ALCOHOLICS AND THE INFINITE MADNESS
Episode Three: Sunday Bloody Sunday
War! The Republic is crumbling under attacks by the ruthless Sith Lord, Count Dooku. There are heroes on both sides. Evil is everywhere.. no.. shit.. wait.. that's the WRONG Episode Three! arrr fuckit.. and I really wanted to plunge the galaxy into darkness under my own corrupt iron fisted rule too.. dammit! (guess there's always next weekend aye?)
no.. herein you'll find the final earth shattering conclusion as we bring you the last chapter of SPOZ's weekend from hell.. as he's reduced to nothing more than a smiling hollow farting shell of his former self.. a tale soooo twisted, it needed the 2 previous chapters to prepare you for the horror of it.. lose hope all ye who enter here.. (and may the angry snow demons have pity on your soul..)SUNDAY NIGHT
I wake up the vague consistency of cactus.. not quite the scale of one of those large ARIZONA cacti.. but more the novelty miniature ones you slap on the dashboard of your car.. either way.. I wuz awfully prickly.. only three sheets to the wind, staggering around like an extra in a George Romero film.. I wuz not fit for this earth.. and even better.. YAY! it wuz my BIRTHDAY TODAY!!
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MEEEE!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME..e.e.. *cough*.. *choke*.. *wheeze".. dammit! there goes my pancreas.. HAAAPPY BIRTHDAY TOOO MEEEEEE!"
yup.. on the first weekend in Adelaide where the temperature dipped below 20 degrees C.. it seemed like everybody got struck down with the lurgee.. the dreaded mini influenza.. the common head cold.. and I got slapped silly with it today.. but dammit.. it wuz my birthday.. and NOTHING wuz gonna stop me!
and so, looking for round 3 with a bullet.. I head on down to FOWLERS LIVE to catch an all-ages show featuring TONY FONT SHOW, QUIET CHILD, SOFT WHITE MACHINE and REALIST FEW.. all for only $7 too.. bargain!
here's me trying to be all arty n shit, by taking a photo of the rafters..
(in the business.. we call this a "d-grade post alcohol induced dementia" )TONY FONT SHOW
up first tonight, I am greeted by the TONY FONT SHOW.. with their 2nd show of the weekend.. and considering I saw 1/2 these colourful freaks at the party last night.. I'm real surprised they're still alive (or at least still standing)
LEE lurches around the stage, somewhat like the lurching contents of my stomach..
due to unforseen illness.. RICHARD has been replaced tonight by an evil cyborg sent from the future to kill us all.. (no, wait.. I think that's still him..)
MATT is grinning in this photo, because..
(a) he has NO memory of what he did the night before..
(b) he remembers EVERYTHING everyone ELSE did the night before..
(c) playing the bass is 10x more effective hangover cure than VICODIN..
(d) "d-grade post alcohol induced dementia"..
(e) anomalous sunspot activity..
LEE tries his hand at singing falsetto..
PHIL suddenly rememebers he left the shrunken heads in his OTHER jeans pockets.. and freaks out..
LEE can no longer take this shit standing up..
and like clockwork, again finds himself on the floor.. "dammit PHIL! stop kneecapping my VOODOO DOLL!"
"kill all humans.. kill all humans.. SPOZ will PAAAY!.. kill all humans.."
(uh oh.. I think I've gone and done it now, haven't I?)
phew.. another spleen exploding performance from TONY FONT SHOW and I'm totally starrrffed.. so, in between bands.. I roam around in a foggy viral haze.. passing the time by taking a series of confusing, yet arty photo's around the venue..
"this is where the drums go to sleep"
"this is where.. um.. some kinda red winch thing lives.. although it looks highly functional it's REAL purpose is unknown.."
whilst attempting the 3rd arty photo.. I'm surprised to see RICH spring to life, jumping up onto the bar like an exciteable ferret.. obviously, to anyone who knows him, we knew this wasn't the REAL RICHARD.. so we dragged him outside and had him beaten to death (yeah.. that'll teach those evil CYBORGS from the future to mess with us!)
up next on stage were QUIET CHILD.. I tried listening in for a few minutes.. but my brain wuzn't having any of it.. so instead I head to the bar..
by this point in the weekend.. my vocal chords were so shredded I remembered trying to order a "COOPERS DARK ALE" from the bartender but got served "DIET COKE" instead.. hmmm.. yup.. I wuz faaaarked..SOFT WHITE MACHINE
anyhoo.. onto the next band, SOFT WHITE MACHINE shredding it up on stage..
these guys are relatively new on the scene.. created by former members of UNGKAS and SIR GERBIL..
with a sound that could be vaguely described as a mix between QUEENS OF THE STONE AGE, A PERFECT CIRCLE.. and THE STROKES..
ie: "howling doomrock with a swing beat you can dance to!"..
(and yeah, feel free to quite me on that one guys.. just remember.. it's spelt "s p O z"... and NOT "spooj".. yeah.. cheers.. thanks a lot..)
most notable attributes to watch out for in this band..
lead singer KARL's bizarre "my guitar is an aeroplane.. WEEEEE!" terrible-two toddler moves (damn that shit made me dizzy trying to photograph it..)
and um.. guitarist ANDREAS's amazing feathered mullet.. "YAY! MULLET! look at it shine in the spotlight.. makes me look like MICK JAGGER.. weeeeee!"
(oh yeah.. they're gonna kill me now for sure..)
all in all.. these guys delivered a powerpacked buzzing hellfire delivery guarenteed to pop yer head open like sledgehammers to watermellons.. class act peeps.. definitely not a band to miss! (no really.. I'm being sincere now.. HONEST! GO SEE 'EM DUDES! THEY'RE KICKARSE!)
with SOFT WHITE MACHINE finished.. I wuz just about finished myself.. with my head spinning little stars and circling birds (just like in the cartoons!) I'd reached the breaking point in the weekend and I wanted nothing more than to drag my weary corpse home to a warm shower and a nice cool coffin.. ahhhh :)
and yet, these crazy oversized leprecauns stopped me before I could reach the exit and convinced me otherwise.. telling me I had to stick around to see the final band.. a band I'd never heard, seen or smelled of.. THE REALIST FEW.. they told me it wuz something I REALLY couldn't miss..
and seriously.. would you argue with THESE freaks?REALIST FEW
so, despite my better judgement.. or the alarm bells ringing in my internals.. I stuck around for ONE MORE BAND..
the REALIST FEW were quite an odd sight to behold.. all crazy angular guitars.. black shirts.. and 2 minute shredding songs of screaming fury that sat in that odd limbo between PUNK and METAL.. a little zone peeps like to call HARDCORE..
they weren't the most subtle of cats as they tore into song after song of unrelenting fury..
..stopping between their 2 minute songs.. to spit on the floor.. pace around in scuffed shoe silence and bark successive orders to the MIXER.. "not enough FOLDBACK!", "too much on MIC!", "oi.. turn this fucking thing UP!"..
and yet each song tore the place up more than the last.. beyond normal limitations of sound.. of rhythm.. of physics.. till they were stabbing furious holes into the fabric of time and space itself..
quite a versatile bunch too.. here we see this dude on drums..
..and now on bass.. and for all I know.. he might've even attempted guitar, vocals and even the mixer's job.. (I really didn't stick around for the entire gig to find out)
after a 1/2 hour or so, 15 to 20 songs fired off in rapid succession.. and with the containment field on my warp core rapidly failing.. I soaked up 1 more song.. then made my way for the door before I caused a minor explosion with what was left of my innards..
yup.. those wacky leprecauns were right.. that really WASN'T a band to miss.. these guys were freakin' insane.. REALIST FEW? fucking good call peeps! expect my medical bill to arrive in the mail aaany day now.. bastards ;)
with the clock nearing 11PM.. and with me more shades worse for wear than a 2nd hand lamp store.. I said goodbye to the "COOPERS SERVED ON TAP" sign at the entrance (made all the more curious coz they didn't serve any at this all-ages gig.. bastards!) and made my way to the bus home..
11:30PM.. home.. spinning walls.. coma..
and that.. is the end of my weekend..
9 LIVE BANDS, enough combined alcohol to sink a RHINO, numerous retarded circus antics thru the streets of ADELAIDE, the combined onslaught of MEAT, FIRE, NOISE, FOOZ and AIR HOCKEY.. all crammed into 3 nights of stomach churning fury..
yeah.. Adelaide's such a quiet little country town huh?
*phewww*.. now where did my liver go?
in closing I'd like to thank the following guest photographers for their contributions to this epic sized blog - CHELSEA, SIMONE, JOE BLOGS (and whoever else stole my camera for opportune moments of late-night stupidity).. and to all you other lunatics who either performed on stage.. or unwittingly found yerself down the barrel of the camera lens this weekend.. you helped make it a freakin' laaarge one.. ROCK!
who's up for next weekend?
aye? aaaye? AAAAAYE!?? :)
(shit.. where did everyone go?)
Previously on Spoz's Rant: Beware The Idiots Of March