier type stuff where you do what you gotta do to survive cos its in your blood and there’s pride and fear and respect and all those things and its written damn well and it’s the real deal and you find yourself wondering what happened to this guy or that guy and wanting to know more and just wishing the book, the travel, the adventure had kept going but you know it couldn’t but its that kinda book. Find it and read it and learn something.

Writing three new pomes– a burst of inspiration and embracing my redneckin’ white trash childhood which I’d never really turned my back on just kinda grown out of (though there’d be plenty of folk who would debate that) so I got a little set of redneck lounging type pomes and they seemed to go over okay so who knows maybe there’ll be some more. Depends how comfortable I get I guess but shoot I am a whitetrash boy from the wrong side of the tracks its just that the goodwife has tamed me a little and taught me how to dress better. or at least to wash my hands more often.

Yellow polo shirt with Millicent country music association logo on front and back – cost me three bucks at Lifeline and I wear it with pride. Anyone can get an acdc shirt or a nirvana pic but how many of these you seen at the pub? Just another good ol boy come to the bigsmoke and staring in awe at all the pretty ladies and the bright lights.

Getting a highly commended for my story the ballad of pissboy from the bundaberg arts festival. That’s the second commendation pissboy has earned so it must be an okay story. Its always good to find out that just maybe you are on the right track and that the light at the end isn’t an oncoming train.

YOU KNOW YOU’RE A PISSHEAD WHEN…

2007-10-10T17:28:00.000-07:00

You’ve apologised to people you don’t remember meeting for things you don’t remember doing in places you don’t remember going to.

You’re shocked to discover that they actually sell coke without Jim Beam

Your idea of karaoke is falling off the stage as you shout “Rock and Roll!” into the microphone.

You don’t recognise your best mate unless he’s leaning against a bar. Holding a beer. Drunk.

Your entire life’s savings would just about buy you a slab of VB and a bottle of cheap bourbon. And you’re excited by the idea.

You woke up one morning feeling strange, then realised you didn’t have a hangover.

You wear Hawaiian shirts because its tougher to spot the vomit stains on them.

You don’t mind your girlfriend discovering you smashed in a bar on a Sunday arvo when you’re supposed to be shopping with her because now you can hit her up for a drink.

top ten highlights for the week

2007-10-07T17:17:00.000-07:00

1) Interviewing Boxer Sakio Bika about his role on The Contender show for People magazine. I’m a boxing tragic and have cancelled nights out just to sit and watch Friday Night Fights so this last month has been (an athiest’s) heaven. Interviewing former world champ Lester Ellis last month and now Bika. Years ago I talked to Jamie Wallace who went on to win an Aussie title (now there was a bloke who deserved the “I coulda been a contender” moniker – always took fights on short notice always made the other guy work for his win and then finally got his shot at a title and took it) and Kali Meehan who fought on the big stage in America but fell short, even made pals with Amateur Boxing Legend Joe Bridges so the other night I introduced myself to the good wife as “Campbell McInnes – sports writer” and she didn’t laugh (well not too hard)

2) Being asked to pen liner notes for an upcoming reissue of Loaded Dice’s classic album No Sweat. Loaded Dice were a sweaty power pop/pub rock band from Perth late 70s/early 80s that I’ve always thought were vastly underrated and damn good fun. They only ever did the one album and I’d long given up hope of them being rediscovered but they have been and now everyone will have the chance to revel in the glory of lyrics like …”baby baby got a good thing going, dress so high your slip is showing…” and “these pants they don’t fit, fact is they hurt a bit but they’re gonna get me in the mood…” all with killer pop riffs and a nod to the best sixties sensibilities. Don’t worry when its released I’ll make sure you all know about it! Hell, I might even get myself back on the radio just to flog the damn thing some more! (must get around to doing that long delayed tribute album too)

3) Kicking the footy in the backyard with beezlebubby. Apparently they’ve been having a kick at school and she wanted to practise some more. Fine by me, sunny days, kicking a size 3 sherrin across the lawn as she tells me about her day and her friends and counts just how many times she can mark in a row or kick straight. Interesting too that she tells me all the boys feel the need to chest mark but the girls tend to put their hands out and mark the ball and they don’t understand why the fellas have to hug the ball. Is it the girls protecting their budding chests or the boys trying to beat their chests in that macho ain’t I a man fashion? Or maybe its just simply the boys being coached that way or maybe seeing their heroes on telly doing it… I’m sure one day there will be a report on it (funded by us) by some poncey professor who’s never kicked a footy in his life but has a lot of initials after his name and chronic asthma.

4) Being given a Mt Burr football blazer by Joan Lawrence that belonged to her late husband Ray – one of the three musketeers, my dad and his mate Ces Leibhardt being the other two. There aren’t too many of these blazers about, they were specially made back in the day and its an incredible honour to be trusted with it. I’m seriously thinking of getting it framed because I don’t want to ruin it or lose it. I was a pallbearer at Ray’s funeral (he was the last of the musketeers by then) and I felt proud to be part of a strong and close knit community that day. Its one thing I feel lacks in Beezlebubby’s world because the city just doesn’t seem to have or create those bonds. That’s why I take her home so much.

5) Yellow Dog – Little Gods 45. I found the Yellow Dog album the other day and gave it to Nigel ‘Home For The Def’ Koop after he told me he’d hunted down the Fox single Single Bed because I mentioned it in my zine Wham Glam. Its kinda nice to know occasionally that someone does read yr shit and even act on it. Yellow Dog was an offshoot of Fox (both trashy pommy pop outfits from the mid 70s) and I’d mentioned them to Nigel but he hadn’t managed to track anything down. After I gave him the lp I came home and played this single, their finest moment and unfortunately for Nigel not on the album. I guess he’ll have to hunt that down for himself ‘cos I’m not parting with it! Its too dang good. (weirdly enough though on the day I gave him the album I saw another copy second hand! Two copies within a week, very odd – so maybe the single is out there too)

6) My mum (Left Hook Lu) and her eightball team making the grand final again second year running. They won last year but the comp is a bit tougher this time around. Always underestimated, mum’s team of “girls” (and I use the term loosely), just play for the fun of it, the social night, though of course they like to win too. They just keep a steady pace, win a few, lose a few but if they make it into the finals, look out. Once again they’ve snuck under everyone’s guard and all of a sudden they are there once again facing their arch enemies (who were once playing for the same pub but got the sooks up and took their cues and went off to another pub.) The strange thing (at least for me) is that anyone could underestimate my mother. Christ, there are trophies all over the bloody house, she’s been playing the game for ever, she once beat snooker legend Eddie Charlton and yet they all treat her with disdain and seem shocked when she wins. Be it on their own heads, Left Hook and the girls will have fun win or lose and that’s the difference.

7) Catching up with my old school mate Ganders this week while i’m back home in the country. I’ve known Ganders since the first day of primary school and that’s a damn long time. The first thing he says is you should see the medal. His boy Max was in the Mossies under 18s premiership team and damn the old fart is proud. Might have something to do with the fact that neither me nor Ganders could play footy for shit and we’re both living vicariously thru Max. But then the boy himself is pretty proud of it too. City folk don’t realize just how much sports means to a country town, it can really lift the whole community when the kids do well. And its not for nothing that we are known as “Zooeys” by all the other teams – we are animals when it comes to Mt Burr and our footy – we take it damn seriously. So Ganders is a very proud dad and the town is bubbling with pride too. And more than a few hangovers.

8) Being home in the country for a few days holiday and catching up with old friends. Ganders, Mitch, Strop – all mates from my early years. We’ve slowed down a bit, got a bit bigger, realized we can’t party as hard as we used to (or used to think we did anyway) but we’re all still here, we’re all still kicking and considering the mortality rate of our age group back in the day of cheap grog and fast and stupid driving that in itself makes it good to catch up. Sitting in Ganders shed sucking on beer and listening to joe walsh rates pretty high in itself too!

9) The rumours that Betty Paginated zine might be back in a smaller junior version. Dann the man Lennard and I met back in the early 90s when he and I stumbled onto each other’s zines. It became a strong friendship based I think on us both being country boys (we had in fact lived in the same area without knowing it) being lousy drunks, having good looking wives who somehow saw through our schtick, liking similar comics, books, music (though he’s got a thing for big nosed girly bands) and just generally enjoying each other’s company. I can say without reservation that he is one of my best friends and I always enjoy catching up with him. So when he announced the end of BP it was a sad moment. Now it seems that he might have a wee spark still in him and we will might yet again get those words of wisdom about wrassling, naked chicks and whatever else takes his fancy. Till then there’s always his blog. www.bettypaginated.blogspot.com

10 ) Friday morning walking home from taking beezlebubby to school and walking past a couple who were much older than me (and I’m mid 40s now so they musta been ancient) holding hands and obviously still quite happy to show some public affection. Might not seem much but I’ve seen how many of beezle’s school friends are from separated families. Two or even three houses that they loosely call home, mum, dad, new dad, new mum, or just new boyfriend/girlfriend… can’t be easy sometimes to work out where you’re going in life when you’re not even sure we’re you’re going this weekend. So to see a couple of “wrinklies” quite happily holding hands, smiling and enjoying their morning walk was a damn fine way to start a day. (for all I know though they might be having an affair or be new to each other – why do I assume they’ve been together for a long time?)

HE’S NOT THE MESSIAH HE’S A VERY NAUGHTY BOY

2007-09-24T23:05:00.000-07:00

Joe Strummer - The Future Is Unwritten

D: Julian Temple 2007

Ok, lets get the luggage out the way first…I am biased… I do not think that Joe Strummer created heaven and earth and everything inbetween… I also think julian temple is an overrated, undertalented git who’s main claim to fame is basically his ‘friends’. He was in the right place at the right time. And actually so was Joe. At least this film does reveal some of his foibles and doesn’t always paint him as Saint Joe creator of punk rock, the universe and everything but it comes close sometimes. So we’ve got that out the way lets get on with the review…

Joe Strummer it turns out was really a middle class white kid who’s main gripe seems to be that his parents put him into a boarding school! Sure they aint great places to be in but the little fucker had already traveled the globe as a tacker with his diplomat father so what was his problem? I think it was really because he was a bully in school so he had to come up with some sort of ‘cover’ for his behaviour. Oh whoa is me, I’m in a boarding school while my dad the diplomat travels the world and I had to bully other kids to protect myself… fuck off ya git! So then he gets out goes strolling across the country and ends up squatting in London.

You get the feeling thought that Strummer (or Woody as he was in the hippie folk days) wasn’t squatting because he needed to, it was just the ‘done’ thing. He’d already roamed the country side being a troubador, squatting was next and then wow , this punk thing seems like the go – new name, new mates (and ditch the old friends rather harshly) and off for a jolly jaunt as a punk rocker! And though he moans about making it big in America – he wanted to crack the US in the first place so what was his problem? Simple solution, don’t go there to make it big then you wouldn’t have had to worry about all that money and fame (and oh that we should all have that problem). Really he’s revealed as a bloody hippie, a spoiled little white boy, a school bully and a bit of a moaner. And its always someone else’s fault.

And now I’ve got the moaning out the way I’ll say hey some of this weren’t bad – I like The Clash (‘specially the first two albums and even London Calling though it aint the motherlode everyone says it is) and there is some great footage, some early history, some good interviews… pity about bono and flea claiming that the clash inspired them to form their own bands (for giving us U2 and Red Hot Chilli Peppers Strummer should be burning in hell right now!!! Instead of being held up as some sort o’ holy leader. ) but he can’t have known that was going to happen can he? And its funny to see some of the faces looking old and fat now…so much for live fast die young leave a good looking corpse!

So anyway if you’re a fan of the band or the man or the era you’ll probably enjoy this – it’s a lot like Temple’s sex pistols flick, lots of clips and cleverness and soundbites and aren’t we clever sods but it’s a night out I guess. Though I’d rather just get drunk and listen to the records.

Oh and for you new kids – no the clash didn’t invent punk rock but they did make it more commercial.

Top Ten things that have made the week worthwile

2007-09-23T01:39:00.000-07:00

Antony Eli Dolan Hier’s continuing recovery. Born 7^th September 2007 with a complication or two, like a collapsed lung and a serious infection – the little battler is now well on his way to being just your usual screaming, shitting, feed me machine – damn good news.
She Said What? Market day at Urtext. The publisher and I set up a stall at the market next to Karl (A Perfect Gentleman – and never was a man better named) and just relaxed. Sold a few things, met a few people, chilled, ate free sandwiches and watched the next batch of kids keep the fire burning. As an old fart I can get very cynical at times (Just in case you missed it) but the Urtext crew are still full of fire and passion and have yet to be beaten down. For a change I’m not gonna take that away from them, in fact I feed off of it a bit and keep myself going.
And Karl, well he is just the perfect gentleman, I have yet to hear him say anything bad about anyone nor anyone say bad things about him… hmmm, is a serial killer perhaps, I don’t know but its always a pleasure to see that grin approach. And to paraphrase Publisher, Karl is one of those guys who supports everyone. Whether it’s the literary stuff we’re trying or music or a zine… he’s there doing his bit, buying, trading, acknowledging it all. Sadly a lot of folk just seem to be in it for their patch o’ dirt and they pay scant attention to anyone else’s dirt but the Gentleman, he likes to dabble in all the dirt.
Picking up copies of the old Search And Destroy zine at She Said What? Just to reminisce a bit, and then getting the new Analogue Apocolypse zine and seeing their improvement. A.A. has the look of the old cutnpaste punk zines and hell, they even name dropped me so I gotta say it’s a good zine – but you know what? It actually is.
Catching Dead Popes Of The Vatican at the Jetty Road pub Saturday night. Just simple 1234 rock and roll from a bunch of miscreants who are just out to have a good time. They covered Psycho and Nice Boys Don’t Play Rock and Roll so that oughta give you an idea of where their heads are at. (and they did a good job on both) they aint gonna change the world and they know it. No illusions of grandeur just good pub rock. And then sitting around talking real estate with the boys – jeez, we’re getting old!
Picking up the September issue of Excitement Machine and finding three of my pomes in there! I didn’t know they had accepted them, let alone published them. Nice surprise. Excitement Machine is a free mag put out from Urtext – don’t know how they manage to keep the quality up but they do, lots of great art, interviews, a sense of fun… support the little buggers so they can one day say, “hey we published kami before he was famous!”
Getting a care package from Dann (Betty Paginated) Lennard. Wrestling dvds, the first episode of The Contender 3 and fresh pics of Jones Jessica Lennard. It seems that the good wife and I were ahead of our time (well, she was I cant take any of the credit) now there’s kids popping out everywhere, real estate sales, everyone settling down. She’s just a trendsetter! (and I just mope along for the ride)
Beezlebubby’s continuing (unrequited) love for wrestler CM Punk. Dunno what she sees in a tattooed, straight edge, long haired git like CM but she adores him. Well at least it seems to be taking the heat off her other unrequited love Ryan who is a year older than her and himself infatuated with a fellow grade sixer. Beezlebubby’s in grade 5 and thus doesn’t cut it. Still, give her credit, she’s stuck to her guns all year despite knowing she has no chance. And Ryan, well he’s a pretty boy but he’s thicker than OJ Simpson’s case file.
Doing a pub review (it’s my job) and discovering a local pub that has a mofo big screen, puts on the boxing and is a twenty minute walk from home! And I’ll get paid for the discovery.
The Kangaroos making it to fourth. Sure they went out with a whimper but hell no one tipped them to even get to the finals and there’s a lot of other teams who didn’t even get that far so up yours, we’ll take it as a good year. And the Mighty Mossies won the b-grade and senior colts premierships so it wasn’t a bad year at all Go you zooeys!

top ten things that made it all worthwile

2007-09-16T00:02:00.000-07:00

Top 10 things that made the week good.

1) my daughter beezlebubby who’s now 11 going on teenager pulled up a chair and sat and watched Friday night fights with me. We’re going thru a rough patch with her trying to strike out already for independence and me being a stubborn, selfish prick who wants things his way and no other way – lots of yelling and “that’s not fair” and all that but there she was Friday night in her chair sharing the big bag of potato chips and asking about the fighters, the rules, who I was barracking for. (she hasn’t quite got her head around the idea that you can watch a sport without having to necessarily follow one person or team over the other but that’s ok) and it was so damn good just to relax for both of us (and the good wife who sat back and watched it unroll) and enjoy the moment even if she didn’t quite understand it all. I need to hold onto that when I am struggling with the whole parenthood/father/letting go/ do what I say schtick that I get stuck in.

2) stumbling onto Raven (Confederate) Mack’s blogspot. Confederate Mack zine was a major moment for me a couple of years back helping me to get my head around a lot of strange ideas and giving me the push to become more of a lounger and less of a worrier (though the good wife would probably laugh at that). Raven is a mad ass dreadlocked whiteboy lounger redneck rapper housepainter cum philosopher ninja – part acid casualty part whitetrash messiah and damn I like how the fucker writes – be it about music, brew, hiphop, American football, politix, wrestling, whatever… there’s just something about his style that tickles my funnybone and makes me think. And he’s big on top 10 lists so I guess this is my tribute o’ sorts.

3) Suckdog – Drugs Are Nice A Suckumentary DVD. Lisa Carver’s book of the same name was a great read – a fucked up 80s girl who found her way via ugliness, insanity, music, drama and choosing the most fucked up friends she could find. This doco cum home movie features some truly insane footage of her and friends in action with film clips, interviews, the lunacy that is Costes and just a shitload of “holy fuck these people are nuts, how did they even think of that” laugh out loud madness. And all without an arts grant! Bodily fluids, opera, punk rock, homo erotica, giant penises, violence, punker kids, nothing is sacred.

4) Unbelievably Bad #6 – who else would even put sadisitik execution on the cover!? What I like about UB is that even when they interview bands I have no interest in (like all the new shitcore,thrashcore,whatevercore bands) they do such a good job of it that I then do want to hear them… luckily I’m so lazy that I don’t ruin the moment by ever getting around to it and can just imagine that maybe these guys are good. But the fuckers also throw in the best of the old farts too… a great and reverent mix of music, film, cult bastards of all persuasions and Editor Danger Coolidge can actually string a few words together too which is a rarity in a lot of zines these days.

5) Cheap cds. Been on a bit of a cheap spending spree and last week picked up some beauties for fuck all, most for $2 some even less. But the best of it would have been The History Of Country & Western Vol 12 (1946) which did cost me the princely sum of $3 but has twenty vintage country tracks from the likes of Hank Williams, Chet Atkins, Merle Travis and more – all 1946, 47 all original – now I just gotta track down the previous 11 volumes!

6) Naxos Nostalgia – Children’s Favourites – cost me $1.25 (4 for 5 Bux deal) Jerry Lewis, Danny Kaye but the best bits Mel Blanc doing “I Tawt I Taw A Puddy Tat” and the Teddy Bear’s Picnic by Popeye! As a kid I got teased with the Popeye moniker on account o’ having all my teeth extracted due to calcium deficiency. I was six years old and we all know kids can be cruel. Hell its our job isn’t it? Anyway, I copped plenty of stick and didn’t think much of Popeye for awhile (though curiously a mate and I loved the whole Wimpy “I’ll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today” routine. Hell, we started eating hamburgers just cos o’ Wimpy) but now I can appreciate the sailorman and this track cracks me up.

7) Adding an extra ten pounds to my bench press making it 130 pounds. Sure it ain’t much in the real world but it makes me feel good to be able to add that little bit extra. And no I don’t know what it is in kilos, probably fuck all, the set I have is so old its in pounds, its metal and its rusting but its heavy enough for me. I started doing the weights to just get a little fitter, to be able to keep up with the drinking and partying (you know, get fit so you can get fucked up) but then the good wife started commenting on the muscle tone and we all know how the male ego works! So now I’m taking it much more seriously (well as seriously as an old fart with no time management skills and a lazy arse can) I eat better, I buy the protein mix, I try and add that little bit of extra weight or at least one more set to a session. And I’m starting to see some results. And more importantly so can the good wife!

8) That feeling of just maybe having got the words right. Been working on my long suffering manuscript Fists OF Love this week and I think I’m getting somewhere. I’ve been guilty of letting this story out early but now its just about ready to go. And as much as I sometimes hate them right now I’m back in love with Jason and Cindy. It’s a frustrating process having the idea and the people there but not being able to articulate the story enough to get someone else to see it the way I do… I think I’m getting closer though.

9) Cruising down south with the publisher and the kid for a poetry slam. Just the drive, stopping at a pub at Yankallilla for hot chips and a (light) beer… lots of bullshit talk, payouts and friendship… watching the kid develop, seeing the publisher finally getting his dues for years of unpaid hardwork… we ain’t in this for the money, we like words, we like the power of a story, a book, a pome… little trips like this make me realise what we are doing it for.

10) Ant’s ongoing recovery. My good friends Mike and Roosh had their first child last week but there were complications and it was touch and go. Young Antony is a fighter though (he shares his birthday with Sugar Shane Mosley) and he looks like he’s coming good. These two are the sort of people that as soon as you see them together you just know it’s right, they should be together – but they’ve had their share of ups and downs. Now its looking up and I’m so damn happy for them, they deserve it. And really this should be up the top of the list with sharing the boxing with beezlebubby. ‘nuff said.

whatever happened to the revolution?

2007-09-04T18:28:00.000-07:00

HAVE YOU HUGGED AN ANARCHIST TODAY?

so I’m sitting here in a house barely four years old, at this flash new computer, flat screen xp windows (pirated of course) listening to the toe cutter cd I bought in Melbourne on the weekend, just started work on an article for a glossy mag, pile of books next to me (again purchased on the weekend trip to Melbourne) cds teetering on the shelf on the right (all country or alt country – my latest “thing”) feeling all anarchic and revolutionary and wondering whether I’ve got time for a coffee before I pick up my daughter from school. (One more stamp and I’m eligible for a free cuppa!) I’ve been checking my email spasmodically as I await word on whether an interview I did on the weekend will get into another glossy (thus paying for my spending frenzy in melb) and I’m just thinking… wow man, you are so alternative in yr sun ra t-shirt, with yr gacy paintings and yr chomsky diatribes and yr oh so witty angry old man routine… I tell you some days I’m so cool I freeze myself out! But the question is… what do I do instead? I’m too fucking comfortable to give this up, especially since I don’t actually pay for a lot of it. I work sort of as a freelance writer in between writing Bukowski knock offs and vacuuming the floors, but I’m really a housewife when it gets down to it. I do the dishes, cooking, cleaning, nose wiping etc… the wife has the corporate job, the car, the perks… I walk or ride the bike, do the shopping, get my daughter ready for school… yep, I abhor the “system” yet I make my daughter go to school each day and then try and undo the damage done later… I’m not a leftie as such cos I hate the hippies but I sure as shit aint right wing either…I’d like to save the world but I’m only prepared to put in a token effort, nothing too taxing, expensive or that will take me out of my comfort zone, you understand. I get totally fucked off at the way the arts scene takes the piss out of bogans and westies and country hicks but I’m no longer a bogan anyway and they scare me too sometimes. I hate the glass teat but we have a motherfucking bigscreen hd tv in the lounge and I’ll suckle on it with the best of them…even though I believe nothing they tell me. I don’t trust either side’s opinions anymore. Religion scares me yet I find myself every now and then offering a silent prayer to god or heysuez or the devil to get me out of some fix I’ve got myself into. I have no alternatives to offer yet I’m constantly bagging the current status quo. I think today’s muzak sucks but I hate nostalgia for its own sake and I have no taste/too much taste/bad filtering anyhoo. I haven’t read the “greats” but I pretend I have.

I hate other people’s opinions but I constantly seek them out to confirm my own. I think myspace/ blogs/ facespace whatever the hell it is a waste of time and money and just an advertising tool but fuck it, I still have a site and I check it constantly. (hell I’ll probably post this there)

I’d like to think I was a sociopath but unfortunately I’m too much of a softie. I’m not a misogynist but I am unashamedly heterosexual, which let’s face it, is just an excuse anyway.

But then hell I’m the housewife so how does that work anyway? I’ve discovered over the years that just being comfortably white makes me racist. I don’t mean to be, its just there sort of underneath. Like the fear those arty types have of bogans I guess, that’s the fear I have of other cultures, other races, hell anyone else who isn’t on the same page as me. I understand things need fixing but I’m too lazy, too tired, too old, too comfortable, too scared, too… something… to do anything much about it. Lets face it, I’m just a bad tempered, ill advised, poorly educated boofheaded bum. If I was an American I’d probably be a serial killer. Instead I’m a sort of pseudo-bogan/pissant intellectual house dad. Just who the hell am I trying to please? Whoever it is, they ain’t coming forward and I’m going backwards.

Christ on a crutch, I might just break out that new Suckdog dvd I picked up, watch it while I finish my protein drink and pretend I’ve achieved something for the day before I start on tea. That’s probably the best I can do right now anyway.

SHOW US YER MUZAK

2007-07-23T03:09:00.000-07:00

Well, it kinda went like this. I haven’t had an alcoholic beverage since Mudda’s Day so that’s what… eight nine weeks now… (don’t ask why, let’s just say that I needed a break…) anyway, no drinking meant no spending, lots of money saved when you ain’t paying for overpriced beer, taxis, door charges, bribes, phone calls, etc… but it also meant lots of spare time… what do with that time? Well, I coulda used it to work on a manuscript or look for a job or clean out the shed but I decided… why not spend that extra cash?! Why not buy yet more music that I may or may not get around to listening to to add to the pile I already have?! So I did. Here’s what I been spending my whiskey money on these last coupla months (instead o’ whiskey)

DEVIL’S REJECTS – SOUNDTRACK I’ve been told by a fairly reliable source (hey stud) that the movie sucked so I haven’t bothered to watch it. The soundtrack however is the fucking goods!! Allman Bros, Lynryd Skynyrd, Joe Walsh, James Gang and three Terry Reid corkers! Not a duff track amongst it all, the placement of each track is perfect, the whole thing runs smooth and true and opened up my eyes to the glory o’ Southern Rock… HENCE…

LYNYRD SKYNYRD – GOLD Double CD best of … 25 tracks of solid Skynyrd – loud, proud, barefoot southern boogie. Shit yeah I’m a Redneck and I’m damn proud of the fact!

GREAT SOUTHERN ROCK – VARIOUS Found this second hand for a tenner. Good selection if a little on the softer side – Marshall Tucker Band, Atlanta Rhythm Section, Outlaws, Allman Bros, JJ Cale, Wet Willie etc. Perfect hangover/Sunday mourning music though for when I inevitably fall off that wagon.

MY NAME IS EARL – SOUNDTRACK Cost me $8 brand new – never seen the show but hey, Jerry Reed, Los Lobos, Skynyrd, Nilsson…

RAINBOW – CLASSIC Big Star had a half price second hand sale so this collection cost me four bucks I think. 16 trax of solid Blackmore with a dash of Dio and Bonnet amongst others. All pretty good and a shitload better than what passes for Deep Purple these days.

TIM BUCKLEY – LORCA Another Big Star special and what a fucking bargain this was. Don’t go much for the son but dad, hell he had some fine moments, particularly later on when he let his hair down. Rambling psych folk jazz form 1970 that creeps up on you and wedges itself slap bang into yer psyche and wont let go.

JEFF DAHL – I KILL ME Yep, anudder second hand stunner. Why would anyone even part with this? Solid fuggin’ spew o’ mid 80s Dahl with Cheetah Chrome on Geetar!! Fuck the greenday/rancid dickheads, this is PUNK!

JB Hifi had a sale on – three cds for a redback – so I grabbed myself SCORPIONS – WORLD WIDE LIVE for the flashbacks it gave me of my mid 20’s drinking/partying daze, a FOZZY CD cos it was autographed and my daughter loves Chris Jericho (It’s a wrasslin’ thing) and the BRIDES OF DESTRUCTION – HERE COMES THE BRIDES cos I needed a third cd. Lemme tell ya, the Brides (featurin’ NIKKI SIX & TRACII GUNS) kicks some serious rock and roll arse!! 9 tracks, no filler, no alt takes, no “oh my gosh, lets get artistic after all we have 75 minutes to fill” just a slam bam thirty odd minutes of rock and damn roll, sleazy dripping fucked up fun. Why the hell did Nikki go back to Motley Crue when he had this goin?? Oh yeah, the money. Fuck him!

SHOW US YER VINYL

The last record fair unleashed some vinyl treats for yours truly too.

LYNYRD SKYNYRD – ONE MORE FROM THE ROAD Double live album of the Skynyrd at their peak! And for a measly five bucks!!

LYNYRD SKYNYRD – SECOND HELPING their second album with Sweet Home Alabama as an opener! Sure the radio flogs it to death but fuck me, it still kicks arse don’t it?!

BIG BLACK – ATOMIZER The Blast First reissue (I ain’t that anal) Kerosene is my song. Every country boy alive knows just what Albini means when he sings… “nothing to do but stare at the walls… nothing to do but stare at each other…kerosene around… etc etc…

ROCKWELL T. JAMES – A SHOT OF RHYTHM AND BLUES it’s the Aussie 70s completist in me that made me pick this up. With Sherbet, Ted Mulry and Cheetah amongst others helping Rockwell out I had to buy it… might even play it one day.

DROPKICK MURPHYS – WARRIORS CODE Only bought it cos it had Mickey Ward on the cover but it actually sounds pretty good too. Though I still prefer their earlier, rougher days.

THREE TOED SLOTH – SELF TITLED The muthafucking find of the day!! Feedtime offshoot (If you have to ask don’t ask me, I’ll just yell at you) Self released, 500 copies only from 1991 and I thought I’d never find a copy. The fact that I could get hold of a mint copy, unplayed, untouched and unwanted by the masses is a sad thing indeed but then fuck the masses… what do they know anyway?

MORE BIG STAR BARGAINS (ON VINYL) (AND ALL DIRT CHEAP!)

ZZ TOP – TRES HOMBRES c’mon, I don’t really have to explain this one do I?
I thought not.

SOUTH’S GREATEST HITS – VARIOUS The love affair continues. Charlie Daniels, Allman Bros, Elvin Bishop, Dr John etc etc

BROOOOOCE – BORN TO RUN Cos my cassette copy (purchased damn near 23 years ago) is sounding kinda worn…

GARLAND JEFFREYS – GHOST WRITER Incredibly under rated singer songwriter. Best known probably for Wild In The Streets (which appears on this slab o’ 77 wax) but he’s done so much more. Perhaps a little slick for his own good (or at least the musos he uses are) his ESCAPE ARTIST album (1981) is an undiscovered classic – hell, all his albums contain gems that just make your jaw drop. This ‘un is no exception with the stunning Spanish Town finishing off an album that contains nary a bad moment on it!

ELLEN FOLEY – SPIRIT OF ST. LOUIS The lost Clash Album?? From 81 this lp was produced by Foley’s then beau MICK JONES (or as she puts it in the credits – ‘my boyfriend’) and featured all the band – Joe, Topper and Paul. In fact six of the twelve tracks were penned by Strummer and Jones! So what’s it sound like? Well, it ain’t a Clash album! Foley’s first album Night Out, produced by Ian Hunter and Mick Ronson was a solid rock and roll album but this one is more European, more esoteric. It wanders a bit, trying at times a little too hard to be, well, different I guess but over all its worth the effort and it certainly shows a different side of Strummer and Jones. The duet on Torchlight ‘tween Jones and Foley ain’t that far removed from London Calling era Clash and MPH rocks out too. In The Killing Hour is the funniest though – it just that da da da dum riff that builds up and up… (The Muppets did it best!)

(and apparently Should I Stay or Should I Go? was written about Foley and Jones’ relationship)

JOE WALSH – SMOKER YOU DRINK Hell, its got Rocky Mountain Way on it!! Who cares what the rest sounds like?

JOE WALSH – YOU CAN’T ARGUE WITH A SICK MIND Joe Live! 17 minute version o’ Rocky Mountain!!! Whooo hoooo!!!!

Now if you’ll excuse me I gotta look over the shitload of books I just brought!

revenge is sweet... crazy gals with knives!

2007-05-20T18:30:00.000-07:00

DEMENTED

D: Arthur Jeffreys 1980

I Spit On Your Grave style rip off that I first encountered around 82 when it got Aussie release. I was 18/19 then and that front cover, tits, blood, meat cleaver reeled me in. And for some reason I always come back to this movie even though its mostly fucking atrocious. Sallee Elyse plays Linda who is attacked about a minute into the movie by four men in stocking masks and raped. Why? Cos she’d get her gear off for the scene is my guess. Anyway, after a trip to the nuthouse she comes home to try and be ‘normal’ again. Her husband played by porn king Harry Reems (sorry Bruce Gilchrist – why do they bother changing names?) is meanwhile banging away at some other slapper. Thoughtful soul isn’t he? Linda starts seeing things, imagining that her attackers, long locked away, are still stalking her. Unfortunately Harry’s porn background seems to have carried over into this movie and the acting and dialogue is pretty much bad 70s porn standard. Except, strangely enough for Harry. Anyway, a chance encounter with the teenage boys next door sends Linda over the edge and when the same boys decide to put on rubber masks and stalk their poor deranged neighbour things start to get messy. (You can almost hear John McClane saying “how can the same thing happen to the same guy twice?)

Its only from here on in that things get better. Suddenly Sallee has decided she can act (marginally) and she overacts the nutter just perfectly. The cleaver comes out and the first boy gets it in the neck. Linda then sets about seducing each of the boys, drugging the first, disarming and confusing the next two boys before a garotting castration, and a chop or two finish them off. Drugged boy wakes up tied to a chair and treated to a raw meat dinner complete with surreal and amazingly bad dialogue before she blows him away with a shotgun. And where’s hubby during all this? With some scrubber who he only ever gets to have simulated sex with!! What a waste of talent. He’s in for quite a surprise when he gets home, let me tell you. Sure Sallee ain’t the best actress in the world and the first hour (except for the short sharp rape scene) are pretty bad but once the mirror cracks she puts on a great z-grade psycho performance that almost makes up for her lack of ability as a “normal” person. See it just for the last supper with drugged boy… and of course because cleavage and cleaver go so well together!

DERANGED

D: Chuck Vincent 1987

Pornmeister Vincent wanders over to the ‘mainstream’ and brings Veronica Hart , Jamie Gillis and Jerry Butler with him.

This flick also stars Jennifer Delora of “Bad Girls Dormitory” fame as well. Surprisingly, considering the porn stars involved she’s the worst actor too! Veronica plays the recently married, pregnant rich girl (girl? Ok, woman) Joyce who has a few minor psychological problems. We know she has problems because as her hubby Frank (Butler) is leaving to fly off on business, Joyce hears voices in her head warning her that Frank is banging her sister Mary Anne played bitchily by Delora.

Then when Joyce gets home she’s attacked by a masked bad guy, who proceeds to beat the shit out of her. She sticks him in the head with some scissors but it’s too late and she loses the baby. (Cleverly done scene I must say – we just see the empty cot while she’s screaming in the background.) That’s enough to send Joycee over the edge and the rest of the movie maps out her downward spiral for all to see. She’s still sane enough to stuff a cushion up her jumper when people come to the door but inbetween she starts having flashbacks and talking to her shrink, her baby, her mudda – soon we get the whole fucked up story. Daddy dearest (played by Jamie Gillis!!!) slashed his own throat in the bath and Joyce discovered the body. Or did he? Did she kill him for the millions of bux she inherited? And just how closely did daddy “love” his girl? And then when her mum brings home her lover (now her new husband) the day after the funeral and introduces her new half sister! (Delora)… well. its no wonder Joyce went crackers. The majority of the flick is in the one set apartment with people popping up out of Joyce’s psyche as the story unfolds. The only real person she sees is Nick the delivery boy. Of course Nick cops a razoring after he discovers her humping a pillow (don’t ask) and mistakenly thinks he’s in. Of course once he’s dead he pops up again anyway but not until Joyce (finally) gives her half sister Mary Anne a deserved knife in the guts. Turns out Frank and Mary Anne had arranged for the attack, trying to knock her off and get her cash. After that it’s a rapid collapse into insanity with the corpse parade – stalker, Nick, Mary Anne and Daddy - being a particular highlight. I’ve seen a couple of reviews that really bagged this flick and I can’t see why. Sure, it’s done cheaply (one set for the most) but Hart puts in a fucking great performance as a woman going completely and utterly nuts. Shit, she carries most of the flick really – drifting in and out of sanity, from one flashback to the next without losing track at all… she does a bloody good job of it. Gillis is his usual sleazy self, even Butler manages to hold up his end.

And I gotta mention the soundtrack, some great throbbing synth noise, especially when she first arrives back at the apartment. And once she starts the drift into insanity there’s a continuous low humming synth loop that continues for most of the flick. At first I thought it was just tape noise or summat but I soon realized that it was the same loop over and over just niggling out yr nerves while Hart wanders from slightly crazy to fucking maniac… Fucking clever little sod that Chuck. Sure it can be slow in parts and a bit wordy for you sleaze hounds but fuck it, this is a great movie, hunt the fucker down and reward yourself.

Tapping The Sauce

2007-05-09T17:09:00.000-07:00

What was the punk manifesto again?! Anyone can do it? Yeah, that was it. But you know what, they were wrong. Anyone can be a star – as long as yr. blonde, buffed or a celebrity child but not everyone can be in a band, not everyone can record a song, play guitar, make a record. Well, not anymore anyway.

See, us old farts remember what a burst of fresh air punk was back in the 70's – how you really could believe that anyone could do it. Of course I'm talking that brief two or three month period before the marketing gurus and the record companies got their big boof heads and cheque books in the mix. Watching all the little emo kids and the Mohawk retro kids and the plain dweeby kids think that they're punk now cos they've got the uniform and can drop a few names (like Greenday and Rancid are soooo retro dude!) makes me laugh until I cry. There was no uniform you dimwits, there was no "sound" – you can't compare the sex pistols to Richard Hell nor would you say that the slits sounded like the ramones, geza x had nothing to do with the clash, suicide and the damned had nothing in common except to incite a riot – that was the point, they were breaking away from the music industries' manipulation of our senses, they were all creating their own sounds, their own styles and looks. Now every subculture is turned into a style, a look, a sound. You have to sound like someone else or you wont fit in. And that counts as much in the so called 'avantgarde' as it does in pop music, as it does in metal as it does in jazz. You gotta have a pigeon hole to put them in, to compare them to, to market them with.

Talk about taking the fun out of it all. Music is to be enjoyed. It's an escape, a joyous moment of fucking, fun and frivolity. Not all of it I know, it can be deeply moving, music can have memories for people, of moments when they first heard a song or bought the album, memories of family and friends that become linked to a song or a piece of music. I couldn't play Miles Davis Kind Of Blue for a year after my father died because of the memories it brought back. But there are songs I still play that bring back teenage years, of cruising and sunshine and being dumber than a box of nails when I tried to talk to girls. I can still remember the day I saw the sex pistols on tv – pretty vacant and how raw and fucking ugly it sounded on my little b&w tv playing in the kitchen while mum cooked tea in the background. I didn't run out and shave my head or rip my clothes or even form a band but it instantly changed my way of thinking, the way I saw my life in a small country town of 500 people where I was the only one who listened to that "rubbish". It would be fair enough to say that without the pistols, the damned, boys next door, radio birdman – that I wouldn't be writing this, that I would still be there working in the mill, drinking Friday nights at the club, playing pokies and giving the kids money for chips and coke so they would leave me alone.

Do they get that now? Is there an epiphany when you are being drenched in this stuff – when it's marketed and festivalled and shoved down yr throat constantly? Well, at least until next week when the next album, festival, nextbigthing comes along. You don't even have to hunt for the stuff anymore, you just go on yr computer or try myspace or just wait for them to slap it on high rotation on that "aussie youth network" – whatever happened to the discovery of something new, the search for that song you caught a glimpse of late at night on the telly or radio when no one else was listening. Trying in vain to get yr local record shop to track down the song.

At times I do kinda feel sorry for the kids today, the fun has been taken out of their fun and they don't even know it. They think they're still rebelling with their designer brand alternative bands, clothes, lifestyles. Years ago (many years ago) I took my earring out because I realized it was actually older than the girl I was chatting up at the pub. Now every little twerp has holes all over his/her body. Being cleanskin is rebellious now. I never got around to the tattoos and I'm kinda glad I was always broke/slack/sober 'cos now they don't mean shit – it's just a great marketing tool and they look so cool in those "alternative'' fashion shoots in those "alternative" glossy mags. A smart man would be investing in tattoo laser removal technology right now because in ten years there's gonna be a boom market there!

And sure, pop music has always been marketed and money orientated and top ten hits and all the pretty boys and girls but hey, look at the 70s – garry glitter, angels, slade – they weren't pretty were they? Sure there were music machines pumping out songs but they were songs!! They were written, played by real people they weren't computerized samples and celebrities doing computerized film clips, they was real folk what could actually play their instruments and write the odd song. Some of them could almost lipsync too! (I mean when the pussycat dolls who started life as a dancing troupe need their film clips manipulated so they get the dance steps right you have to wonder) Where are the ugly pop bands? Where are the studio musos who manage that one big and usually silly hit? Where's any bloody musos?

So, what's it all about? It's about having some fun, about the idea that anyone can do it, that you don't need technology, or a good looking front chick, or political correctness or the latest sound/style or even a fucking Mohawk… just an idea or two, a sense of humour and some time. Time to actually stop and enjoy it, the music, the socializing, the act of doing something creative, regardless of what it is or how many people get it or see it or hear it – just do it for yourself and see what happens. It can be fun occasionally. Music used to be about the music (regardless of the style) not about the money or the marketing or the units shifted or getting on the festival bill, it used to just be about the creation, the sound, the fun. If fanzines can be like that again (and they seem to be heading back in that direction) then why can't the music? DIY4Y

End of sermon

who stole my music? give it back you pricks!

2006-09-17T03:36:00.000-07:00

What a week for rock and roll. Where do I start? Oh yeah, with Kiss appearing on Scooby Doo! Yep, that’s right… my daughter is hooked on the old hound dog sleuth and last weekend’s episode featured the masked misfits singing “shout It Out Loud” while the ghost of some old fart wandered around (it was a Halloween episode) and Paul got to crack some “give us the money” type jokes. Fuck that! When I was a mere stribling, back in 75/76 which made me all of maybe 13 or 14 I first heard “Rock And Roll All nite” and I was blown away. I didn’t know then that the make up was the big gimmick, that it never came off, that they had this enormous stage show – I just saw the film clip and went what the fuck is that? I rushed out and bought Kiss Alive on the strength of that one song. That’s right – double album on vinyl, gatefold sleeve, old Casablanca logo… we had to drive up to Mt Gambier, some thirty miles up and thirty back to get it and then my mother went to a friend’s house for coffee!!! And all I wanted to do was get home and throw that fucking album on! That was when I first realised that there was more to them than just the songs, that they had the images, the spaceman, the cat, the lover, the demon… but first came the songs… fuck me, Strutter, Deuce, She, Cold Gin… and my fave, even better then rnr all nite was Let Me Go Rock’n’Roll.
I flogged that song to death… that was the fucking anthem for me… this was the band for me. And let me tell you, forget about the megabuck machine they are now, forget about the two aging egomaniacs who refuse to let the band die, forget all that shit… back in 76, being a Kiss fan in a country town in South Australia instantly alienated you. We were few but we were strong. We believed in that band, we believed that they believed in us too – fuck were we wrong! They just wanted our money, they didn’t give a fuck about the “fans” in the end, just the moolah. So I guess I shouldna been surprised to see them as a cartoon band on a cartoon show about a defective detective dog but it still hurt.
Then much to my surprise, the Rolling Stones appear on Days of our Lives (don’t even go there). Talk about crossover merch… the band actually popped up a coupla months back with some single being played exclusively on the show in a very lame tv clip sequence that had nothing to do with the episode and now they have a concert scene in LA and some of the characters win tickets to go see them! (Apparently everyone on Days is a Stones fan) Who decided that this was the audience they wanted to reach? What a weird arse piece of marketing… hey, Mick, Keith, we reckon appearing on this soapie will really boost ticket sales! Huh? Oh, and they suck live too.Then to top the week off, we had the finale to Rockstar Supernova. Now I know I shouldn’t even be watching this shit but hey, I did, I was hooked I admit it. That houseband can play damn near any song on the fucking planet in any style and make it sound good. So to me it was like watching a damn good covers band without the smoke and obnoxious cunt in front of you waving his mobile phone. Though it has to be said that considering we had guys from Guns N Roses, Metallica and Motley Crue to impress, the song selections were remarkably lame at times… I mean Radiohead, Verve, Coldplay… where the fuck was the metal?! And then the band go and pick the fucking muppet punk Lukas. You woulda thought that Gabby, sorry Gibby and Tommy would know about getting a fucking frontman… they would know that you need more than a windup punk kit with a voice like a fucked up vacuum cleaner… but then what the hell, its all presold anyway… the concert tickets were selling out before they announced the winner so what do they care. And just as an aside, how “live” and “unplanned” was the winner anyway? I mean Magni gets eliminated just half hour before and then Lukas brings him out to play with Supernova! He just happened to be standing around backstage with an acoustic guitar to play with the band just half an hour after being eliminated?! Surely if the final four all thought they had a chance at the title they weren’t rehearsing to be playing as fucking back up were they? Kinda suss to me… but hell, we’re talking about reality tv here so why am I even bothering. Still, this week has left a nasty taste in my mouth… I used to love rock and roll – I’m old enough to remember when punk was a legitimate statement, a movement, a moment… music used to be something we fucking talked about for days – we saw the film clip on the weekend and then we had to wait another 7 days, sometimes longer… it was magic, it was enthralling, the radio was full of surprises… I’d go into the record shop and flick through the new releases maybe once a month, there wasn’t this bombardment of actors/sluts/ singers/dickheads… we had to hunt for things, find the songs, wait for the magazines to mention some minor detail and try and fit all the pieces together… it meant something so amazing… now its all marketing, demographics and you’re bombarded with it! Fuck, sex pistols and clash dvds are now in the cheap bins… who coulda thought that in 76? Who would expected that? The shit I copped for listening to Birthday Party, Motorhead, Ruts, Pistols, Angelic Upstarts… now everyone is revered and repackaged (except maybe the Upstarts…poor buggers)… when will I see nick cave on Scooby Doo or Hi5 – it can’t be far off can it? Lemmy on sunrise or johnny rotten doing cabaret at newtown rsl. Shit, you can even get countdown shirts at kmart now (as well as pistols and clash knock offs). Those fuckers have stolen my youth and I want it back!!!!!!!!

Kill her mummy...kill her

2006-09-06T17:00:00.000-07:00

Jason Vorhees has always been my favourite wood stalking, machete wielding, blue-balled masked psycho killer and that’s probably because F13 was one of the first, if not the first, R rated slasher flicks I ever saw. I can still remember taking down the P plates (a dead giveaway that y’re underage) before entering the Starline Drive-In in Millicent in my parents' Ford Escort to see Friday The 13th. I was alone that night, don’t know where my mates were, probably had other things to do like girls or homework, but I was there. I was 17, underage and alone in my car watching as the Vorhees saga unfolded. I had no idea what I was in for, of why I had chosen this particular movie but the tv ads must have been good, though I also have a vague memory of seeing an article in Famous Monsters I think though where I would have found a copy of that in country South Australia is beyond me. As soon as those first throats were slit though I knew I was in a whole new world. I’d been brought up on Hammer Horror and late night 60’s horror flicks but nothing I’d seen had prepared me for the grue, realism, the unflinching matter of factness of Tom Savini’s special fx.
The roller coaster ride had begun and I sat there, screaming, flinching, open mouthed, slack jawed and knowing that I’d stumbled onto something that was going to be with me forever. I was amazed and then just as it was all over, Jason pops out of the fucking water!
I know nowadays we all expect the surprise ending, the villain to get up again, all that stuff and we rarely get caught out by it but I don’t mind admitting that when that little mongoloid fuck popped up and grabbed the boat I squealed like a kid. That night the wet stain on the front of my pants was a spilled coke.
(and of course the irony is that Jason wasn’t even the killer in that first flick… but hell I won’t worry about that smallish detail… it was still a Vorhees after all. Christ he didn’t even do the hockey mask ‘til the 3rd flick but he’ll always be hockey head to me)
I was hooked on splatter after that night and luckily the Starline was too. I was at just the right age, at just the right time and most weekends there seemed to be a splatter/stalker flick on—Happy Birthday To Me, The Burning, My Bloody Valentine, Slumber Party Massacre… some were good, some were crap—(Humungous anyone?) but they were all on the big screen with tits the size of yr head, axes as big as yr car, blood pouring out everywhere, girls screaming, beer being spilled, fingers getting stinky… let me tell you, it was the only way to watch ‘em kiddies, the only way.
Oddly enough when Jason Vs Freddy came out I found myself once again alone when I went to see it. But this time I was totally alone, there was no one else in the cinema at all! Yep, that’s right, nada, nil, zip, zilch… just me and my choctop. Hell, if I’d known it was gonna be like that I woulda snuck in a hipflask. So I picked the best seat in the house, sat back and watched my hockey head hero rip heads off, shit down necks, cry like a baby and beat the fuck out of that glove wearing goose Freddy the Franchise. (and can you imagine the meetings that went on when they were trying to decide which character should be the ‘hero’ - the psycho zombie killer or the child molester? It’s the only time Jason has ever looked like the ‘good’ guy!) I tell you, I had a ball—cheering hockey head, watching the grue in big screen wide arse chunks, sucking down the choctop icecreams—hell, every movie night should be like that. And it was good to see Jason doing his thing just one more time. I’d forgotten just how great he was.
So y’re probably wondering why the old guy is boring you with his ‘good old days’ schtick , well it’s all David Grove’s fault. Who’s David Grove? He’s the twisted sonbitch behind the book “Making Friday the 13th—The Legend Of Camp Blood” put out by FabPress. (fabpress.com) Grove has put together the ultimate tome on hockey head, his history, and every one of the F13 movies. We’re talking the history of the whole damn thing from the initial ideas for the first flick right thru to Jason Vs Freddy. Actors, directors, storylines, cast and crew, special fx… everyfugginthing you could want. Even the F13 tv series gets a run (‘member that dog?) - jesus there’s even a bodycount!
Groves has assembled photos, posters, interviews, facts, stories… he’s talked to everyone…. The fucker is obviously a fan and he’s put together a book that I don’t think anyone could really fault…he knows his stuff and now so do we… who did what, where they went after, career paths, the good the bad the I don’t want to know, the uncut moments...everyfugginthing, everyfugginthing…
Let me tell you… David Grove has a serious jones for Jason Vorhees and he’s done all of us proud. I don’t know what they have planned next for ol blueballs but you know I’m gonna be lining up to watch it and so will David Grove.

Reality...what a concept

2006-08-21T19:45:00.000-07:00

Now I’m not a fan of reality tv, finding it puerile, pointless and seemingly just there to create instant celebrity and make up for the lack of any decent drama or original thought on the idiot box these days… but then I’m hooked on The Contender and RockStar Supernova so where does that leave me? Of course reality has very little to do with rock and roll anyway or for that matter boxing when you consider the likes of don king and sly stallone so maybe I’m really hooked on un-reality shows. Whatever they are doesn’t matter… the new season of The Contender has really raised the bar. From the first week when Michael Clark, a pre-show favourite, was eliminated this show has promised surprises. And each week it delivers.
What I’ve always liked about the concept was the fact that you got to see the boxers as real people, with families and ambitions and problems. You got to see, even though it’s the idiot box version, their lives. This was no better illustrated than this past week’s episode where Michael Stewart and Ebo Elder squared off. You see, both families had hit it off and the kids and the wives were now friends (as were in fact the husbands) but then Michael and Ebo had to “go to work” which meant beat each other up. It was a moment you couldn’t create when the fighters told their wives who they were fighting… you could see the looks on their wives faces as they contemplated what was about to happen. It made them all more human I guess (despite Ebo’s religious waffle I still like the guy)… and the bout itself was intense. Stewart showed that you’re always in with a puncher’s chance and after getting picked off for three rounds by Elder, came up with the punch to finish the fight and continue on in the show. Unlike some of the previous bouts where there had been words, had been tension between the fighters – these two were prepared it seems to be happy either way win or lose… Only Ebo’s daughter seemed distraught, the rest were very accepting although Stewart himself was visibly upset upon hearing how Elder’s daughter had reacted. It made for an intense episode and some great television. And it made the fighters look all the more human and that can’t be bad for the sport at all.

i got them bleeding credit card blues

2006-08-17T17:17:00.000-07:00

Purchases whilst in the great city of Melburg.
Lisa Crystal Carver – Drugs Are Nice (Lisa Suckdog’s Biography! Outstanding book about being a fuck up DIY kid in the 80’s with no sense of self worth or purpose and trying to find your own identity. I couldn’t put this book down. For a girl who was initially known for being sloppy and talentless Carver can write. Highly recommended. I got mine at Collected Works)

John Fahey – How Bluegrass Music Destroyed My Life. (OK haven’t read this ‘un yet but Fahey was a crazed genius and his other book Vampire Vultures was surreal and twisted and highly entertaining. I expect no less this time around.)

Russell Sullivan – Rocky Marciano – The Rock Of His Time. (There’s a great shop called Melbourne Sports Books down the other end of Flinders Street and I always find something there. Extensive section on Boxing and this time I picked up the new edition of Marciano’s biography. Marciano is the only heavyweight champion to finish his career undefeated 49-0 and was my first boxing hero. I still rate him as the best heavyweight ever. Love this shop.)

Skatenigs – Stupid People Shouldn’t Breed (found this cd second hand for $16. have been looking for it for awhile after picking up the Mangled Web cd earlier this year. I love the Skatenigs despite their links to Ministry. You always got the feeling with these guys that if they wanted to, they could kick yr arse where as Ministry used to be a dance band before they discovered smack. Evil little goth kids think Ministry is the bang but they only ever had one song and who can trust goth kids anyway? Skatenigs were the kind of guys who would play your party, drink yr piss, steal yr girls and you would stand in awe.)

Peril – Self Titled (got this cd for $5! Tony Buck…Otomo Yoshihide… thank fuck Melburgians have no taste)

Ronald Shannon Jackson – Red Warrior (Again $5! Bargain mate bargain.)

Unbelievably Bad – Issue #3 (Had to buy this zine once I found out they had an article on Angus McDeth – I thought I was the only one who cared about Angus! Plus they mention the village people’s ‘food figh’t as an undiscovered punk gem. These boys are on the ball. Oh yeah, you get a cd too – haven’t played it yet but one day after a couple of brews I will.)

Sun City Girls – Folk Songs of The Rich & Evil / Exotica on $5 a Day (latest vinyl reissue of early SCG on Eclipse. I’m addicted to this stuff. They lived in a world of their own, possibly even more quirky than today’s releases. Plus I’m old enough to remember the joys of vinyl. I love that feeling of gatefold sleeves and big black shiny rekkids.)

Rapeman – Two Nuns & A Pack Mule. (Didn’t even realise this was still around. Vinyl copy – post bigblack/ Albini still kicking arse. Can’t go past their version of ZZTop’s ‘Just Got Paid’. Now just gotta find Budd)

Suburbia (Finally on DVD. Penelope Spheeris’ classic flick about the punk kids and shithead youth roaming the streets of the 80s. Great live footage of TSOL, Vandals and DI plus a rip roaring doofus story of rejected streetkids and punk rock wannabes. I love this flick – a funhouse staple.)

So, my credit card lies gently bleeding in a corner and I’m cultured up for awhile. Now I just gotta do some writing and pay some bills. And then go back and spend some more!

Overloaded at Overload

2006-08-17T17:15:00.000-07:00

Well, the Paroxysm crew (including yours truly) hit Melbourne once again for our yearly sabbatical to the Overload Poetry Festival and once again we kicked some arse. I just don’t remember too much of it. Saturday night we read with the travelling troupe The Belfast Poets- who were fucking good on stage and off. Sunday we launched the latest Paroxysm anthology “SHOTGUN” (to be launched here in lil ol’ Adelaide in October) at the Arthouse and by all accounts it went down well. I did a stirling job (as much as I can remember anyway) and then proceeded to finish getting plastered (I was drunk before I got there) before being bundled in a taxi and sent back to my digs. Woke up next day with a very sore arm (apparently I took a fall) and absolutely no money left in my pockets. Another successful night out. I had some real work to do as well though so I didn’t see fuck all else but hell, I don’t like poetry anyway… I will however say congrats to Kelly Lee who kicked arse at the poetry slam on Sat nite – if she was a bloke she’d have balls bigger than mine- in fact I’m not sure that she doesn’t anyway! Now I’m back home trying to finish another manuscript to send out into the great unknown. If I can get it tidied up I’ll have three books floating around the ether at once. Almost justifies me calling myself a writer.

Dean Roberts goes to Jonestown

2006-07-11T19:23:00.000-07:00

July 10th Gallery De La Catessan Anster Street Adelaide
( a review by everyone's favorite eccentric uncle)

De La Catessan is a great little performance space/art gallery run by Luke who happens to also live upstairs – a tiny piece of individuality tucked away in an alleyway in the city centre, let’s hope he can continue to survive. Tonight’s gig featured travelling minstrel Dean Roberts who has been an Autistic Daughter and a White Winged Moth along the way. I first saw Dean a couple of years back on a bourbon soaked afternoon at Synaesthesia in Melburg. It was cramped, hot, sweaty and he played a sublime acoustic, crackling set. Tonite he started with a visual/drone piece as we sat and he manipulated noise from behind us – the visuals flickering on the wall in front. Now, I tend not to pay too much attention to the visuals – usually finding that I can find my own dreamscape for the music. Tonite was no different with a murmuring of crowd noise from one speaker tugging at my memory cells until it dawned on me that it was the Jonestown Suicides filtering thru those speakers. Of course I’m probably the only person in the world that will pick that connection but there you go! The murmuring of the masses not sure whether to believe their messiah or not, the urging of the manic preacher to lay down their lives… then the sudden upsurge in pulse and pressure (not unlike incidently the pulse of Klaus Schulze Black Dance era) reminding me of the frantic need to escape, to live whilst all around the kool aid is being forced down children’s throats and a maniac is preaching death and new life – a relentless pounding of sound that slowly dwindles as life leaves the jungle and all that is left is the buzzing of the flies, the scavengers as they feast on the bodies. Like I said, you probably won’t find anyone else that will see that connection but hey, I’ve never run with the pack.
Local boy Daniel Varrichio was up next, picking up his guitar and earnestly plucking and picking to generate a sparse sound of string and loop. Now I’ve seen Daniel before and usually been impressed but tonite something was lacking – sorry mate. It was sounding like someone trying to do Table Of Elements era John Fahey but instead came out like that terrible Rounder records era- was it rounder? Whatever it was I once owned a cd by Fahey with a title about rainforests or something where he did a bloody Eric Clapton cover! Daniel was drifting dangerously close to that – not as bad but seemingly just as pointless. The second piece though almost redeemed him. Starting with the logical conclusion to da bruddas 1,2,3,4 - a repetition of the nada over and over that drifted into early Tom Verlaine (Hell’s Television era) before Tony Iommi (another good eyetalian boy) kicks in rampaging thru the national anthem black sabbath style – all the while with that verlaine/quine loop running behind egging him on. To be fair to Daniel he did say he’d had two hours sleep (World Cup Final) and hadn’t tackled his guitar in ages.

Dean came back on to finish the evening with a solo guitar set that had me thinking of John Cale circa Fragments of a Rainy Season or maybe Peter Laughner’s solo work but with more control over his emotions and his instrument; why do we seek comparisons anyway? Laziness, ato show how clever and well versed we are with obscure musicians? (In my case it’ to disguise my complete lack of musical ability – I suspect it’s the same with most critics) Here’s a good soundbite for you though – imagine Tim Buckley (Bizaar/straight label era) produced by John Cale. Whatever or whoever it sounded like it was a keening quiet voice accompanied by a tilting, jangling guitar that made you pause and lean in to hear each breath. If nu-folk was actually more like this and less like the aimless hippie jam/clever dickness that its turned into people might pay attention. Extra marks to Roberts for ripping off When I Was Young and admitting it!

I Against I

2006-06-24T16:55:00.000-07:00

Been a long time between blogs… I’ve recently realized how much music doesn’t mean anymore to me. I mean, I still listen to it non stop almost, I still dig out music to play… but none of it is new, it’s all the old stuff I have at the back of the collection or old records I’m rebuying… there’s nothing new. It really dawned on me this week when I found out that The Bellrays (a band I rate extremely highly) have a new album out and are touring the Eastern States. For a nanosecond I thought about going over to Melbourne to see them but then I realized that I haven’t actually played any of their music in at least six months… so why the sudden “oh my god” moment? I haven’t bought the new album yet (I will some day) and I’m not madly trying to juggle dates so I can fly over to see them; does this mean I’ve growed up? I hope not. Of course it could just be the money talking. I can’t really afford to be grabbing new albums all the time, I don’t have the bucks. When I do spend it I’m trying to get the stuff I used to have but have lost or traded or scratched to shit - stuff like Bad Brains, Lemming Project, Corrosion Of Conformity, old jazz stuff… there ain’t nothin’ new that I’ve heard to make me go whoa… what is that?! It’s probably out there somewhere but then again… how many more bloody cds do I need by obscure noisemakers, jazz musicians, dead blues legends???And speaking of noise… Wolf Eyes played the fair burg of Adelaide this weekend. I thought about going but realized that even without the cash shortage I’m currently dealing with, I just don’t rate Wolf Eyes that highly. I’ve heard bits and pieces and sure its noisy, its chaos, its fun but hell its all been done before and better. The album they put out on subpop sucked pretty much… noise for noise sake… quaint but no cigar. So fuck ‘em, I ain’t goin’ instead I’m gonna relax, kick back, suck on the bourbon bottle and watch Friday night fights on espn. A much better way to spend an evening.

Suicide Slappers - less bang for yr buck

2006-04-06T17:53:00.000-07:00

warning warning warning - rood words and titty talk

This past Wednesday which would purport to have been the 5th of April found me at Fowlers Live to see the farce that is described as the Suicide Girls. For those who don’t know who they are – the Suicide Girls are an updated ‘burlesque’ show – slappers getting their gear off to loud rock/punk music and thus freeing themselves from stereotypes, enriching themselves, claiming back their bodies or some bullshit like that. Basically though they’re strippers. But you don’t say that in front of their fans, oh no, this is a serious artform now, this is punk rock, this isn’t just women getting their clobber off for us to perv at, no its much more than that. BULLSHIT! It was a bunch of slappers whipping out their tits for a bunch of teen jerkoffs (male and female)and some horny old men.
Which is fine, I certainly have no problems with that, what got me was that it was $50 a ticket! Yep, a big yellow note bought you a chance to view some punkrock titty but… no photos, no touchee… in fact you had to check in your mobile phone at the door – can’t have any grainy out of focus, taken from the back of the room mobile photos turning up on some nerdy jerkoff blog – that would ruin the value of the official nerdy jerkoff site wouldn’t it. (And no I didn’t pay – I was actually there to see the support act Dr. El Suavo the worlds greatest parlour magician so he got me in for nix. And he did pretty good too despite technical difficulties and the fact he kept his clothes on. The most tragic magic you’ll see but its all old school fun – magic like when we were kids and by the end he even had some new fans I think and at least one more enemy) $50 bucks and the place was still packed… apparently Melbourne is sold out something like a 1000 people. Haven’t these fools heard of Crazy Horse or Hindley Street or any of those other strip joints?! Fifty smackers and you don’t even get to touch a titty? I’m sure if you’d asked half of that crowd they would find strip joints degrading, exploitative, just not right – places for dirty old men and bucks nights… dumb schmucks, they’re standing up the front like it’s a rock gig watching some bimbos shake their arses and take off their tops while down the road some guys probably getting a lap dance and he’s spent the same amount. And he probably got a girl who’s let the scars heal first.
Am I missing something? Is their something liberating about shaking your baps to a bunch of ‘alternative’ nerds and dirty old punks as opposed to business men and drunks? Good luck to the girls if they are getting more money this way as opposed to the strip joints but come on stop ripping off the dumb kids who support you. For fifty smackers they should have at least got to see a sponge bath, a bit of pink maybe or at the very least some poor bastard on stage fumbling with a bra. You’re not fooling anyone really, it ain’t art, its sex for kristsake just admit it. The only liberating was from wallets.And hell, they weren’t that great titties anyway, there were better looking babes in the crowd that I would have rather paid to see strip. Ah well, I guess I’ve just blown my pc cover but then again I wasn’t up the front cheering on the slappers, I just stayed at the bar and nursed my drink. So you tell me, who was getting exploited? Maybe that is the whole point, and maybe the kids deserve it… schmucks!

Always Find Me In The Kitchen At Parties

2006-02-22T18:50:00.000-08:00

Well, it’s been two months exactly since I became a professional lounger and I must say it seems to be going well. I’m certainly not missing work, although the money does of course come in handy. I’m gradually getting the hang of all the domestic chores I should be doing (but am inevitably not doing properly) and I’m writing up a storm (and that’s the most important thing).
Diane seems to have accepted the new regime quite well, in fact in the last month she’s bought me a new washing basket and two new spiffo, Raco brand professional frypans plus matching kitchen tongs! She knows how to look after her man! :)
The toughest part of the job I’ve found is keeping Beth busy with playmates. In previous years at school she has had to stay back in after school care but now I pick her up everyday. This means she wants someone to play with everyday. It sounds easier than it actually is. There’s a lot of organization, a lot of phone calls, lots of diary checking – kids today are just so damn busy! It’s tough keeping her entertained when we get those days where no one is available. Thank god for the WWE – always guaranteed to keep us both amused.
The other big news item is the new computer. Yes, after a decade of abuse the old computer, much like the USSR, has crumbled. Unfortunately I lost my address book in the coup. I’ve managed to rescue a lot of addresses by painstakingly cutting and pasting from my old in/out box but I’ve lost a lot of them. SO… send me an email…cammy@arcom.com.au just so I can put you back in the address book. I don’t need a long message just yer god damn addresses. Thank you and good night. I’ve got some washing to hang out.

And the winner is...

2006-01-07T21:28:00.000-08:00

Okay, so it’s the end of another year and that means the lists roll out. Who am I to break with tradition? There’s been a plethora of music tumbling through the doors of the funhouse – some old, some new, some just plain bad nostalgic wanderings… but these are the 2005 releases that caught my ear the most.

By far the best release for 2005 was (drum roll) The Yearlings – Wind Already Blown. (Check the review for the full details but I love these two – music for the soul)
Honorable mentions - in no particular order other than whatever CD is on top of the pile.

Stuart Busby – Drift only recently came to me otherwise it would have been a strong contender for the top title but hell you need to own it anyway!
Billy Eckstine – Jukebox hits 1943-1953. This series purports to give you the best of the R&B/race charts from the 40s and 50s. With some classic Billy this 21 track comp is a good place to start.
Jon Dale – Son D’Or. Charlemagne meets Frehley? Lush drone’n’wash from a much under appreciated local muso/man about town. (Heck, jon himself doesn’t realise how good he is)
Richard Hell – Spurts. OK, best of’s shouldn’t count I know but shit, Hell still whips all the young punkers asses and this does have a couple of bonus tracks so there!
Laughing Clowns – Cruel But Fair. 3CD set of the complete Laughing Clowns recordings. Despite their insistence that they weren’t a jazz band I beg to differ. Awesome.
GG Alan Bindig – Pirate Lullabies. Acoustic travails of pirates young and old and some interesting choices for covers make this the sleeper of the year. Let it creep up on you.
Fast’n’Bulbous – Pork Chop Blue Around The Rind. Captain Beefheart tribute, all instrumental. Who knew the Captain could swing so hard?
Sir Richard Bishop – Improvika. Sole Sun City Girl shows just what he can do with one string on a wooden guitar. Sublime. (and I’m still kicking myself for not going to Melbourne last year to see him play.)

So there you have it. Too many compilations for my liking but that's what i was buying/finding. There were some other great finds - Irr. Apt. Ext. Caroliner Sun City Girls etc but they weren't technically new releases just found in 2005. If you're really concerned bland out with the wire - i'm sure they'll have it all covered.

Buy buy buy

2006-01-07T20:36:00.000-08:00

As I sit here planning (at least in my head) to do a best of 2005 listing I thought I’d first wet everyone’s appetite with a little look at my last half a dozen musical purchases. If nothing else it will let people know where my head is right now (other than up my arse).
KC & The Sunshine Band – Best Of. I was going through my old 45s – dusting them off and playing them and then my nine year old daughter and I started dancing around the shed to KC and Joe Tex and I realised all I had of KC was one single. In the late 70’s before disco became so popular it threatened to kill off live music, KC & The Sunshine Band were the kings. Motherfunking grooves that hooked you and had you swaying your honky white arse while hummin’ "…I’m your Boogie man, I’m your Boogie Man… turn me on…" He wasn’t disco per se he was dance. He still is. (and yes, my daughter dances better than I do – hell, everybody dances better than I do.)
Exodus – Fabulous Disaster. My fave late eighties thrash metal band. I’ve worn the tape out a couple of times, the records scratched to shit – now I got it on cd and it still brutalises. Fast enough to thrash to but still rock enough to bang yer head to and you can even understand the odd word! Plus a kick arse version of AC/DC’s Overdose and a very twisted Low Rider. This is my kind of metal.
Stuart Busby – Drift. Actually Jon Dale gave me this. Stuart’s last disc "Breathe" was top of my list for 2004 and had I received this a little earlier it would probably top 2005. More ghost world taps from the only trumpeter worth a pinch. Mournful, low and eerie, Stuart creates his own haunted palace of broken dreams.
Various Artists – Motown Classics Gold. The Gold series is a best of series of everyone from Rod Stewart to Kiss to Hank Williams. Some of it’s good, some of it just treads water in a brackish cesspool of regurgitated turds. The Motown classics collection though kicks arse! 40 tracks from the best of Motown, sure there aren’t any rarities or alternate takes (get the box set arsehole) but this has damn near everything you could want to get the party started. I’ve been playing this so much the last three weeks that my daughter already hates it! (Revenge is mine!)
Hellacopters – Payin’ The Dues. I’ve had a dubbed cassette copy of this for years but I never quite got around to buying it. It was my last purchase at Big Star and I’m damn glad I pulled my finger out. The ‘Copters have never bettered this slab o’ garage/blues/drawl. This is what Guns’n’Roses were supposed to be but never had the balls to be. Owing as much to the ‘Stones as to the New York Dolls, the boys never sounded better and probably never will.
Various Artists – American Primitive Vol II. We’ve been waiting since 1997 for the second volume and boy was it worth it. A double disc of obscure and dark poor boy blues, faith healings and prayers to unseeing gods, this has the power to make you doubt everything else you’ve ever heard. There’s the blues and then there’s this. Next time some dumb-arse parasite tries to tell you that bb king or albert collins or (god help us) jeff healey is a blues man, play them this, then when they finish weeping, tell them to get the fuck out of your house!

take this job and shove it

2006-01-02T22:56:00.000-08:00

Yeah it has been awhile ‘tween postings but I haven’t been sitting on my butt… well, okay maybe I have but… I’ve also been… um… working, reading, drinking, quitting… Yep, it’s been a little golden period of discovery the last few months. First, no more radio (well not for awhile)… I’d lost the drive to really get to the station every fortnight, program a show, face the drunks left over from the previous shift (urban cowboys – is there anything dumber? Oh yeah, aussie homeboys who think they live in the Bronx!) Anyway, the show was suffering from my lack of enthusiasm but then GM Holden solved my problem – my car broke down and it just wasn’t worth fixing. Now, this may not seem an obvious out to you but believe me it was enough for me to jump ship. The radio station was too far away and the shift too late at night to rely on Adelaide’s "splendid" public transport system so Matt Krieg is currently handling all duties on the fine ship "Esoteric Circle". Anyone want to give him a hand? I’m sure he’d appreciate it. This doesn’t mean the CDs I get sent don’t get played though – I still pass them on to Matt for airplay and review so keep the good shit coming. The other big news – I quit my job! Yes, that’s right – as of 23rd December 2005 I am now a house husband/professional lounger/ freelance writer. After four/five years at Big Star (not actually sure how long I was there – how sad is that?) I’d just had enough. I like the folk I was working with but the music was no longer fun it was now just a product. Or as Raven at Confederate Mack Zine put it… "commodity masquerading as art/ a substance lacking heart…"
And that was another turning point – a few months back Dann Lennard from BP (bettypaginated.blogspot.com) sent me a couple of copies of Confederate Mack and I immediately identified with this crazed, dreadlocked, 30 something southern white boy/lounger called Raven who sat at an old word processor and let his thoughts on everything from politics to beer to wrasslin’ to philosophy to music to life filter through his beer addled mind and paint stained fingers onto paper and ultimately to me. He struck a chord. I don’t agree with everything he says or likes but damn he’s on the money a lot more than not. He got me thinking - what am I chasing? Skirt, money, power, recognition? I really don’t know but I know what I don’t want (to overuse a very old cliché) and I didn’t want to keep working to make some record company fucker rich who doesn’t even appreciate music, who just sees it all as product, as chart success and another prefab band to milk the kids with. Fuck that. And how’s that for contradiction anyway, since I write for ACP, run by the Packer family – talk about rich fuckers who see everything as a product. Still, it’s one step at a time. If I can drop out even just for a little while I might just get that novel written (or re-written), I might just get time to listen properly to all the good music I have managed to pick up over the last year or so, I might just start to enjoy life. Already after only a week I can feel that something has changed, at least at home. I’m enjoying my daughter’s company, my wife’s company a lot more. I’m cutting down on the drinking (not a bad thing trust me) I’m staying home, I can feel the batteries recharging, the words forming in my head (just need some judicious editing), just little things, but I have the feeling I've made the right choice. As for Raven, well apparently no-one has heard from him for awhile. I know his website is down but who knows, maybe he’s recharging too. 2006 could be a good year or I could go stir crazy, time will tell. One thing I know, I won’t be going nuts worrying about getting shitty product on the shelf and out to the other stores. Fuck Wolfmother, fuck Bernard Fanning, fuck the big day out, fuck the stooges (both on and off the stage)
I quit!! And damn did it feel good (:
kami

The New Cool

2006-01-02T21:51:00.000-08:00

John Stevens Quartet: ‘New Cool’ Emanem 4117
Byron Wallen: trumpet & flugelhorn; Ed Jones: soprano & tenor saxophones; Gary Crosby: double bass; John Stevens drum set rec. August 5th 1992
Here’s a very welcome reissue of a magnificent outdoors concert held at the 1992 Outside In Festival in Crawley, south of London. Jazz / Free Improv drumming godhead John Stevens was in his pomp at this gig, proudly sitting at the back of the tent but very much ‘out front’, driving his talented young lions to great heights of impassioned and intelligent playing, introducing his new group and the glorious ‘freebop rhythmelodics’ that was their stock-in-trade, to the true believers.
I’ll admit, in a moment of pure self-indulgence, that I was there, a gob-smacked twenty-something standing in awe of the great drummer, opening my young ears to the wonderful world of British improvised music and its’ cast of colourful characters and mavericks. John Stevens was a one-off, uncompromising in his music-making ideals, a sometimes difficult individual by several accounts, but ultimately a musician whose buoyant and irrepressible desire to enter the music and its making, yielded many varied and rich musical expressions. Strange to look back and realize that my first and only witnessing of Stevens’ Freebop quintet was, for him, a gig towards the end of a sadly foreshortened career. Stevens died suddenly in 1994, leaving a legacy of intensive experiment, education and inspiration behind.
The John Stevens Quartet marked a departure of sorts for the drummer, with a move back to the music that was knocking him out in the late fifties and early sixties from a number of pivotal and undeniable sources: Ornette Coleman’s early quartet albums, the mid-sixties modal melancholy of John Coltrane ( in this particular case, Lonnie’s Lament provides the inspiration) and the direct contact with the expatriate South African Blue Notes, of whom the late saxophonist Dudu Pukwana was a dominant and much-loved influence.
‘Do Be Up’ is a track that pretty much sums up the musical mindset of Stevens’ band. I mean, why would you bother doing it if your life didn’t depend on it? If you didn’t love peeling back the moment and squeezing out the very marrow of existence? This music is clearly made with joy, and that’s what it clearly expresses, too. Check the sleeve photo of Stevens’ gleeful grin (or is it a jazzman’s so-sweet-it-hurts grimace?) as he eggs the lads on. The Freebop that they play looks simultaneously backwards and forwards, so there’s something here for jazz aficionados who sit on either side of the modernist fence. Byron Wallen and Ed Jones dive in head first with energetic gusto and positively blaze with great warmth and joy throughout the eighty minute set. Gary Crosby’s bass lines trawl the halls of the old masters and remind you that jazz used to be music you could dance to. Stevens seems to lap it all up and spit it back out at us eager listeners, with a diamond geezer’s rough’n’ready sparring that starts with a shove and ends with a lung-busting bear hug. ‘The New Cool’ is great music made by a great band for us to enjoy over and over again.
We can acknowledge, with some gratitude, the dedicated sequence of Stevens reissues (mainly in the form of his evolving collective The Spontaneous Music Ensemble) that Emanem label head Martin Davidson has steadily put back into circulation over the past decade. The New Cool adds one of the last chapters to this vital musician’s tale. Go ahead John Stevens.

Matt Krieg

Sprak! The Sound Of Zombies making love

2005-10-16T20:05:00.000-07:00

It’s been a frenzy of reminiscing in the funhouse the last couple of days… and I do mean frenzy. You see, The Mercury Cinema was showing Lucio Fulci’s 1979 classic gut wrencher ZOMBIE (aka Zombie Flesheaters) as part of some Italian film fest and I just had to see the ol’ rotten flesh tottering around on the big screen. I still remember back in the 80’s hunting down Fulci films, third and fourth generation copies trying to get them uncut and full-gore. Now they’re all being reissued on DVD uncut and cheap! It sort of takes the shine off the hunt and the kids have got it too easy but what the hell, I can’t begrudge them that can I? So, anyway I went along and saw Zombie in all its ‘gory’ on a big screen and it was fun, damn it, good old fashioned fun. From the badly dubbed nonsense (you gotta wonder sometimes if what they say is what the Eyeties really meant or whether it just don’t translate so well) to the cardboard characters to the old school zombie blood, guts and rotten meat, no computer graphics here. (Now, I didn’t stay around for the film student blather after where I’m sure over the free red and pizza I could have heard many a discourse on what Fulci was actually trying to say about urban decay, religious tolerance and the role of the noble savage in today’s world – nah, I fucked off home to get some more beer in and to watch Friday Night Fights on ESPN)
It was a blast from my past and it got me remembering just how much I was into the old splatter pix and zombie flix back in the day. Hell, I used to do a zine called "Splatter Videos & Cult Classicks" – of course I was into this shit. So, last night I went to my local video shop and dug around for some of that good old splat and gore. Found a few too and I’m gonna spend the next week being young again – beer, babe and zombies – I’ll just turn the light off and pretend the couch is the front seat of my old HD Holden.
First off the rank was that classic 1985 flick The RE-ANIMATOR by Stuart Gordon. I remember at the time that he was the next big thing – he was gonna bring the glory back to the monster flick – dunno what happened but he petered out pretty quick for mine. Still, Re-animator stands up remarkably well – The story of Herbert West’s maniacal drive to discover the very essence of life is brought to the screen beautifully by Jeffrey Combs, a more manic young doctor you’d be hard pressed to find. Ably supported by Barbara Crampton (was she hot then or what?) and the rest of the cast this movie was filmed brilliantly, utilising their shortcomings and low budget to make a gritty, dark and at times scary movie while still giving the gore-hounds a solid sprak! o’ grue. Twenty years on and I still got a chuckle from the infamous ‘head’ scene and still love that ending. The effects still hold up, the premise holds up, the cast – it’s all still good. Next week I might just have to watch the Bride…
Unfortunately for me, like all drive in doubles you run the risk of the second flick sucking badly (which I guess is still better than your date sucking badly).
BURIAL GROUND aka Nights of Terror aka Zombie 3 (cash in? never?) was apparently previously banned in this country. Pity they got the ban lifted. Now, look I like zombie flix, especially Italian zombie flix – despite the bad acting, bad dubbing and atrocious make-up. But the good ones at least try and give you some sort of plot, no matter how banal it may be. Zombie for instance has the girl looking for her father, so you have an interest in her welfare, you know who the hero and heroine is, you can understand their motives for being in some godforsaken hole surrounded by weirdos and living dead corpses. Burial Ground forgot that, we don’t give a rat’s arse about the three couples who show up at the house – there is no attempt to give us any background – just a couple of cheap tit shots (b-grade but ok) and some piss poor grue. The only ‘highlight’? is the weird kid and his strange relationship with his mum. That was what got it banned in the first place I’m guessing. Mind you Burial Ground did give us one thing I can’t recall seeing before in the old zombie flix – these zombies used tools! Yep, a sickle, axes, even a battering ram – that was something new (at least in the Italian version). Also, how come all the folk that got chewed on then turned up as zombies at the end. If you get ripped apart by the living dead earlier in the flick how can you show up whole and zombied later? Even monster flix need some sort of ‘reality’. So, there it was, a night at the funhouse drive-in – one good flick, one bad flick, some beer and corn chips, a babe, some topshelf (both on the screen and on the seat) and away home with blue balls and a gut full of suds and salsa – who says you can’t be young again?
Stay tuned for the next trip down mammary lane.
One final tip though – if you are ever going to be accosted by zombies or the flesh eating dead make sure they are Italian not American. You see the Eyetie zombies move much slower – you can get away from them. In fact I can never work out why the victims don’t – hell, some shambling corpse teetering after you and you can’t out run them! They’ve been dead for fucking years people, how hard can it be?

Bukowksi - Born Into This

2005-10-05T04:21:00.000-07:00

Bukowski: Born Into This DVD (Kaleidoscope/Shock)
Directed by : John Cullaghan
Let’s start with the disclaimer – I’ve just watched this DVD again, I’m listening to a Bukowski spoken word cd now and I’m eyeing off the new Buk biography sitting on my left so the chances of this review being unbiased would seem next to impossible. So, why even try?
An eight year labour of love for first time director John Cullaghan, Born Into This is more than just a bio-pic for fans, though of course, we are well looked after. Cullaghan has also managed to show us the poet as well as the drunk, the womaniser, he has remembered the words, the reason why people are so taken with Hank. And that is sometimes, if not mostly, forgotten. Sure he WAS a drunk, a womaniser (though really he was just making up for lost time) but he was first and foremost a writer, a poet, a man who knew how to get the straight line down, knew how to express the life, the hopes, the failures, the drinking, the women, the escapes and the humour, the small victories, the mad laughter of the working class, the underclass, the people you and I step over on our way to the band, the job, parties, class, spoken word gigs, pubs and trains home while pretending to be working class ourselves.
And by talking to those that knew him, old girlfriends, workmates, his wives, writers, directors, his publisher, friends and the odd musician and letting them have their say, interspersed with footage of Bukowksi himself sprouting words and nonsense, drunken banter, truths and lies, Cullaghan has managed to get behind the myth of Bukowski and let us see the man beneath. Including perhaps surprisingly for some, the romantic that lurked beneath the tough man image, the search for love that even the self proclaimed ‘iceman’ succumbed to. Crying during a reading about a former girlfriend, waiting for another girlfriend to come home, like all the old time tough guys from the depression era, beaten down and hurt, all they really want is someone to love them.
As a fanatic I was pretty happy with this documentary (other than the need to find the rest of the footage from the various early docos and interviews) and if I didn’t know too much about this guy, after watching this and hearing his words, I think I’d be looking

Low Life At The Bottom End

2005-09-03T20:37:00.000-07:00

Vinny Golia ‘A Gift For The Unusual’ Nine Winds NWCD0239

Multi-reedist Vinny Golia started the Nine Winds record label in 1977. Back then he played nine different horns. Almost thirty years on, Golia and friends have released dozens of albums that highlight the talents of many contemporary jazz musicians active in the vibrant but undersung North American West Coast scene. And Golia has steadily added numerous wind instruments to his collection. Which brings us to this recent outing on the Tubax, an updated and user-friendly version of the contrabass saxophone, a huge brass beast that sounds off a full octave below the baritone. The fittingly titled ‘A Gift For The Unusual - Music For Contrabass Saxophone’ is a Tubax feature, resplendent with Golia’s solo and small-group adventures around the bottom-end frequencies of the big horn. The lumbering sax receives a full workout across eleven pieces by the fleet-fingered reed maestro, who clearly relishes the idea of presenting a close encounter with such a rarely heard and astonishing instrument. Several solo pieces plunge the listener deep into the subterranean depths of Tubax territory, where brevity provides the best view. The longer solos tend to get bogged down in the sheer mass of sound. The most successful and purely enjoyable pieces place Golia at the centre of small group interactions, whether in boppish duet with longtime collaborator pianist Wayne Peet, or working off Michael Vlatkovich’s agile and expressive trombone work in trio with bassist Bill Casale. Golia is unafraid of unconventional contexts and creates some creepy sci-fi-noir episodes in a couple of pieces that blend Peet’s ghostly theremin and keyboards with cello and double bass, and on another track Bill Barrett’s chromatic harmonica ( possibly the most unusual instrumental combination I’ve heard in a while ). The lugubrious beast also gets to roar on an overdub piece where five Tubax’s fight it out in an arena of punishing sonic extremity. In spite of some confusing track listings, Vinny and the Tubax both come out as winners. There are a million tenor sax sessions out there to choose from, but less than a handful dedicated to the steam train of saxes. It’s unusual and it works. Take the plunge to the bottom. By Matt Krieg
www.ninewinds.com

Funhouse goes on tour

2005-09-03T20:28:00.000-07:00

Well, it’s been a busy ol’ time in the funhouse lately. August has seen two trips to Melbourne, a flying visit to Tasmania and the release of funhouse #3. Yes, after three years of procrastination, funhouse #3 has hit the shelf – your very own hardcopy featuring Ted Bundys Volkswagon, Ian Nagoski, reviews, fiction, pomes and an investigation into Bill Shields – is he all he’s meant to be? All this and free shit too! Available at Big Star Adelaide, Missing Link and Polyester Books in Melbourne or direct from me. ($5 plus postage… so we’ll say $7 Oz or a trade, that sounds fair don’t it?)

As for Melbourne, well as part of The Paroxysm Press travelling circus I travelled o’er to Melb to read at the Overload Poetry Festival. In fact, we were the opening act! Very bizarre night at the Fitzroy town hall with the Mayor opening things and then Paroxysm proceeding to read our usual fare… sex, drinking, fucking up… surprisingly it went down well (must have been the free wine). I also appeared in a debate about ego and poetry, not surprisingly on the side of ego, and we won. Or so I’m told because I remember very little of it! Then to finish the week off we did a gig at Dreams in Carlton with a motley crue of goths, nutters and o’er assorted weird folk, which had that horrible air of doom about it but which turned out to be one of the best gigs I’ve done for awhile. As well as providing us with a memory involving a champagne bottle that will be talked about for years to come. Two weeks later we were back in Melbourne to launch the latest Paroxysm Press anthology "Waste" at the Melbourne Writers Festival. A very salubrious affair, well attended and a damn fine time had by all. Of course being in Melbourne I spent far too much money on music (Sun City Girls, Caroliners, Irr. App. (Ext), Penelope Houston) so expect some reviews to pop up soon. All in all a busy month but productive, now I’ve got to work my butt off to repay my credit card, the curse of the itinerant poet.
Now does anyone know of a writer’s fest in New Zealand?
Kami

Glitches Brew

2005-08-02T16:09:00.000-07:00

Glitches Brew as Freedom and Formalism blend with new Electronic adhesive.
Trio x 3 ‘New Jazz Meeting Baden - Baden 2002’ Hatology 2 – 607
Steve Lacy: soprano saxophone Peter Herbert:double bass Wolfgang Reisinger: drums Marcus Weiss: tenor & soprano saxophone Phillipe Racine: flute Paulo Alvares: piano Bernhard Lang: piano Christof Kurzmann: electronics Philip Jeck: turntables

Absorbing and exploratory music from the echoing border zones. Three fringe traditions ( avant jazz, contemporary composition and electronic music ) converge in a fascinating series of studio and live pieces that use Bernhard Lang’s piece ‘Differenz / Wiederholung 1.2’ as a basis for creating new organizations of sound. It is an unusual idea that works well. All fifteen tracks from this 2+ hour double cd provide the inquiring listener with a constant stream of fertile and engaging music, gradually unfolding a dense and active landscape that breathes with life and vitality.
Lang’s rhythmically complex composition is played by the Weiss/Racine/Alvares new music trio in four sections at different stages across the two discs, and is then constantly remixed, deconstructed, stretched, squeezed and twisted into a multitude of new forms as the improvisers alchemise the original source. All of the musicians’ earlier familiarisation with the original piece presumably enabled insight into the contours of its potential as a vehicle for mutation and extension. The resulting music is not purely free improvisation nor is it strict or even loosely constructed formalism, more something of both, from which another presence is born. Different size groupings, from solo up to the full nine-piece group offer another series of possibilities for instrumental variations on the central theme. Lang’s composition may be the only solid material that connects all of these excursions, but it is rendered unrecognisable for much of the time, with key phrases or textures appearing out of the mix as further material on which to launch improvising forays.
The balance of traditional acoustic and digital electric sources is sustained throughout. Lacy’s tinder dry, discursive melodic line is the perfect counterpoint to the loops, chugs, samples and multiple textures of the electronicists. Philip Jeck’s acetate sources are played out and manipulated in glorious lo-fi on ancient, decaying turntables. He is best heard in a long solo prelude of processed flute loops, surface buzz and layered dislocations, before a quartet of Jeck/Lacy/Herbert/Reisinger assembles for a long, slow climb towards a pulsating electronica-meets-jazz apotheosis. A studio-based Jeck/Kurzmann/Herbert/Weiss quartet explores a minimalistic ghost town loop-scape at length, while the apex performance would have to be the eight minute nonet recorded in concert at Karlsruhe, where a trio of trios listens hard and roams eagerly towards destination unknown. Clichéd as it might sound, you can actually listen to this music over and over again and discover new insights. Polymathic fertility this creative is rarely dull and almost always ripe with colourful incident.
Good and surprising music abounds on this adventurous collaboration. Organisers of the Baden – Baden New Music Meeting are to be congratulated for running with an interesting idea, selecting nine divergent but ultimately compatible musicians, ensuring necessary preparation / rehearsal time and arranging several sessions for these players to blow their and our collective ears and minds away. What’s more, it’s an enjoyable experiment that you’ll want to fully explore. Some clever on-paper notions end up sounding like academic exercises that communicate little. Not so for this great slab of sound. Glitches combine with the written note and merge with abstract swing to bring distinct listening pleasure and the shock of the new. Hats off to Hat!
Matt Krieg

contact

2005-07-17T09:27:00.000-07:00

I've noticed that you can't reply to anything here unless you's got yourself a name etc, (only took me a few months!) if you do want to say something or say hello or tell me i know nothing you can always do it direct - just email me cammy@arcom.com.au

Golden Years Revisited - Matt comes on board

2005-07-10T10:32:00.000-07:00

John Surman: ‘Way Back When’ Cuneiform Records, Rune 200
Rec. October 1969
Cuneiform is a trusty US label that does a roaring trade in contemporary American jazz, and modern progressive rock. They’ve also cornered the market in re-releasing important and long-lost albums from the fertile late 60’s / early 70’s British Jazz scene, what some might call the ‘Golden Years of Brit-Jazz’. The catalogues of Soft Machine, Elton Dean and Chris McGregor’s Brotherhood of Breath have all been given overdue attention in the past few years with a steady string of excellent reissues. Cuneiform continues to assiduously document British music that has long-since disappeared from sight, and occasionally digs up tapes that have never seen the light of day. John Surman’s ‘Way Back When’ is an example of great music that has been buried for decades, a previously unreleased album that finally reaches our ears. ‘Way Back When’ will transport you directly back to late 1969 and the eve of the jazz-rock revolution. Surman checked into Tangerine studio in London with some mates for one final blow before packing his bags and relocating to Belgium to join The Trio with Barre Phillips and Stu Martin. The electro-space jazz of Miles Davis’ ‘In A Silent Way’ is never far away in the four-part ‘Way Back When’ suite which opens the album. After a simple twelve-note dervish theme, Surman flails on soprano sax with his customary boiling intensity. Cascades of multidirectional sound pour forth from his horn as he rides some very late-60’s sounding vamps, replete with juicy Fender Rhodes from old stablemate John Taylor, the plummy electric bass of Brian Odgers and John Marshall’s metronomic pulse. Mike Osborne joins the group on alto sax for the final two numbers ‘Owlshead’ and ‘Out And About’. Both are more open-ended jams that leave plenty of time and space for Surman to launch on the baritone, Osborne adding fire to the brew with his own brand of wailing. ‘Way Back When’ is invigorating, exuberant and alive to the possibilities of jazz integrating with rock, made at a time when those worlds were just beginning to collide. It’s a very welcome addition to Surman’s large discography and well worth tracking down. Thumbs up, Cuneiform. Keep digging!

Sophie Agnel / Olivier Benoit: ‘Rip – Stop’ In Situ, IS 237
In Situ is a Paris-based label documenting different zones of musical activity in contemporary jazz and free improvisation. ‘Rip – Stop’ features the deep listening interactions of Sophie Agnel on piano and devices, and Olivier Benoit on guitar and electricity. This is excellent free music in the tradition of AMM, a generally pulse-less series of solid mirages that seem to emerge up out of the earth and linger close to the surface, almost subliminally, before sinking back into the background noise of the everyday. The musicians play as a singular entity and generate sound from multiple points across their instruments. Rumbling drones and percussive scrapes provide a plateau of scapes on which any number of textural manipulations and interjections occur. Silence is the central canvas for these sounds, etched with a calm and deliberate hand. The balance between the familiar timbres of piano and guitar, and a multitude of noises of more dubious origin, make for a listening experience that suggests a protean nether world where the known and unknown coexist. Four assemblages of roughly equal length drift across divergent zones of volume and slow-motion turbulence. Each joins the other to form a block of sound that is impressive in its simplicity and beautiful in its quality. Those who appreciate AMM’s tectonic universe are strongly encouraged to lend an ear to this younger duo’s obvious ability to listen together, explore sound, extend their instruments and create music of humble integrity. Listen to the sound of time dissolving here.
Reviews by Matt Krieg

Stan Kenton - Artistry In Rhythm

2005-07-06T20:10:00.000-07:00

It was my father who first introduced me to jazz, simply by playing it when I was around. In my late teens and early twenties I started listening to Miles, Monk, Coltrane, Bird… the bop and post-bop era. My father’s musical taste however was rooted more in the 40’s and 50’s big bands, swing jazz and balladeers. There was of course cross overs, we both loved Kind Of Blue, early Coltrane, Dizzy but in the main we were interested in different styles of jazz. I should point out too that my father was an original "Bodgie" and had been featured in the local paper as an example of the evils of zoot suits and cool jazz. A fact he was quite proud of.
It wasn’t until my father died and I inherited his quite substantial record and CD collection that I really started to listen to the music that he liked. Artists like Billy Eckstine, Errol Garner and Stan Kenton. I’d given them cursory listens before but never really paid too much attention. They were good sure but I was still entranced by Miles’ trumpet lines, Bird’s sax, the fracture of Monk and Mingus. Eckstine’s rich baritone had yet to drag me in and enchant me, Kenton’s bombastic swing just seemed loud and slow. But with time now to listen properly and a collection of their best works in front of me I was discovering the real music and style that was there all the time just waiting for me to catch up.
Stan Kenton in particular was a revelation. Like bop, free jazz, rock and roll, the hippy movement, punk, house, etc Kenton’s music and ideas were ignored and misunderstood by the critics, the press and his peers. He was trying to push the boundaries of what was accepted as swing, as jazz and as popular music. He was incorporating polytonal concepts based on Stravinsky and Bartok. He called his band The Progressive Jazz Orchestra; he made sure his band was louder, bigger and harder than everyone else. He wasn’t short on ideas or ego. But he was also commercially astute enough to record songs that he knew would be hits. There was in fact an almost schizophrenic schism in the band, especially when you look back now over the music and see the track listings that include his more serious compositions like "Concerto To End All Concertos" and "Opus In Pastels" next to novelty songs (and big sellers) like "Across The Alley From The Alamo" and "Shoo Fly Pie & Apple Pan Boogie".
He was also possibly the harbinger of rock and roll although I’m sure he wouldn’t have wanted to be thought of as such a barbarian. But his early work in the early and mid 40’s with tracks like Artistry in Rhythm, Eager Beaver, Machito and especially Artistry Jumps foreshadowed the 3 minute rock song’s formula of build up, crescendo and dissolve by a good ten years. And he hit hard, loud and fast.
When Kenton’s band first started playing, it was the white kids, the college boys that got into his music. The critics, the owners of the clubs, other musicians, they didn’t think much of his style. It was too loud, too raucous, you couldn’t call it swing it was too noisy and fast but the kids, they flocked to see the band play. It wasn’t long before the club owners, who personally didn’t understand the popularity of Kenton’s music, were booking him simply because of the crowds the band were drawing. That was the thing about Kenton, the point that the critics, his peers, the purveyors of what was fashionable missed. It was the kids that found Kenton, discovered his music, his power. It wasn’t something their parents understood or liked, it was music that was panned and criticised by the press, it was unfashionable and looked down upon. Who could resist that? It was rock and roll, before rock and roll existed; same feelings, same presence, same empowerment. This was music that belonged to them. And if along the way Stan had some high falootin’ ideas about structure and sound, form, theories on music and its unfortunate categorisation, well that was fine too. They were college kids; they could enjoy the bombastic power and motion as well as understand his theories and ideals.
And it has only really been in the last decade or so that Kenton has really been given his place in jazz history. Sure he was recognised by Downbeat back in the 50’s and given a place in the hall of fame, but there was always a certain amount of resistance in the 60s and 70s to actually admitting that his music was anything more than loud, crass and stilted. The age of the compact disc changed all that. Now the critics and the public could re-enter the Kenton zone and rediscover songs like Peanut Vendor, Alamo, The Artistry tracks and they discovered that he stood the test of time pretty well. And that the fucker could swing with the best of them, when HE wanted to. It also allowed the discovery of his more ambitious projects like City Of Glass. A concept album based more on classical motifs than jazz. An album who’s music is supposed to represent the motion, movement and life of a city. Recorded in 1951 this is one album that has withstood the test of time and still sounds rich and exciting today, drawing you into a city of discoveries, of flowing modes and styles.
Now I know Stan Kenton is white, unfashionable, didn’t do drugs or o.d. or go insane or change the face of music so therefore totally uncool to name drop or to listen to but trust me on this. Grab a six pack, a copy of "Opus In Pastels" [Jazz Roots CD 56023] and sit back and really listen. Oh yeah and turn the fucking thing up loud! That's as good a place to start as any. And when you’ve drunk all six beers put Artistry Jumps [track 1] on repeat and tell me that ‘ain’t rock and roll.
I’d recommend the 4CD box set that came out on Capitol but you might not be ready for that just yet. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got a Billy Eckstine concert to listen to.

Running With The Boss Sound

2005-06-21T19:48:00.000-07:00

An update from the funhouse. Yeah, I’m still here, just busy doin’ somethin’ next to nothin’ but different than the day before… Hey , there’s a song in there somewhere.
Actually I have been doin’ somethin’ – after the launch of the Waste anthology (which I am in by the way, did I tell you? One of my better stories too – check it out at http://www.paroxysmpress.com/) where was I? Oh yeah, well after that story I’ve been working on the next novel – Fists Of Love – which is completed and is just waiting for me to find time to get it presentable for submission (somewhere). And then on the last long weekend I entered a 3 day novel race – yes, that is correct, you had to write a novel in three days! You could do an outline and research before then but no actual novel writing. And guess what? I nailed the sucker. Granted, it was a shortish novel, some 22000 words or so but it just poured out in a couple of days and, all modesty aside, it ain’t too bad. A post WWIII novel about a world where the biggest industry is "peace-keeping" and you are sent to the slums if you don’t conform, it’s my rock’n’roll pulp fiction gang war novel with an unashamed rock bias and characters like Dr Feelgood, Jason B Sad, Candy-O and Marky De Sade. I spent the entire weekend listening to Turbo Negro, Motley Crue, Exodus, Divine Horsemen and The Yearlings and it couldn’t have worked out better. Coffee and rock and roll – who the hell needs speed? Unfortunately the winner isn’t announced until October but I’m happy with it regardless. If it doesn’t get anywhere in the comp, I’ll just clean it up and submit it somewhere else.
On the music front I’m happy to officially welcome back onto the Esoteric Circle Matt Krieg who started the damn show some ten or so years ago before taking a well earned rest a couple of years back. Matt’s recharged his batteries, cranked up the enthusiasm and is now sharing the radio with me on a fortnightly basis. For those who don’t know what the hell I’m talking about – Esoteric Circle is a radio show we present on 3D radio (93.7fm) here in Adelaide on a Monday night. It’s on 9-11pm and we play the best in new music, improv and jazz. Matt’s more the improv guy, I play the weird shit (in a nutshell). If you’ve got something you think we’d like to hear, snail mail me at PO Box 278 Edwardstown South Australia 5039. We have wide and varied tastes believe me. Right now I’m cranking up the latest Scorch Trio Album Luggumt (Rune Grammafon) – a great blast of jazz fusion rock with a guitarist, Raoul Bjorkenheim, who really knows how to pull everything out of those strings. Tomorrow it’ll probably be Bon Jovi (I blame the full moon) or the Turbo Negro Tribute and then when I go to bed it’ll be Bernhard Gunter. So you see, we enjoy our music in the funhouse, it doesn’t have to be hip or this month’s flavour it just has to be good. (Ok, ok Bon Jovi isn’t good but I can’t find my Warrant CD)
Now if I can just get Matt to write those reviews he promised me, we can both stop feeling guilty.
And to finish, a shameful plug (or two) – on Thursday 30th June I’m reading at the Lizard Lounge in Hindley Street Adelaide for those of you who wish to brave the elements. Starts at 7pm, goes till 9pm and then apparently there’s live jazz afterwards. Sounds like a night out. Also, for the sports-minded amongst you I have another blog – http://www.rrrrrumble.blogspot.com/ - it’s a boxing blog (my other passion)
So you see I haven’t been entirely slack, I just haven’t been loyal is all. I guess I’m just not made out to be a one blog man.

Killing Of Miss Argentina

2005-05-22T03:11:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know there has been a gap ‘tween blogs – I wish I had a legitimate excuse but I don’t really. Other than the fact I’ve not bought anything new of late nor received anymore wonderful ‘care’ packages and I guess work has kept me busy. (Oh and I moved house so everything is in boxes. Does that count as an excuse?) Anyway, I haven’t been totally slack. For those who live in this fair city of Adelaide there is a book launch on Thursday 26th May at Jive 181 Hindley Street West. The book is an anthology called ‘WASTE’ put out by Paroxysm Press and I have a (long) short story in it. I’m in extremely good company too with the likes of Luke Davies, Hop Dac and Shane Jesse Xmass amongst others. The launch kicks off at 8pm with readings from Miss Jessie, Kerryn Tredrea, Hop Dac, Martin Downey and myself plus music from Home For The Def. Hop and Martin are coming over from Melbourne to read so get your arse out of the easy chair and come on down. The Ministry Of Shit Sound System will be pumping out the best in drum’n’noise, crash’n’burn, scratch’n’sniff for your drinking/dancing entertainment to finish off the evening. All this for a gold coin donation! (and of course the chance to be the first on your block to own a copy of Waste.) So I haven’t been totally lazy honest… and when the bloody novel is finished you can come to that launch. So, Karl, see you there Thursday?

Fast And Bulbous Meets The Geographers

2005-04-13T19:15:00.000-07:00

Yo Miles! – Upriver 2xCD (Cuneiform)
Henry Kaiser & Wasasa Leo Smith lead a stellar band through the electric/electic era Miles Davis sound o’ the 70’s. Not a tribute band but a homage these guys are adding to the directions Miles took and making them their own. And hell, besides Toshinori Kondo (or however the hell its spelt) who else but Smith could tackle Miles electric era? Same pallete, brighter paints - Smith & Kaiser just rage and rip through everything from Bitches Brew to Yesterfunk and throw in a couple of their own compositions too just to show that they have got the licks, the grace, the style to make this sound their own.

Machine & The Synergetic Nuts – Leap Second Neutral CD (Cuneiform)
Jap prog rock band inspired by the likes o’ Zappa (especially Zappa), Soft Machine and 70’s fusion jazz. Not sure whether I dig this or not, there are moments that sound so much like Frank Zappa that they stop me in my tracks to check the disc and then there are arse kicking rockout/jazz frenzies that make me wanna dance and bang my head. I guess that means I do dig it.

Fast ‘N’ Bulbous – Pork Chop Blue Around The Rind CD (Cuneiform)
This Captain Beefheart Tribute led by Phillip Johnston and featuring Gary Lucas has done away with the good Captain’s growling vocals and surreal lyrics to concentrate on the music with a horn section subbing for his voice. And in doing so they’ve made us realise just how good the music was. Beefheart wasn’t just some madman making a stew of blues/rock/calypso/sludge with an acid backdrop – this stuff swings like a fucker! Takes a listen or two to get into it but when you do you’ll be jiving your arse off around the house.

EMANEM (NOT THE (c)RAPPER)

The trouble with Emanem is they just put out too much damn stuff for a mere plebian like me to ever keep up with. And I love most of it but find it very hard to describe. Lately I’ve realised though that I prefer the smaller combos (the duets, trios) to the bigger outfits where the improv just gets too messy for me. That means the latest care package from Martin Davidson was a corker. Three albums, all duo recordings, all different, all tasty. And it’s been a long while since simply opening a parcel could make me smile and rush home to the cd player but the sight of Anthony Braxton & Milo Fine’s Shadow Company album had me doing just that. Duelling sax, clarinet, piano, drums live and improvised for a full hour and it never gets dull. These two play off each other beautifully. Next in the batch was Clive Bell & Sylvia Hallet -Geographers CD. Having already had a taste of this duo on the Freedom Of The City Small Groups 2004 disc where they were easily my favourite grouping I was looking forward to hearing a full album. They don’t dissapoint. A mixture of pipes, percussion, electronics, violin and more this is a subtle, sweet sound that draws you in amidst clank and quiver and borderline exotica. Another fine example of ghost world recordings. The third CD was The Butterfly And The Bee from Roger Smith (Guitar) and Louis Moholo-Moholo(Percussion). It is both unfair and bad luck for them that they arrived with the other two albums cos they’ve barely had a look in. Again though, they show that free improv isn’t just loud – it’s subtle, it’s space and quiet, it’s recognising the gaps and using them, the silence as much as the roll of brush or clatter of blocks, the plunk of strings, the run of frets – on any given day any one of these albums will lift your spirits and in this day and age that’s all you can ask for.

Low Rent Boys, Ace Frehley and Gimps on Acid

2005-03-14T22:04:00.000-08:00

Erini – Being Alive and Happy CDR
A one song cdr that makes searching through the dross almost worthwhile. Erini has come up with a simple ditty about what’s good about life. Backed by a simple drum pattern and synth she talks us through her day with a naivety and innocence that
makes the whole dang thing work beautifully. Simplistic, joyful, sweet – words I would rarely use to describe music I listen to but this song strikes a chord. Hell, if we can have brut art why not brut music? I now wait with baited breath for the ‘double album’ – Yep, two songs next time!

Armpit – Butta Daze CDR (Celebrate Psi Phenomena)
Nine scorching tracks that sound like some rock band hanging around the beach trying to impress the chicks with their hot guitar licks and wild ways only the ‘mandies’ have kicked in and they’re playing much slower than they imagine. Don’t hear too many girls screaming for more but the seagulls seem impressed. Got my copy thru Dual Plover (www.dualplover.com) you should do the same before you next hit the sand.

Rebirth of Fool Vol 2 – Various Artistes (Dual Plover)
And speaking of Dual Plover – this compilation is a feast of madness, stupidity and the sort of gimps I’ve rallied against who should never be allowed near cd burners. Thing is though, the damn thing is just so entertaining that I can forgive their gimpness, even their choice of covers. Prank calls, bad covers, cut and slap, throw this on at your next family BBQ and wait for the straitjackets to come out.

RHIZOME ZONE – Three recent releases by Rhizome and not a naff note ‘tween them – e-mail therhizomelabel@hotmail.com you won’t regret it
Armpit – Mano o Mano CDR (Rhizome)
In the back of this brothel they have a ‘chillout’ area, complete with musical instruments, coffee machine and TV, for the low rent boys to hang out and jam between paying ‘gigs’. Guitars get plucked, stroked and caressed while the boys watch bad South American soapies via satellite, drink strong coffee and wash their smalls. It’s a slow, drawling jam session of guitar and failed hopes as they wait to see how the stories unfold.
Jon Dale – Son D’or CDR (Rhizome)
One track only but time becomes irrelevant as the slow drone of an organ rises and falls, joined by the spattering misfire of guitar hum and I find myself thinking of both Charlemagne Palestine and Ace Frehley. Because I find myself humming Frehley’s ‘fractured mirror’ everytime I listen to this disc. Is it subliminal? A cunning plot by Mr. Dale, plying us with face paint and retro rock without us even knowing it? I know not, but I’ll keep listening, hoping for clues.
Sakada – Askatuta CDR (Rhizome)
Who said electronica is cold? Prevost, Erkizia and Mattin have bludgeoned that theory to death and this is the sound of electronica’s still warm corpse being dragged across the tundra on a dog sled, glacial drippings echoing thru yr head as the chains they whip the dogs with create howls of feedback and pain. Okay so I’m getting a bit pretentious here but since I’m not a big fan of ‘traditional’ electronica, finding it very simplistic, dull and yes, cold I was surprised at the noise and scope that these three have created. With the headphones turned up, waiting for the scrapings and noodling to erupt into chain whippings and howls of pain I was on the ice and I don’t even take drugs – imagine what it could do for you.

Did You Want Fries With That?

2005-02-21T20:08:00.000-08:00

I really believe that working in a CD shop is killing my love of music.
But you’re surrounded by music, you get to play what you want, you get to meet bands, get tickets to gigs… how can that be bad?, you say. Okay, I’m not surrounded by music for a start, I’m surrounded by product. And every week there’s more product, be it big releases or a crap cdr by some gimp you’ll never hear of again – it’s all product, very little love (okay, maybe the gimps do put love into it – I’ll get back to them). It’s just marketing, label pushing, free t-shirt with the first hundred, get your poster, tour edition, special dvd copy etc etc ad nauseam. And as for the bands – there just people in my way, they come in, do a signing, play a few songs, pose for the purty pictures, drink our beer, and then go – they ain’t that exciting as people, they’re just more work.
Of course if we had some decent bands doing in stores I might be happier but the likes of Gerling, Michael Franti, Tea Party, Missy Higgins etc do fuck all for me. Like I said, it’s just more work. I’ve been around too long I guess, seen too many bands, heard too many bands, and the new stuff does nothing for me – I can pick the influences, I can hear the songs they’ve ripped off, I don’t care how much triple j plays them, I think they’re all talentless gimps.

And as for the ‘alternative’ set, the people in the ‘know’ who don’t follow ‘trends’ - this week it’s soul, last week it was electronica, next week it’ll be jazz… sheep leading sheep getting fucked by wolves. The only interesting music is the stuff falling between the cracks, the stuff you have to look for – and these days it seems nobody wants to look too hard anyway. And I’m probably just as guilty sometimes as everyone else is. I get lazy, I ask others for their opinion – but I also look for things, I listen to things, and occasionally I luck into things whether it’s kindling label or black oak arkansas or erini… it’s out there, you just have to find it – unfortunately it’s rarely in the cd shops or the magazines or the street press. No all you’ll find in there is product – it ain’t burgers but it’s getting closer all the time.
Just look at the Big Day Out this year – as lame and bland a line up as they’ve ever managed to put together and yet it sold out Australia wide! Why? Because mediocrity rules, because bland is so non-threatening, so safe that everyone can go and not feel threatened by their own lack of musical knowledge, or their own lack of ability. Now they can imagine themselves on stage. After all if powderfinger and dallas crane can do it why can’t we? There’s no chance of anything exciting or interesting happening, no surprises, nothing that could make them think a bit or break them out of that nice piss-warm cocoon they’ve all settled into. We don’t think we just buy. Now, did you want fries with that album?

Oh yeah, I said I’d get back to the gimps with their self released cdr’s. Well, see the problem as I see it is that with the new technology anybody can have an album out now- there is no stopping you.*
It used to be that the best rose to the top and the others released a bad demo tape and disappeared, waiting to be collected years later by obscure European labels. But now, every fucker with a computer thinks he’s a star – and maybe he is, this is the age of Aussie Idol and Popstars after all. There’s just no quality control at all now and it’s getting to be hardwork sorting through the dross to look for the gems.
* (Just like anybody can have a blog I guess – we’re all gimps)

SONGS OF FAITH AND DEVOTION - The Yearlings

2005-02-09T02:49:00.000-08:00

The Yearlings (Chris Parkinson & Robyn Chalklen) have long been a favourite in the funhouse shed. Of course we hold them dear to our hearts ‘cos we first unleashed them onto the world – or at least to the 100 odd folk who purchased funhouse #2 for the cdr (Now I Wanna Be Your Stooge - A Stooges Tribute) that came with it. You see The Yearlings, then in the clever guise of "Chris & Bob", recorded a rousing bluegrass version of Raw Power for this tribute to the stooges that blew damn near everyone who heard it away. I knew Chris through work and knowing he was a muso, suggested he might want to record something for the tribute. What I didn’t expect was for him to completely rearrange Raw Power and play it with such beauty and passion that they managed to claim the song as their own. That recording was The Yearlings first outing. After that I made it my duty to see them play live as often as I could and to tell everyone who would (or wouldn’t) listen they should be seeing them too. Many friends were dragged to the pub to see this band who I could only describe as "acoustic, not country, not bluegrass, something else…" In the end I settled for "pure". It was the only word I could think of to express how I felt about them. Because they aren’t country (Tamworth rejected them), they aren’t strictly bluegrass, (too middle class for that!), they’re an amalgam of styles, of the picking of early folk, of country when it told stories and didn’t need tight pants or hokey videos, of songs on the front porch, of friendships… It’s two people (a couple) on a stage surrounded by acoustic guitars, playing songs, telling stories and letting you into their world for an hour or so. Because even if we weren’t there you just get the feeling these two would be doing this anyway, in fact I know they would. This is what they live to do, play and sing and enjoy the day. They share simple stories, tiny moments of the day to day, old folk songs, porch tunes and friendly banter and we just happen to be there to hear them as well. Hell, I even had them play my fortieth birthday. At which they ripped through a set of seventies covers in their own Yearlings style, with Chris once again rearranging everything from Skyhooks to Black Sabbath to make them their own. (And I don’t mean in that hokey Hayseed Dixie style, I mean so you wouldn’t recognise them instantly as someone else’s song but instead think that they were their own)
Now with the release of their second album Wind Already Blown (Thru Shock) you can hear the purity of The Yearlings as well. Already contender for album of the year, the beauty of their songs loses nothing in the studio, I still can’t get over how good they are, how pure it all remains – two guitars, two voices, harmonies and the feeling you’ve dropped into a private conversation but it’s all okay, they forgive you anyway. Over the last couple of years I’ve noticed Robyn become a lot more confident in herself and her ability on stage and off and that’s reflected here in her playing and in her lyrics. Chris has always been seen I guess as the main force in this duo because of his great playing. He is a guy who loves his guitar – hell, any stringed instrument – if it’s got strings he can play it but Rob is definitely not playing second fiddle (ha ha). This is the album I think that will make people realise that – she always was the better singer anyway but now the strength of her songwriting abilities, her own work on guitar have grown considerably and this album shows it. There are lines in Fallen Star, Trouble Some More, Dirty Wings that I wish I had written – hell, I might just pinch them one day anyway.
But what is their style? I know I still haven’t really said it – I don’t know that I can. It is definitely based in country but it’s old country music with some early american folk, bluegrass, maybe even a touch of acoustic blues thrown in – it comes back to that word – PURE. It is what it is, nothing more. They play because it’s what they do and we are blessed that we are allowed to witness it.
Look I’m a cynic, an athiest, a drunk, a womaniser and a basic prick but these guys never fail to lift me up, to make me believe in something, even if it’s only temporary. But the power of friendships, love, of enjoying life – when I listen to The Yearlings I can briefly believe and imagine that it is all possible. If they can do that for me imagine what they can do for you.

2004 - A Year To Remember?

2005-01-08T19:48:00.000-08:00

2004 overview
I guess it’s the done thing to look back over the year – best releases, gigs, etc but this was a year where the lows easily beat the highs so I’m not sure about highlights per se – let’s just see how it goes.

The year started well with the opportunity of presenting Merzbow in Adelaide. This was courtesy of his tour for the What Is Music? Festival and my bosses at Big Star – a record shop I work for in Adelaide. (Record shop – shit that shows my age!) The guys behind W.I.M. were looking for a suitable venue/promoter and somehow it fell into my lap – I tell you it’s great being a promoter with other people’s money too. Anyway, Merzbow came, played in the Big Star basement – ably supported by local acts Isomer and Bonsai Kitten – and we got a good crowd. No one really made money, but no one lost any either and Adelaide got to hear some truly sonic noise from one of the best. Funniest moment was picked Masami up from the airport where his first request was to be taken to Kangaroo Island! Unfortunately time did not permit so we took him for a tour of the zoo instead. When I saw him a few days later in Melbourne, he wasn’t concerned about the gig he’d done in between in Perth, he just wanted to tell me he had got to hand feed some kangaroos. I was in Melbourne for the What Is Music? Fest, where not only did I get to see Masami once again assault my senses but also caught Keiji Haino thrashing drum, guitar and eardrums. Unfortunately I was too drunk and just plain too tired to stay for the whole set but I heard (and saw footage) that he just kept on going and going – like that bloody bunny in the battery ad, he just never stops. While in Melbourne I also got to see the cabaret act that passes for Whitehouse at the Corner Hotel– very disappointing. However supporting them was the Von Crapp family who assailed us with noises, poetry and random madness – truly, the family that plays together, stays together. Another unexpected highlight was catching Dean Roberts playing at Synaesthesia – music shop to the stars. Stinking hot day, windows closed, sauna like atmosphere (if you haven’t been to Synaesthesia it’s the size of a breadbox) but exquisite guitar.
The Merzbow gig went so well that later in the year, Big Star got the chance to present Francisco Lopez (thanx Greg). Again, word of mouth, great sound (thanx Dave), no one made money, no one lost and the small crowd got an outstanding show with Music Of Transparent Means offering fine local support. (A brief aside here, none of this would have happened without Jon Dale. Both shows came together with his help and knowledge, many thanks Jon) So, I guess I can add promoter to my meager resume as well now.

Music wise, it was the year of reissues for me with the Sun City Girls Eclipse vinyl being a high priority as well as Atavistic’s great reissues of the Flesheaters with bonus tracks and all the Billy Eckstine I could get my hands on (vinyl, Cd and finally DVD!).
Of the newer stuff that rattled my bones, Stuart Busby’s Breathe 3" on Kindling was far and away the best thing all year. Strangely enough the next best has strong links to Kindling too – Lost Domain’s Something Is… CDR on Rhizome features the Kindling folk in other guises giving Sunburnt Hand and all the other "Weird Amerikka" bands a taste of what free folk/psychedelic blues should sound like. Neither Kindling or Rhizome have disappointed me yet (maybe they just hide the bad releases from me?).
Emanem put out a couple of crackers too – the trouble with this label is simply that there’s just so much to absorb- but the standouts for me would have to include Three Planets by John Russell/Ute Volker/Mathieu Werchowski – guitar, accordian and violin recorded acoustically – sublime sounds perfect for thundery late nights and Fred Lonberg-Holm’s Dialogs simply because I’m a sucker for cello right now, even when it’s being manipulated, pasted, reverbed and turned into something new. Then there’s the Parker/Schlippenbach/Lytton America 2003 cd on Psi. Talent like this can not be faulted.
Willy Deville’s latest offering Crow Jane Alley (Eagle Records) found him returning to form with a slather of New Orleans/swing/blues/cut throat cool that may not touch me like the first time I heard Cabretta but still beats damn near anyone else in the same parking zone (if there is anyone else). The only fault I can find is that the production is just a little to slick at times, it needs the rough edges that the Live In Berlin cd offered to make it really hit you.
Of course, the Albert Ayler box set has to be mentioned if only to show how cool I am. A great box, great music but it’s only just come out so it’s hard to really judge it yet. The best box set for me in 2004 was Miles Davis – Complete Jack Johnson Sessions on Sony. I know, technically it came out near the end of 2003 but you need a good six months to appreciate it anyway! Unreleased Sonny Sharrock, Miles at his kick arse rock’n’roll peak – worth every penny.

Disappointments would include the aforementioned Whitehouse gig, the fact that Sun City Girls aren’t coming to Australia in 2005 for What Is Music, finding out Sunburned Hand Of Man don’t live up to the hype – nor do Wolf Eyes for that matter and that Bananafish is no more. And, of course the fact that Julie Dalia still hasn’t released a new album. Still, compared to the real world none of that stuff matters anyway.

Because 2004 wasn’t all fun and music. A good friend committed suicide, and though I understand her reasons I’m not sure I’ve forgiven her yet. And my nephew finally lost his battle with cancer – holding out until the morning of his twenty first birthday before passing away in his sleep. On top of this one of my closest friends is fighting his own battle with cancer; stubborn, cantankerous pain in the arse that he is I’m sure he can beat it too. He’d better, he’s my publisher and if he wants to ride the gravy train when my next book becomes a best seller then I guess he’s gonna have to beat it ain’t he?
All I really want for 2005 then is for the same amount of people that I start the year with to still be there at the end. That would be a good year for me.
Kami

As The World Turns

2005-01-02T22:29:00.000-08:00

Feels strange right now caring about music with the world falling apart around us. Felt even stranger walking to my job in a cd shop the day after the news of the Tsunami disaster had hit us and watching all the post xmas sales going on. Apparently we set a new high for spending that day. I couldn't and still can't get my head around people lining up at midnight to buy half price shoes while some 100,000 people are missing not even half a world away. And then to work in a shop watching people buying music, and not even decent music, as if the world just still rolls on. Maybe it does, maybe that's our strength, our survival skill - heads in the sand. But then what am i doing about it? Writing blogs for 'both' my friends to read, donating a few bucks to the red cross - am i really any better than those midnight shoppers? Sure, i feel bad about the disaster, i'm shocked at the scale of death, of destruction but i'm also incredibly cynical about the press, about the feeding frenzy of stories (and the lack of compassion for anyone initially who wasn't white, anglo, local)- i guess i'm a half empty glass kinda guy and expect the world to turn to shit anyway. It will be interesting to see how long the media's interest and our own keeps up - once the last tourists are found, be it dead or alive, the last story milked out of some miracle baby survivor - will we care about the rebuilding, about the islanders whose whole lives are now destroyed - or will we go back to the cricket and the reality shows about rich kids, surfing grommets and the next top model. Just this once i'd like my cynicism to be proven wrong.
And now back to our normal programme.

Kami

Kindling

2005-01-02T22:24:00.000-08:00

Kindling – more than just firestarters.
Yeah, it’s a lame heading – reading too much Wire again I guess. I wanted to take the time though to review a few releases from Kindling, a wee CDR label operating out of Queensland by one Leighton Craig. At some stage soon I hope to have an interview with Leighton but until we both pull our respective digits out these reviews(?) will have to do as a taster.

Leighton Craig – Organ Notes (Kin03)
The Kindling label was introduced to me by Jon Dale from Rhizome via his re-issue of Leighton Craig’s Organ Notes – Originally a cassette only release on Kindling then reissued by Jon as a 3" disc (Both sadly sold out now). Leighton pulls tiny fragments of organ music together, sewing a dreamscape that lifts you away from the drab of day to day mortality of eat, shit, work, wait. There is a zone somewhere maybe, another dimension, possibly only internal, where this music is the day to day hum of life. Leighton gives us just a taste of it here.

Eugene Carchesio/Leighton Craig – S/titled (Kin04)
Recorded May 2003 in Bellas Gallery Brisbane, four tracks of live organ drone, swaying, bending and slipping into your psyche to hide deep inside your brain for those days when you need them just to get by. This is the soundtrack for the art hiding just behind your eyelids.

Eugene Carchesio/Leighton Craig – Community Of Opposites (Kin05)
19 minutes of sublimity drip fed via 3" disc. Reminds me a lot of Michael Schumacher’s quieter pieces, keyboards filtering slowly thru computers to give you a brew of delicate, sweet tasting nectar. Bernhard Gunter has talked of creating different time scales to measure his music – Eugene and Leighton have achieved that here. You’ll lose yourself in this music, 19 minutes, 19 seconds, 19 hours – it’s all irrelevant. Take the time out to enjoy the subtleties of quiet.

Stuart Busby – Breathe (Kin06)
Easily my favourite release of 2004 bar none. The sound of a ghost world trembling to the sound of a lone trumpeter sounding taps in a landscape created solely by your own subconscious. This is a beautiful muted work that eases the trumpet to the forefront again, where it should be. Stuart has taken the subtle touches of early Miles, the romance of Louis before he "entertained" the masses and made them his own, breathing patient, quiet life into an instrument too long hammered by histrionics and showboating. You owe it to yourself to hear it.
kindlingrecords@yahoo.com.au
Kindling PO Box 684 New Farm Qld 4005 Australia

Esoteric Circle Playlists

2004-12-24T18:30:00.000-08:00

Esoteric Circle is a program I present on 3D Radio 93.7FM in Adelaide. Jazz, new music, improvisation and modern composition make up the program and every month I’ll attempt to put up the playlists from the show to give you an idea of what I’m playing and the direction of the show. If you’re a musician or running a label or have anything you think I should be playing drop me a line or send yr disc. Here’s a sample of the last month or so - kami
ESOTERIC CIRCLE 15TH November 2004
ARTIST TRACK ALBUM
Marcus Belgrave Space Odyssey Gemini
George Adams/Dannie Richmond Joojoobie Hand To Hand
Paul Dunmall Moksha Big Band I Wish You Peace Pt 1 I Wish you Peace
Bucket Rider Evenement 1-4 Le Evenements
Eve Packer All Night West Frm 42nd
Christoph Gallio Curtains Dream A Gertrude Stein
Christoph Gallio Improvisation A Gertrude Stein
Charles Lloyd/Billy Higgins What Is Man? Which Way Is East?
Phillips/Haino/Toyozumi Two Strings Will Do It Two Strings Will Do It
Rope Love Without The Illusion Of Permanence Widows First Dawn
Marcus Belgrave Glue Fingers Parts I & II Gemini
Eve Packer Swept Away West Frm 42nd

ESOTERIC CIRCLE 22ND November 2004
ARTIST TRACK ALBUM
Alice Coltrane Sita Ram Translinear Light
Alice Coltrane Leo Translinear Light
Pharoah Sanders Upper Egypt & Lower Egypt Tauhid
Paul Dunmall Moksha Big Band I Wish You Peace Pt 2 I Wish You Peace
Stuart Busby Sorrow Breathe
Stuart Busby Ernestine Breathe
Charlotte Hug No Land Neuland
Sonny Sharrock Blind Willy Black Woman
Sonny Sharrock Peanut Black Woman
Alice Coltrane Blue Nile Translinear Light
Alice Coltrane Translinear Light Translinear Light
Paul Grabowsky Tailfin Tales Of Time & Space

ESOTERIC CIRCLE 13TH December 2004
ARTIST TRACK ALBUM
Joel Ryan Shaker Mix Or Air
David Murray Gwotet Gwotet
Milo Fine Skinny Frogs Ikebana
Neil Leonard Sacred Bath 1-3 Timaeus
Fred Lonberg-Holm Dialog 2 Dialogs
Ginger Baker Skin The Pizzle No Material
Donkey Fog Big Sur
David Murray Ovwa Gwotet
Remote Viewers Astro Black Low Shapes In Dark Heat
Roger Miller Space Is The Place Oh
Marcos Fernandez Bullets For Ballots Hybrid Vigor

ESOTERIC CIRCLE 20TH December 2004
ARTIST TRACK ALBUM
Albert Ayler Trio Ghosts Second Variation Spiritual Unity
Henry Grimes Trio Flowers For Albert Wire Tapper 12
John Sinclair Hellhound On My Trail Steady Rollin’ Man
Machine Gun Arsenal High Tech Open Fire
Machine Gun Mommie Sir Open Fire
99 Hooker/ Diaz-Infante/Zzaj Shape Of The Future IsUtah Future Has Already Been Done
Milo Fine May Radicals Five Ikebana
Fred Lonberg-Holm Dialog 6 Dialogs
Triosk I Am A Beautiful Snowflake Moments Return
Remote Viewers Wild Is The Wind Obliques Before Pale Skin
Veryan Weston Even Angels Die All Angels Concerts 1999-2001
Eugene B Redmond All Athighed In Black Blood Links & Sacred Places
Necks Mosquito (Excerpt) Wire Tapper 12

Flatulence - the only truly disposable artform - a gig review

2004-12-17T15:50:00.000-08:00

Gig review – Jade Monkey Adelaide 16th December 2004
This was one of those nights that don’t translate into words – you try and tell your friends how good it was, how much fun they missed – and they look at you with that look your parents used to give you when you brought your report card home – but here goes anyway!
In the best reviewer tradition I missed the opening act Sound Of Mercy Killing but having seen them before I know they would have assaulted the audience with a short, sharp brutal attack of twin guitar noise and bad rock drumming (if I’m wrong I’m sure someone will let me know) – always good but unfortunately usually first on the bill – they deserve better. I did however arrive just in time for Home For The Def. Nigel "don’t call me a hippy" Koop had a table full of fx pedals, a microphone and flatulence – that was all he needed to produce a bucketful of noise, looping and farting about until he got a rhythm that was just right – jungle beats and hip hop grooves – all he needed was a rapper (or maybe not). Highly entertaining.
Nun were next, two serious young insects taking the traditional folk art of playing the spoons to new levels – shimmering noise that demanded your attention – amazing what you can do with the cutlery drawer.
Who says the white man can’t play the blues? They’ve obviously never seen Justice Yeldham - a blues man who couldn’t find his harmonica – he adlibbed with a plate of glass and a belt of fx pedals and blew that pane like he’d lived the blues all his life. I’ve seen some girls "glassed" in my time but he took it to new heights. Can’t wait to see what he can do with a door.

Ian Nagoski

2004-12-17T15:46:00.000-08:00

On Fevered Mind: The Slow-Burning Drones of Ian Nagoski by John Berndt
The first time I saw Ian Nagoski play live, I thought incredulously to myself "This guy is one of the best musicians I’ve ever heard in my life." What was so unbelievable about this thought was that it was directed at the activity of a young man whose output consisted of an almost unchanging, buzzing, throbbing layer-cake of electronic drones controlled by incredibly subtle adjustments to a primitive rig of
analog tape decks, CD players, and modulators spread out on the floor in front of him. The sound seemed to hang free of what Nagoski was doing, and was extraordinarily moving. The pace of change was glacial, and Nagoski’s intent manipulations were
sometimes spaced minutes apart as his processes unfolded or achieved equilibrium as if in a thick medium, a melting iceberg in electrified auditory ocean. The music also had a viscerally slowed-down and drugged quality--it dragged time backwards, cancelling the momentum from past to future. I had previously heard Nagoski’s music on CD and had enjoyed it, but this live performance was something else, an unqualified new experience. Nagoski’s sound saturated the room with considerable volume, but rather than being an opaque wall or endurance test, it had an incredible lyricism to it, an almost heartbreaking emotional presence. Far from cold or academic, the sound engulfed you in a tangled interplay of frequencies that were overripe with intention and focus. At the mid-point of the roughly forty-five minute piece, the volume sea-changed up perceptibly, and the sounds clearly began overdriving some piece of the equipment, possibly the speakers Nagoski had supplied for listening. With this move, a new lattice of veined micro-melodies shot through the sound,
interference patterns already subliminally present brought into brittle relief by the speakers "clipping." While this might have been annoying on its own, the distorted spires that launched from the already established hypnotic sound field were a
fascinating, alien musical adjustment, a new kind of orchestration. There was something also strangely desperate (relentlessly searching and uncompromising)
about that small move and it was a break with any hint of detachment or preciousness. As if the aperture on a camera had been changed to widen the depth of
field, the drones "sharpened" in all directions and complex, architectonic towers of harmonics geometrically seared and flowered through the sound, making it more melodic, more emotional, more intense. By the time Ian slowly faded down the sound to end the piece, I was in a state of timeless amnesia, barely able to reconstruct the large-scale course of the piece in my mind. It was hard to come back. … Let’s put
aside the awful term "minimalism" for a second (as it applies to academic instrumental works that has less new musical content per-square-foot than Late
Romanticism). There is music which (however complex or minimal), deals with sustained sound and immersive audio experiences. In 2001, this kind of activity has
A LOT of history accumulated there are many and varied musicians on record who work only with "sustained sound" or "drone sound environments." I now consider
Nagoski to be one of the most important in that group a highly original artist, though he is also clearly (and vitally) inspired by what has come before. Time
will separate him from the score of equally obscure young artists who work with sustained sound or sound fields. I think it is interesting to note how qualitatively different superficially parallel contributions can be within this roughly defined genre
of "slowly changing, sustained sound." La Monte Young (who was a kind of early teacher to Nagoski) may have inaugurated the genre, with "drone" pieces that are
ultimately focused on stasis, precision, and kind of scientific hygenicism of tuning. Some of Young’s sound installations (both the large smooth sine wave pieces
and singular works like "Gong for Bob Morris,") can achieve amazing, disorienting new forms of sensuality though they are perhaps largely devoid of "supplied"
emotional content. Young’s metaphysical-copyright antagonist, Tony Conrad (previously well known for his film "Flicker") has revived his own take on the early
live "Theatre of Eternal Music" work made in collaboration with Young and others in the 60s. Conrad’s "reborn" music sustains (usually two note) string drones, presented at very high volume (without electronic distortion), but a tremendous amount of
"unhygienic," churning musical content added by the rhythms of irregular bow-articulation. Sometimes the experience borders on an endurance test--on a good day, it can also be quite thrilling. There are also a great many who, like Nagoski, work with what I might call "densely massed sustained sound" or "poly-drone music."* Phil Niblock, Charlemagne Palestine, Herman Nitsch, Eliane Radigue, and Michael Schumacher all come to mind as composers who have worked with textures of densely layered, prismatically changing frequencies. Though I find things of interest in all these composers, I (and I would warrant, Nagoski) find considerably more inspiration in the as-yet-unpublished work of Catherine Christer Hennix ("The Electric Harpsichord") and Henry Flynt ("Glissando," the four-track version of "Celestial Power") a very fragile, limited body of work which has been defined by Flynt as the genre of "HESE: Hallucinegenic-Ecstatic-Sound-Environment"or "The
Illuminatory Audio Program." These three obscure pieces have drug-like effects and raise the bar through the roof for "trance" music and use sustained, tuned audio textures and highly orchestrated psychoacoustic-aesthetic effects to produce altered
states. To my mind, the "HESE" pieces are truly ecstatic works that represent a degree of seriousness, commitment, and unarguable success that more or less blows the rest of available "trance music" out of the water. One can only hope they will all achieve
publication and a wide audience. Nagoski’s work pushes in the same rich direction of delirious seriousness and precision of intent, not yet achieving the relative and isolated perfection of the "HESE" pieces, but still accomplishing a great deal. And it is work that is still very much evolving from month to month which may well throw open its own new doors of perception. The music can certainly have intense and original hypnotic and time-distorting effects which are of interest in their own right, but what is most crucial is its emotional, stripped down quality the fact that Nagoski is so consumed and focused by his unpretentious micro- and macro- choices, making very real, very strange music which has an extraordinarily intimate, subtle, and honest quality. The raw materials of the music are extremely crude, but Ian’s endless sympathetic reworking of the sounds through very carefully tuning and processing transforms them and infuses them with layers of warmth and glowing audio halos. The work also involves informality and chance-taking which is notable for the genre having seen him perform many times now, it is clear that he is a real improviser, working out his music as an uncanned, real-time process in a truly exploratory
manner, despite the unusualness of his aesthetic parameters. This means that not every concert will be a success, but those that are have a special potential to be stellar. Such unguarded integrity and emotional intensity are extraordinarily rare and fragile, and it
is particularly odd to encounter both in a style of music often associated with pseudoscientific clap-trap and urbane one-upmanship. But nothing less than this
sort of rawness is required to create something new, to move beyond the cognitive and emotional boundaries of the culture into new modes of sustainable psychedelic experience. In live concert, Ian Nagoski has probably made some of the most emotionally charged, organically crafted drone music that has been yet produced. His music is extremely qualitative deep-digging into the mind, into emotive elongations
of tiny private primate moments through what are still relatively new electronic means--an experiment with consciousness, if you will. Most recently, Ian’s output has involved a long series of fascinating sound/light concert collaborations with the light
artist, musician and inventor Dan Conrad (who is, coincidentally, brother of the afore-mentioned Tony Conrad). Conrad’s Chromaccord light machine is a performative instrument that allows him to lyrically "play" two fields of variable color, one inside the other. The resulting disorienting afterimages from this minimal (but highly flexible) display are breathtaking. In concert with Ian’s extremely focused drone work, the resulting combination is a new kind of synthetic two-part harmony… with silent afterimages of pulsing color chasing or clashing with the harmonic ripples of Nagoski’s emotional current. This is an extremely challenging situation, and very difficult for both performers, as they improvise with radically difficult and unusual materials and across sensory modalities. The resulting cultural experience is often
ecstatic, and defines a new genre of light/sound work where neither sense is allowed to be dominant, and the overall mood is driving and lyrical rather than atmospheric or assaultive. The world may not be ready for this sort of work, work which is not pretence but begins in terra incognita. The world certainly isn’t telling anyone to do it--but Ian Nagoski is doing it, and he is doing it for real.
* Not sure who originated this term, but it may have been the person called tentatively
John Berndt

noises from the funhouse

2004-12-13T13:14:00.000-08:00

Some reviews from the funhouse/esoteric circle mansions to get things started cheers kami

Rev 99 – Everything Changed After 7-11 (Pax Recordings)
A loose collective of instigators, originators and manipulators led primarily by sound poet 99 Hooker, Rev 99 has set out to undermine and overturn any preconceptions you may have about improvised music. Clashes of found sound, musical instruments, background leakage, remixing, slice/dice/cut & paste all come together in a soup for the soul – as long as you’ve sold that soul to the devil. This recording from 2002 sets the tone just by its title – instant recognition of (and poking the bone at) America’s consumer culture and its commercialisation of the country’s grief. Rev 99 want to make you think, want to make you notice what’s happening around you but they offer no easy way out, or in for that matter. With pieces recorded over phon e lines, remixed via the mail, channelled back and forth to be poked & prodded, the lines between improvisation, composition, ownership and responsibility are not so much blurred as rubbed out with a cheap eraser, still there just smeared and barely visible.
(www.paxrecordings.com)

Ernesto Diaz-Infante – Ucross Journal (Pax Recordings)
More and more I find myself drawn to minimalist works, pieces that say as much in the silences as in the music. The solo piano pieces presented here and inspired by Ernesto’s time in Ucross, Wyoming are again works that show that sound does not necessarily need to be heard to be felt. This is the sound of the desert, of the clear horizon and your watch stopping. You sit by an open window, watching clouds gather, listening to the silence between the keys – time travel is now possible.

Evan Parker/Stan Tracey – Suspensions and Anticipations (PSI Records)
Saxophone and piano improvisations from two of the elder statesmen of the U.K. scene. (or are they all elder statesmen now?) A subtle work with both players showing constraint and playing within themselves. And by that I don’t mean that they’re not trying – I simply mean that there’s as much left out as put in. It’s knowing when to push and when to pull back that sets Parker apart. And in no way is Tracey just a sidekick here – this is a duo recording, he’s not here to accompany Parker, he’s here to partner him. Anyone can play ‘crash & burn’ but it takes a master (or in this case two) to hold back and let the nuances of sound reveal themselves, to let the instruments guide you instead of vice versa.
(www.emanemdisc.com)

Claudia Quintet – I Claudia (Cuneiform Records)
Vibes, accordian, clarinet, acoustic bass – by all rights you’d expect this quintet to be old guys playing dixieland in a corner bar but they ain’t and they don’t – instead it’s a sweet, full sound by a bunch of ‘young’ veterans offering hints of jazz history but staying ahead of it the whole time. Tiny licks of memory sneak out to tease you occasionally but then slide back to hide behind the sweet rhythms of a unit who just maybe like to dance in the privacy of their own homes but ain’ too sure about making it public just yet. Truth is, these guys can swing; that might not be hip right now but it is mighty refreshing. And I get the feeling they don’t really want to be hip anyway.
(www.cuneiformrecords.com)

beginnings?

2004-12-07T02:22:00.000-08:00

Hey, i think i just got a blog...now what to do with it? Well, the well overdue issue of Funhouse could be a start. After all it's only been three years. First though, i'll have to work out what the hell i'm doing... being computer illiterate can be so much fun. You can expect to see regular music reviews, information, gibberish and playlists from the radio show i do on 3d radio 93.7 on the fm dial here in Adelaide (it's on monday nights 9pm Esoteric Circle - jazz and new music - tune in!) - there'll also be pieces on musicians, writers, people that i find interesting... like i said there's a well overdue zine in my system... enjoy

Kami