RETOX THE FREAK IN ME
you psychedelic gonzo's haven't read anything from me keyboard tapping twitchy fingers all week huh? wondering where and wot the hell I was doing all week? do you really care? you're just here for the shiny weekend report aren'tcha? hoping I'm gonna name-drop ya? feature yer ugly mug in one of me photos? is THAT all I'm good for? yeah.. well.. that's coming (or scroll down if you couldn't be arsed).. but first.. let me lay down the backstory here..
a lot of you live a 5 day week of hell.. some of it continues well past day 5 only to engulf your entire being until all you are is an inane chattering shell of numbing statistics, office politics and other bullshit that'd likely put a room full of accountants to sleep.. some of these hells are of our own choosing.. choosing the job over the money.. suffering for our art (or inane wallpapered bullshit as it may likely be.. leaving a festering wound gathering dusk in an attic or basement somewhere) such is the hell of my own choosing I lived these last 5 days leading to the weekend.. yeah.. silly me.. I thought.. "hey.. I got some spare time to kill.. wot with being an occassionally employed graphic design slacker with nothing on the horizon.. still waiting on final pieces of our much delayed album.. still looking for a full time wage that wont condemn me to a zombie humdrum of mediocrity.. so wot now?" yeah.. I should've seen how creatively bankrupt I was at this point.. at the 3/4 part of the marathon, leg muscles filled with lactic acid and screaming to collapse all gibbering and hallucinatory.. but, regardless.. I decided to pick up a new project anywaze.. and so, this week.. that's wot I did.. I chose to begin a remix.. a remix that very likely may haunt me to howling point these next few weeks if I don't get a better outcome to it then I faced at the end of this week.. a jumbled missmatch of beats and clashing basslines without a purpose..
yeah.. call it studio frustration.. beating software sound generating widgets senseless looking for results and getting nothing but pidgeon poo.. writer's block.. a haemoraghing muse.. endless sounds rejected.. crumbled into a little paper balls and thrown thru the nearest novelty basketball hoop trash can.. you name it.. every part of my creative being.. hollowed out by termites and here I am trying to build a house with it that wont collapse poltergeist style in on it'self.. maybe, this'll all end in sublime genius that echo's across the generations..? or, I may just go insane first..
by Friday.. I was pissed off.. I was edgy.. if I was a smoker I'd be on a iron lung with the voice of Steven Hawking from the chain-chimneying to calm me nerves.. yeah.. I needed a release.. I needed a recharge..
thank fuck for beer :)
so.. what brought me back from the snarling abyss?
herein lies the tale of my weekend, which if it wasn't for me working me digital camera MEMENTO style I probably wouldn't even have remembered..FRIDAY NIGHT
watching tv all pissed off after a twitching frustrating week in the "studio".. I decide at the last minute to escape myself and head out to catch a movie.. nothing special.. just FANTASTIC FOUR.. yeah... um.. you want a quick review? try this - "just like spiderman.. just.. not nearly as good.. gob y'self stupid on sugar, bring ya kids.. leave your brain at the door.. big dumb disposable fun.." after 100 minutes of that CGI butchered escapism.. I emerged from the Hindley st cinema around 11PM.. with no plans but to make my way from Hindley, thru Rundle Mall, and then to the Crown N Anchor.. I was planning to drink one beer, look around bored and fuck off home on the last 11:45PM bus home..
thankfully that plan was hijacked.. (really it was a crap plan, and likely I would've been more pissed off than when I started) halfway down Rundle Mall I hear.. "Oiii.. SPOZ!?!".. looking up from my shuffling feet I spot some likely lunatics.. "ey.. wotcha doing?" they ask.. "um.. nuthin..?".. "come with us, we got free tickets to some house dj thingy!".. "ok!"..
so.. we head off to SAVVY.. and yes.. that's the nightclub they wrote about just this week in the papers.. how they wanted an exception to the equal opportunity / sex discrimination laws.. so they can refuse entry to males to keep the gender balance in the club?.. yeah.. obviously the publicity really worked in their favour.. since, not only was there no lineup.. but the venue wuz next to deserted.. apparently they had some 1920's chicago speakeasy theme night.. and of course, none of US were dressed the part (unless you count dressing like it's 19:20PM.. like I suggested).. we made our way in with free passes.. to spot a small scattering of flappers and gangster types.. some big chunky fuckoff black dude with heavy gold chains was playing some seriously cool house music.. yeah.. you may double back there.. "HOUSE MUSIC? COOL!? are you fucking retarded?" (well yes.. possibly) but no.. this music wuz good.. it wuz thumpy.. it was house music like it should be (and almost never is) pity the dancefloor wuz next to deserted except for one lone fool.. dressed in 1920's suit n tie and suspenders.. doing his best rubber chicken impersonation..
so.. we went looking for greener pastures.. and found our way into ZHIVAGO's just a few doors down.. usually this place also has an insane 30-40 minute lineup only to be snubbed by gorilla bouncers (like our last attempt to get in a few weeks ago).. but, this time.. no lineup.. smiling gorillas and we just went straight in.. and yet.. the place was packed.. the place wuz jumping.. they had some live funk / jazz / hiphop band with a female MC playing right into the tiny packed out dancefloor.. big fuzzy couches.. the ambience.. ahhh yes.. after 6 or 7 beers I wuz all fueled up and ready to go nuts with the night rapidly spiralling into utter stupidity and gibbering grinning blurriness.. I have dim memories of somehow finding meself into a taxi around 5:30AM.. yeah.. damn good one.. gotta love the random night out :)
(and no.. just like the scarf incident from a few weeks ago.. I can't explain the hat either..)SATURDAY NIGHT
Stuckey's 30th birthday party and an open bar full of beer and mixed spirit cocktails.. yeah.. just the right ingredients for hair of the dog round 2 lariness.. kinda like a game of dominoes, or some bizarre game of stomach trifle.. step one - layer up with food.. spring rolls, party pies, chips, more party pies, some crazy hollowed out bread roll with intestinal looking cheese dip (which seems to be all the rage of late).. step two - layer up 6 to 7 beers (I think I clocked up to at least 9.. but lost count after 5).. then, step three - get stuck into the complimentary mixed cocktails and spin the brain out with some happy high herbs for good measure.. I dunno how the HELL I managed to play a solo gig after all this abuse.. I hope nobody out there was sober at the time.. coz I don't remember anything I played.. for all I know I could've been playing the Windows 98 startup sound layered over a PC speaker synatix beep beat.. (hmmm.. mental note: that's not a bad idea for a song :) ).. yeah.. I got totally mashed up.. and yet.. with a head to toe swimming in liver damage.. I still went for round 2.. heading to Enigma after the party died down.. finding meself drinking even MORE beer at 5AM before once again miraculously finding meself home.. wallet, keys and other assorted nicknacks still accounted for..
I remembered waking up today.. still in a semi stoner / alcoholic post lunatic haze.. that only really lifted after the sun went down.. :)
I was a bundle of thorns and screaming audial constipation at the beginning of the weekend.. but by the end of this rollercoaster I'm nothing but a wide grin.. good times.. good beer.. good friends (who know how to fuck themselves up in style).. nice one :)
hmmm.. one wonders if the remix will make sense now?
Previously on Spoz's Rant: Brain Damage