The Adelaide music scene: to many of you it might be little more than a touring speed bump between Melbourne and Perth but to us it's a way of life. Feast within, on all its dysfunctioning splendour, as we bring you the highly satirical, laughingly fictional and intellectually imbecile tales from our rock & roll wasteland...
Which brings us to the first of two "shows" I've been "unwittingly" invited to tonight, or perhaps I simply invited myself tonight, or perhaps they've been stalking me on facebook for the past few weeks "for no particular reason" hoping I'd take the hint and go see them anyways, DAMN YOU ANYA MCNICHOL WINDRAM!! (but shit damn she's pretty!) and.. wait where the fuck am I again!? oh yeah! "Tiny Conspiracy": it's a show that's been thrown together by those bohemian idiots from Bird Wizdom, it's part of the Adelaide Cabaret Fringe and it's being held here at La Bohème. And if you don't know where the FUCK that is!? don't worry you're not the only one.. until recently I didn't have a freaking clue this place existed either despite the fact I'd frequently pass it on the way to The Metro and wonder "what the fuck is up with that shit!?" (as you do) only to never follow it up with any kind of inquiry (see? told you I was no journalist!). But if you're looking for it? it's on 36 Grote Street, it's that teeny tiny swing joint with the cafe seating just east of The Metro and it's the maddest hippest shit ever.. and I'm not just saying that! (ok maybe a little). And as for what all of this has got to do with Sean Kemp drummer from Booster, standing outside, looking wildly excited to be here!? Yeaaah maybe it's got something to do with him turning up on a whim just now, eager as all hell to attend tonight, only to realise the show sold out hours ago.. awwww! Which obviously doesn't affect ME because I've already scammed my name on the doorlist a week ago because I'm really THAT much of an a-grade arsehole to the Adelaide scene! Did I mention I have absolutely no qualifications to be here? Shit damn duuude I love writing this blog sometimes, I TRULY DO!!
Upon walking in (after wishing Sean "the very best" in getting obliteratingly drunk at The Crown & Anchor instead.. go figure?) it quickly dawns on me that "Tiny Conspiracy" won't just be any 'ol show featured (or more accurately ridiculed) here on Spoz's Rant: if not for the relatively obscure location then definitely for this mysterious envelope that I'm presented with at the door. Hmmm?
Obviously I'm a little hesitant to open it at first imagining up all manner of chemical or biological scenarios they might pull as an opening gambit.. yeaaah you know for "shits and giggles"? (and here I am without my ciprofloxacin!? you fiends!), or maybe I've just been given the infamous "missing zapruda film" that proves Elvis Presley was the "second shooter" in the assassination of JFK? or maybe it's a memory card containing the alternative ending that was never aired for the Lost series finale that actually explained WHAT THE FUCK WAS UP WITH THAT ISLAND (cork in a bottle my arse!)? or maybe.. just maaaybe it's an acid flashback letter from Centrelink telling me I have a pending "intensive assistance" interview/interrogation/waterboarding session with my job network first thing on a Monday morning and failure to attend is not an option!? "WHOAAA FUCK MAAAN.. DON'T MAKE ME PULL THIS TRIGGER!!". But as it turns out? yeaah it's just their official theatre programme (and duuude check it out, it's totally illustrated and everything.. YAAAAY!!).
Oh and if we're not nearly disturbed enough by now? THIS is the person who handed me that envelope.. and might I add without uttering a single word? "WHOAAA!!". Yup his name is Dr Bones, he plays the trombone (although tonight he's mostly just pulling mad shapes on stage as apparently La Bohème is much too small to accommodate his "volume"). And before you ask? yes "The Spirit of Jazz" is deep inside him but no that moustache isn't actually his: it's an aquatic sea creature, possible a sea urchin of some kind and he lives in symbiosis with it; oh and he's also not at all bothered that I'm standing here taking photos of him.. no not at all (please don't kill me!).
But before I drop more Mighty Boosh references in effort to describe just what the fuck it is that I saw in here tonight and drop hints alluding to how expensive my psychiatrist bill will be in following DAMN YOU ANYA MCNICOL-WINDRAM!! (you frisky little fiend!) maybe a quick rundown on the venue itself might be in order. La Bohème (emphasis on the squiggly bit above the "e") is a "cozy" little establishment very much styled in the tradition of a Parisian bar; or at the very least quite how I'd imagine one in a Looney Tunes cartoon frequented by Pepé Le Pew (perhaps short of the smell). Everything's styled in a lush, turn of the century "French Bohemian" way: rich maroon velvet curtains, fungus green walls, antique lampshades, intimate dinner theatre seating, soft chandelier lighting, and on the back walls there's even a mad selection of old timey whimey photos featuring showgirls from the Moulin Rouge, burlesque performers and musty old maids of high class and distinction. It's the sort of place you'd half imagine to be frequented by pretentious twats in bowler hats, cravats and smoking jackets openly discussing such things as "hmmm yes I might go for the monocle look this year.. it's about due for a comeback dontcha think?" and movies they'd just seen on SBS whilst sipping on fine wine (and yes there's plenty of them in attendance tonight). And quite like you'd imagine with ME being here, it very much feels like I've just stepped foot on the moon and my space helmet's slowly filling with water (and wait is that a goldfish too!?) but even so it's hardly the weirdest situation I've been in.. I mean shit they still serve alcohol riiight?
Speaking of such here's the bar.. or at least some of the chalk boards surrounding the bar listing a littany of choice wines, spirits, cocktails and exotic appetisers squeezed from the tear duct of a forrest nymph (as much as I'd imagine). The sort of sweet ambrosia with just a hint of wormwood and lotus blossom that'd likely cannabalise your wallet out quicker in "a hit and run sortie" than a visit to the back room at Sugar where everyone goes to "powder their nose" (in as much as I swear I've never been there, it totally doesn't exist and I just made it up on the spot). But in saying that? you'll also be pleased to know that they serve, totally smirk free, stubbies of Coopers Pale.
But of course only an IDIOT would ever stoop to drink "beer" at such a swank emporium as this. Egads maaan you'd be better off drinking out of the toilet for the fine example you're setting YOU UNCULTURED APE!! (who me!? *cough* never!). Nope if you really want to impress and experience the very best that La Bohème has to offer? then you can't go past the "creme de la creme that is THIS cocktail suspended up on high. To the untrained eye, yes it might appear to be little more than an ornate candelabra fashioned out of Maker's Mark small-batch Kentucky bourbon.. but you'd be dead wrong sir, DEAD WRONG!! For as little as $85 and a quick medical exam they'll give you step ladder and a pipette and you're well on your way to sweet sweet paradise.. no really, think of it as like a skill tester. If you score more than a gargle? they'll even let you fondle the stuffed Vincent Van Gogh doll they keep out back while the "effects" wear off. The dog may've chewed on it a bit, it's possibly missing an ear (I know I totally went there) and wait.. what's that? I need to find my seat now!? *sigh* oh well guess it'll have to wait till next time, the show's about to begin!
TINY CONSPIRACY (****1/2) myspace :: Now if it isn't already bleedingly apparently I'm a "little" bit out of my league here. I almost never venture into the realm of "musical theatre" (at least not without sporting a unabomber jacket and a few pounds of C4 explosives strapped to my chest) I don't care how potentially awesome Dr Horrible's Sing-A-Long Blog is (yes I know Joss Whedon is behind it all and yes I've been meaning to check it out.. but that's besides the point!), I don't care if it's a rock opera inspired by the works of Freddy Mercury, I just don't understand the appeal of Glee; it's completely extraterrestrial to me, I mean DUUUDE WHAT THE FUCK AM I EVEN DOING HERE!? Well to answer THAT question you need only look to one Anya McNicol-Windram: the mastermind behind this whole insanity. Yup you may remember her from her appearance at last years inaugural "No One Wants To Play With Me" solo show at The Metro. You may remember her from her critically acclaimed "Violet Rapscallion" theatre production for The Festival Fringe. Or you may simply remember her from all her colourfully drunk appearances at The Exeter earlier this year *ahem*. In short she's completely and utterly batshit insane, obviously, but in such a way that you can't help but find her endlessly endearing and almost impossible to say "no" to if ever she hunts you down on facebook and pleads for you to attend one of her live shows.. DAMN YOU ANYA MCNICOL-WINDRAM!! DAAAMN YOUUU!! (hmmm maybe I could make that into a t-shirt?). It also helps that she's a ridiculously talented lyricist, she has a diabolically comedic knack for cooking up a multitude of witty ditties covering all manner of hilarious dysfunction and social faux pas and in the way she puts it all together with her band Bird Wizdom? all rough hewn and giddily erratic? you can almost forget every reservation you had for watching musical theatre in the first place; in fact it'd almost be an insult to consider it as such. Think of it more as a nervous breakdown with puppets: only the puppets are members of her band and it's a comedy and THAT'S what we're dealing with here. As such tonight's "Tiny Conspiracy" could be considered the messy comedown companion piece to "Violet Rapscallion" in quite the same way a band's sophomore release: rife with songs bitching about being stuck on tour, losing touch with reality, having too much sex and drugs.. etc, bookends their debut. Only in the case of "Tiny Conspiracy" it covers everything from completely losing your mind after The Festival Fringe, completely losing your mind from working in the hospitality industry (see the song entitled: "Tea Tea Tea") and otherwise completely losing your mind for not being able to fit in with "regular society" when you're someone as astronomically "out there" as Anya (and yet in a way that we can all relate? weird how that works). Starting off with a monologue and a rapid fire ukulele ditty "Socialising vs Bikeriding" she's then joined by her band: Melanie Prior on cello, Tom Windram on guitar, Annie Siegmann on bass, Dr Bones on.. whatever the fuck it is that he does!? and Lilly Sim providing the odd bellydance routine in between (I know riiight?), as well as a chance appearance by one Phi Theodoros credited only as the "Fat Man" (and if you watch the video? yeaaah I think you'll understand why). In playing style Anya borrows rather heavily from both The Dresden Dolls and Regina Spector (and perhaps a little bit of Ben Folds?) only to throw in everything else but the kitchen sink from Berlin cabaret, gypsy dervish clap-alongs, hysterical spoken word theatrics and a-cappella (for some truly tripped out harmonised duets with Annie). While the rest of the band provide light accompaniment that help to accentuate Anya's cartoon qualities in as much as they remain blissfully nonchalant to it in the background. Overall it shines in just how utterly unhinged and insanely colourful it is, there's never a dull moment in the slapstick delivery, and as much as it might lack a little "cohesion" (ie: some of the monologues kinda went astray and I'm still yet to figure out how the bellydancing fits in with the rest!?) they still won us over in spades (and shovels) when they whipped up a mad rendition of "Georgie Porgie" (think the nursery rhyme.. only acted out) that somehow tied it all together. Yup that's Tiny Conspiracy. If Terry Gilliam, Tim Burton and Larry David got together to produce a sitcom.. duuude, it could only be half as fucked up as this!
9:59PM - With the show concluding to much wild applause, to which Anya held up a teeny tiny sign shaped like a heart and responded "and maybe this is the biggest conspiracy of them all!" only to be met with awkward silence.. "too cheesy?" (heh!) three thoughts immediately sprung to mind: firstly it was only 8:30 in the evening (whoaaa!), secondly I hadn't had anything to drink just yet and thirdly.. WAIT? I WATCHED THE WHOLE THING SOBER? WHAT THE FUCK WAS I THINKING!? And so after quickly remedying the situation (I'll let you decide if I tried the "candelabra" or not) I joined the cast and crew outside only to discover a partial lunar eclipse unfolding in the sky above. We stopped in awe to absorb this cosmic coincidence, completely unrelated to the show they tell me (but I still had my doubts) only to have it broken by the sight of Anya storming out the door with both a megaphone and pirate hat screaming "damnit.. I didn't get to use ANY OF THESE tonight!" as apparently they had cut their set short (go figure?). And it was here that I stayed for the next hour and a half drinking the moon and the stars, completely oblivious to the world.. until it eventually dawned on me that there was a second show that I was meant to attending (damnit!). And so I drained my drink, bid adieu to the bohemian fringe around me and flew into the night.
10:09PM - Not surprisingly the second show's at The Ed Castle (I mean pfft.. it's either here or at Jive riiight!? maaan I gotta get me a new routine). However it's not the first time I'd been here this week or even tonight for that matter as I had dinner here a few hours earlier (duuude totally get the "Bangers & Mash" it'll blow your miiind!). Turns out I caught a show Friday night: Cassette Kids, Howl and Kids of 88 for Transmission Live, and hey you might've even seen me there, or at least momentarily until I snuck out during Howl. And as much as I'd love to explain why? especially the fact I didn't post a blog about it!? yeaaah let's just say we collectively dodged a bullet there and leave it at that *cough* (oh and I might've gotten obliteratingly drunk at The Crown & Anchor instead.. YAAAAY!!). And now I'm back again tonight!? yup here's hoping second time's a charm!
TWO SUNS (****) myspace :: Which brings us to the first sure sign we're in for a good night at The Ed Castle (ie: one that doesn't begin and end with lamearse punchlines at the expense of The Touch, or worse still a live set from The Touch.. YEEEOUCH!!) and that'd be our opening act Two Suns. Aaaah fuck I love psychedelia I really do! I mean you can NEVER go wrong with it can you? FUUUCK NO!! (and is that "sandalwood" burning incense sticks on their amps? hiiilarous!). Yup to be honest I've always been sucker for it, I've always had time for it and I've always been waaay to easy on it in written reviews too.. NO SHIT!! (yeaaah maybe because I spent four years of art school spacing out with freaks just like these, so they're totally like family to me.. which possibly explains more than it should). It's also arguably one of the easiest genres to bullshit on a live stage, I mean it's mostly just formless chaos and we simply read into it what we want to read riiight? which in MY case is a whole lot of weirdarse shit happening all at once.. "duuude is that a tangerine leopard turning inside out through the imploding eyeball of an ostrich!? awesome!". Still as deceptively simple as it may seem (give or take about a billion effects pedals and an appreciation for SpongeBob SquarePants) it's also one of the trickiest to truly master. And to do so I find you need an emotional "hook" to drive it forward. I mean there's no point inviting us on a mind bending journey without a simple motivating reason to do so is there!? HELL NOOO!! Which in the case of Two Suns appears to be catharsis; or more specifically white hot catharsis rendered so ridiculously FUCK OFF LOUD even dead people buried under hundreds and thousand of feet of sedimentary rock will be cupping their ears and screaming (and loving every minute of it). Yup if ever you've see them live the feeling is damn near unmistakable, the source of it undeniable: Mathias' Northway's Marshall guitar amp. With it cranked well into the infrared (and believe me it's enough psychotic volume to strip all the electrons out of every atom in your body) Mathias and his instrument are a mythological beast belching fire, they're a jugular injection of concentrate wasabi, they're fifty thousand atomic bomb blasts exploding out of a mosquito's sphincter, they're Michael Bay and Roland Emmerich joining forces to direct a 3D adaptation of Akira; and as it turns out? they really do wonders for your sinuses too! Hmmm. And coupled with Davison "Smoking Man" Jones' bassline attack alternating between hypnogogic whale song and rusted chainsaw (the subsonic intensity of which brought out brilliantly by the mix tonight), and Ben Smith's octopus drumming: this is a band that doesn't so much as open doors of perception as pile a bulldozer through them and tonight's set is definitely one of the best I've ever seen them play. In the loosest approximation you could figure it as Pink Floyd's "Meddle" meets Massive Attack's "Mezzanine" (or rather like Beowulf reinterpretted as a Boeing 747 engine fed through a megaphone), they only play three songs (or at least as much as I understand it) each them fifteen minutes in length.. give or take (in fact I'm pretty certain I'm only getting the same portion of a song over and over on video as they're next to impossible to tell apart) and each of them takes you from a tranquil origin to "OH MY FUCKING CRAP I'M GONNA DIE" (especially when the vocals hit) then back again. It's a journey that soothes like an exorcism, like a blast furnace, like being passed through the heart of a black hole.. and in the end you'll feel at least ten pounds lighter. Not so much because they've atomised out all of your insides, but more because a "dragon" as equally metaphoric as near incomprehensible has just been tamed within each of us all. Yup that's Two Suns. Take acid to this shit and it'd likely kill you, but as long as you can find a safe vantage (possibly somewhere on the dark side of Moon) whack on some welding googles, hazmat suit and hook up a catheter.. duuude you're in for one HELL of a ride!
REDCOATS (***) myspace :: Which brings us to our second act who are also loosely "psychedelic" in style, only apparently they're not from around here they're from Melbourne. Which isn't something I'd normally make such a point of, because hell who gives a flying monkey fuck where bands come from as long as they're awesome riiight? except that they're a PSYCHEDELIC BAND FROM MELBOURNE.. no really think about it. "Whoaaa fuck!? that's some freaky improbable shit right there!". Yup even better they're a psychedelic band from Melbourne that's found themselves slap bang in the middle of the "Cannabis Capital of the South", the "Amsterdam of the Antipodes", the one and only Adelaide THC *cough* I mean Adelaide CBD that's home to more dribbling dope fiends and art school dropouts per square kilometre than a KFC carpark on a Sunday afternoon in Jamaica (ie: if reading this blog didn't ALREADY make that fact bleedingly apparent) AND they're up against Two Suns and our headliners Lady Strangelove tonight!? "HA HA HA HA GOOD LUCK WITH THAT YA FUCKING IDIOTS!!". Still as much as Redcoats might be the proverbial underdogs here (no shit!) they still have a lot to offer us with their own unique take on the "intangible arts". In overall style (possibly influenced by their overcast city of origin) they veer towards the darker end of the psychedelic spectrum, more 70's in sound, more metal influenced, more grim and foreboding. Neil Wilkinson's guitars are much chunkier and roughly hewn defined. Rhys Kelly and Andrew Braidner's bass and drums are more urgent and howlingly paranoid. Think Black Sabbath mixed with Deep Purple, Black Mountain, Kyuss, Queens Of The Stone Age's "Songs For The Deaf" and Soundgarden and you wouldn't be far off the mark. Think two thirds the way into Apocalypse Now where it all goes pear shaped and you'll understand where their minds are at. But where it really finds its strength is not so much in the sound but more so in the wide range and variety in which they express it: from the hardest, nastiest riffage to most mellow of melancholy it makes for quite the hefty mood swing between the extremes. Lead singer Emilio Mercuri provides the main focus in delivering it (as admittedly he's the only one who's face isn't downcast under a mess of hair). He's the one who treats this whole performance most like a life and death struggle, like he's battling the microphone for his very mortal soul screaming to be heard while the rest of the band bury him under an endless barrage of audial abuse. He's also pulling all the maddest shapes on stage like a human slinky, like a coiled serpent in a way not too dissimilar to how Surahn Sidhu used to bug the fuck out in front of Morals Of A Minor (or for a reference less willfully obscure think Michael Hutchence from INXS and you'll get the picture). Still as much potential as they have (and they do), their live mix tonight is making it a bit hit and miss in the appreciation of it. For as much as they're absolutely killing it in the quieter numbers (so much so they even give Soundgarden's "Black Hole Sun" a run for its money) they tend to get buried in the louder songs. The minute the guitars build a wall of sound around us it rapidly devolves into a psychotic barrage of incoherent noise that all but buries the lead singer and leaves us with nothing tangible to grip on edgeways. Which is a little odd, because it appears they've brought in a dedicated mixer to take care of this shit (or at least I thought they did?) but there's still something "missing" here to pull it all into lysergic focus. But hey as long as you let your attention drift a bit in the louder bits and let everything blur out a little "impressionistic" in your headspace? yeaaah there's still quality shit to trip balls to here. Redcoats. It may've been like selling ice to eskimos for them here tonight, or more accurately like selling bags of leaf to dealers here when we're inundated with sticky icky orange buds and seeds the size of orangutans.. but when it's psychedelic shit duuude, who cares as long as we can still get high?
LADY STRANGELOVE (*****) myspace :: Which brings us to our headlining act who find themselves at a curious juncture. For not only have they survived and thrived as a band for more than four years now, which I think we can all agree makes them virtual "senior citizens" of the Adelaide scene: especially when you consider most other Adelaide acts here would've broken up before they even reached eighteen months, let alone released two EPs to their name (and by "most other Adelaide acts"? yeaaah clearly I mean I STILL haven't gotten over Lumonics breaking up waaay back in March 2009: "DAMN IT LUMONICS, WHY COULDN'T YOU RELEASE AN ALBUM, WHY DAMN YOU WHHHY!?"). But they're also a psychedelic band that's survived and thrived for more than four long years WITH THEIR ORIGINAL LINEUP. Well ok.. maybe a little LESS than four years since they lost their mysterious fifth member who used to play bongos and the sax back in 2006 (no really what happened to him!? ooooh they totally killed him, ate his kidneys, heart and brain and buried him in the desert didn't they!? YOU EVIL FUCKS!!) but you still get how rare this shit is riiight!? duuude it's unprecedented! Consider for a moment the lineup of almost every other psychedelic act that ISN'T The Chemical Brothers. Consider Pink Floyd when they lost Syd Barrett only to lose Roger Waters. Consider the untimely death of both Jim Morrison and Paul McCartney.. no.. no don't look at me like that WE ALL KNOW HE'S FUCKING DEAD!! (it's the only way we can explain Wings). Consider Wolfmother, actually no wait.. forget I even mentioned that, we all know Andrew Stockdale is dead to us too! Consider Wolf & Cub losing both Adam Edwards in 2007 and Thomas "The Wookie" Mayhew in 2009. Consider countless other equally talented psychedelic artists in the Adelaide scene who lost their freaking minds only to relocate to Melbourne (and yes that IS a link pointing to Mikey from Artax Mission.. but I could just as easily cite Morals Of A Minor too!). Psychedelia is an artform that makes mental patients out of us all, IT IS VERILY THE BEAST!! But not with Lady Strangelove. OOOOH NO!! up until now they have thrived where others have failed by showing no fear, by diving straight into the eye of the psychedelic shitstorm wide eyed and grinning, by being a brotherhood united in melting our fucking faces to the floor! But of course I'm saying "up until now" because after four years they're losing their drummer Damon "The Omen" Satanek. Yes I know.. it was a shock to me too, it was even more of a shock to THEM! Word is he's leaving to find himself again, or maybe he's looking to find where he left his car keys, or maybe he's looking to find the "seventh seal" to usher in the apocalypse (huh what!?) either way it's a bittersweet moment: they'll miss him dearly and I dare say we might too! And here at The Ed Castle tonight in tribute to all he's given to this band (and so much more) they're sending him off with one FUCK of a farewell! Yup THIS is Lady Strangelove going above and beyond the call of duty here, this is Lady Strangelove shredding every one of their songs to within an inch of their lives and exploding it in our faces like candy confetti, This is Lady Strangelove tearing holes through the fabric of the spacetime continuum and shitting out synaesthesic flavours the likes of which we'd never seen before! And if you missed it? duuude you missed the life and death of the entire universe unfolding in front of your very eyes, YOU MISSED EVERYTHING!! I mean it was well beyond all recorded definitions of sorcery and science, it was a superspeed psychedelic rinse out so utterly flawless in its articulate shit grinning design that every one of us was skull fuckingly tweaking on the dancefloor like there was no tomorrow! HA HA HA HA duuude.. I mean WHOAAA!! Just watch the video and maybe you'll understand, or maybe you just had to be here for I am rendered utterly incomprehesible in its passing (because in case you haven't noticed I've completely lost my miiind!). And now that we've reached the end with Damon's departure!? as much as we might think this is the end of the band too, as much as we might think our lives are now forfeit.. apparently it's a new beginning as well? Yup, they've just enlisted Fox Faehrmann from Double Handed to play drums, they've just made plans to record a new EP in California (yes California) in October and after a show this unprecedented? who KNOWS what they'll be capable of now!? It won't be the same Lady Strangelove.. we know that much, it'll be something new and stranger still! But I dare say whatever it is? it'll still melt our faces to the fucking floor!
1:49AM - Yup as much as I can recall it took me a good twenty minutes before I found the exit from the band room (but only after crashing into every single wall on the way out). And as much as that sounds a little odd? it's not all that unusual in the aftermath of a Lady Strangelove set. OH NOT AT ALL!! I mean there's always a slight period of readjustment isn't there!? you find yourself screaming at light fixtures, randomly licking things, sometimes people, and you know how on an aeroplane when you reach a certain altitude whatever-the-fuck and your ears pop? yeaaah it's kinda like that.. only you find yourself existing at all points of the universe at once, then you're a pot plant for about five seconds (yeah that's a little awkward), all the colours strobe and then you find yourself on the roof. Either way I suuure was thirsty and I was very much looking forward to hitting the bar.. after I got DOWN from the roof (easier said than done), loading up on beers and returning to the band room; only to find myself hanging out with these wacky "doorbitches" Olivia and Laura instead, laughing it up having the time of our lives, completely unrelated to the fact that they might've had pizza on them (yeaaah ok.. it was mostly just for that). But no really, aren't these two (and sometimes Anika) the most wondrous and adorable freaks for letting me in for free everytime I go to The Ed Castle? aren't they awesome!? I mean I REALLY don't give them enough credit do I!? (sometimes I even flick lit matches at them and run like hell before they see me) BUT YOU GUYS.. YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST!! And is that hawaiian? WHAT!? *cough* oh nothing!
But alas before I could steal me a slice of pizza (shit.. did I just say that out loud!? IDIOT!!) I'm interrupted by one of the bouncers. Yeaaah it's anyone's guess why HE'S here, it might've been so he could get a photo here and maybe it was their idea like HA HA HA you guys are hiiilarious! but yeaaah he clearly had to go. I mean no offence duuude but THAT'S MY FREAKING PIZZA!! (again.. really shouldn't verbalise that shit out loud). And so thinking quickly off the top of my head, I told the bouncer Laura's ID was fake, she's actually 17, she doesn't even work here (and she has three ounces of weed on her) and in the resulting kerfuffle I nabbed the whole box and ran like hell.
2:17AM - The first place I could think to hide was the pokies lounge. And yes I realise it was only what? all of two metres away from the front door where Laura was being thrown out kicking and screaming.. but let's face it it's also the LAST PLACE ANYONE WOULD EVEN THINK TO FIND ME TOO. And I know this for a fact because this is where I stumbled into Ross Osmon. Turns out he's also in hiding because Josh Moore from The Touch kept following him around all night with his pants around his ankles asking him "where the toilets were" (and did you know that as their band manager Ross actually gets legitimate dibs on all the handicap parking spaces in Adelaide by proxy? *cough* true story!). Yup Ross truly does it ALL for the Adelaide scene don't he? duuude he's a freaking legend! Not only as The Touch's band manager/babysitter/prostitute "disposal unit" but also as an indie DJ and a wildly sucessful club promoter: genius mastermind behind the likes of Transmission, Transmission Live, Plus One aaand Sputnik no less!? FUUUCK OFF!! I mean it's anyone's guess HOW he manages to scam all this insane shit considering he has likely even less qualification for it than I do (like pfft.. how hard can it be to be an indie DJ? play, pause, eject!? duuude that's like three buttons!) but for all the good he does in somehow making The Ed Castle a half "respectable" live venue each week, when most of the people here still don't even know where the band room is!? is a true talent that should never be underappreciated! And no *cough* he can't have any of my pizza, I don't care if he bought it in the first place.. IT'S MINE DAMNIT!!
3:01AM - Sufficiently weirded out by Ross just now, I rushed to the bar with the urge to drink myself hysterically blind, or even MORE SO than the ten beers I'd already drunk upto this point (only to realise moments into this "suicide mission" that I'd left the pizza with Ross and I just fell for the oldest trick in the book.. BAAASTARD!!). But clearly conventional beer wouldn't do. I needed something much MUCH stronger, or more accurately much MUCH stupider, but still something that tasted a lot like "beer". Beer plus vodka maybe.. a "boilermaker" if you will!? suuure if I wanted to kill myself and repaint the ceiling at the same time. But as it turned out pure happenstance came up with an even better plan. Upon ordering up my usual, I couldn't help but notice a stray bottle of tabasco behind the bar, a bottle of tabasco just within reach. I looked at my beer, looked at the tabasco, looked back at my beer again.. hmmm.. and a good five minutes later when I finally "put two and two together" and realised none of the bar staff were looking? I yanked it, shook a good 10-15 drops into my beer, threw it back where I found it and fled the scene laughing.. WOOOO!!
3:03AM - Yup I wasn't too sure what just I invented here, or even if this was MY invention in the first place.. I mean shit duuude maybe I just unconsciously appropriated it from the collective "monkey consciousness" from which all shitcrazy cocktail ideas arise? maaaybe! Either way this was a flavour sensation that just could not be beat! FUCK MAAAN it was nothing short of a monolithic revelation! An icey cold beer with a scorching chilli burn "aftertaste" and just a teeny tiny hint of tomato? No shit! I just had to share this invention with everyone around me. I just had to repeat this experiment again and again! The reaction was unanimous! The expressions of amazement utterly priceless! it was a winner through and through: as these photos here very much attest to..
3:04AM - Obviously we didn't have a name for it, it least nothing that could be translated into any combination of the 26 letters found in the English alphabet (a later commentator would come to christen it "tabeersco"?) all we DID know is that it called for "riotous celebration". A round of shots was promptly called for and just as quickly devoured in "triumph". Only for me to call up another beer, mix up another tabeersco and continue to spread the joy around the bar. YEAAAS!!
3:05AM - Yeaaah it's anyone's guess how I ended up HERE again. Even more puzzling that Laura was still here despite the "fact" she was thrown out an hour ago (as yeaaah I readily admit I didn't think that joke through). Hey I know! maybe next time I could stash a bag of coke and a replica firearm on her, call up the cops and THEN see what happens!? (huh what!? OH OF COURSE I'M KIDDING!!) and are those croissants now!? Awww crap! the sooner I leave The Ed Castle the better!
3:57AM - Which is exactly what I did hour later when I eventually found that exit, or perhaps a window I could break and leap arse backwards through in lieu of an "exit", or maybe after I downed three more tabeersco's "for the road", woke up head first in the koi pond out back only to hit the bar for another round. And as for why I'm featuring THIS photo all of a sudden? Sheeeiit why the fuck else duuude!? they totally serve up two slabs for only $10 HOW FUCKING MENTAL IS THAT!? oh.. you mean to tell it's not for slabs of beer it's for cockroach "pizza"!? pfft.. that blows!
4:11AM - After nonchalantly bluffing my way past the bouncer with a nod and a wink and walking downstairs; or perhaps more accurately burping in his face whilst simultaneously giving him the two thumbs up and falling head first down every step along the way for a crash landing to the bottom (and yet the doorbitch still let me in for free!? AWESOME!!) I immediately hit the bar for another round.. I mean there's no point quitting now, clearly I'm on a winning streak! And it's here that I bump into these two: I have no fucking clue WHO they are, I've never met them before in my entire life, I don't even know if they know ME or not, or why they've requested this photo? or if they simply pull this shit with everyone they meet? or why the blonde on the right has decided to steal one of my fingerless gloves!? and yet heeere we are regardless! awesome huh!? YOU BETCHA!!
4:31AM - Yup clearly I've lost all grip on reality by now. Or at least if we figure "reality" to be a balloon, someone's just popped it with a pin and now it's gone all "pfffplplplplplll.." off into the ether. Or in other words? I believe this video presentation pretty much sums it all up.. YEEEOUCH!!
4:35AM - And yet somehow in spite of all this, in spite of the fact I barely possess enough brain power now to "light a fart" let alone maintain inner ear equilibrium I still choose to contribute yet more retarded shit for this blog? And even more disturbingly freaks from far and wide still happily continue to dive laughing in front of my camera lens in the hopes that they can make a starring appearance in it!? FERFUCKSAKE PEOPLE!! DONT YOU REALISE IT'S ALL A JOKE!? IT'S A FUCKING JOKE PEOPLE!! I write a pissy little blog on the Adelaide scene, nobody in their right mind ever actually reads it.. NOBODY!! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU ALL THINKING, HUH!? ANSWER ME DAMNIT!! At which point Melinda here pops up all "chipmunk" exciteable into frame and.. aaaah screw it!
(I mean she pulled such mad facials here.. how could I possibly refuse!?)
4:43AM - Which was an "opportune moment" as any for Ben Brew here to make a last minute appearance in this blog for no other reason than he was hoping for a repeat of the exact same fucked up photo he got in this blog two weeks ago.. only like most sequels, not nearly as good the second time around. And yet I still choose to take it anyways? yeaaah because who the hell cares WHAT the reasons are duuude? it's a pisshead "dry humping" a trashcan at Supermild a little shy of 5AM, I mean what more do you want from me here? a full psychological breakdown!? SHEEESH!!