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...
AVANT GARDENERS + THE CRYING GAME + FAKE TAN LIVE @ FORMAT / Saturday July 31st 2010
In every episode of this blog I make a choice. I choose which bands I go see, I go see them and then I go home to write about them. Sounds simple enough riiight? I mean what the fuck is there to "write about" in the Adelaide music scene anyways? especially in the dead of winter!? HA HA HA NOTHING YOU FUCKING IDIOTS!! all our live acts moved to Melbourne or Sydney yeaaars ago (or simply broke up), everyone else bought microkorgs or glockenspiels instead, so now all our "live shows" are little more than hipster elite "indie dance club" fashion parades with ridiculously long lineups outside. I've been covering for the shortfall ever since with sock puppets, a desk lamp and a few too many hours spent on a laptop (no really how fucking awesome am I?) and thanks to my a-grade aptitude for bullshit? none of you nitwits have been any the wiser.. YEAAAS!! Or at least I kinda wish it was that "easy" because duuude? the reality is so much worse! Yup every day, even in the dead of winter now, I get flooded with facebook events, emails, flyers and text messages all screaming for my attendance. And the only way I don't go fucking insane in attempting to choose between them all is by following a few simple "rules". Firstly I go see whatever I want to go see: it's my blog damnit, I don't get paid for it and if you seriously disagree you can all go suck a fuck. Secondly the bigger the better: if it's a launch, debut, "once off" or farewell it'll instantly act as veto (unless it violates the first rule). Thirdly: the quality of the support acts will always act as tiebreaker between two competing headliners (especially if it's a shit support act). Fourthly: the more variety in bands and venues the better (because yes there IS such a thing as too much Sincerely Grizzly). And lastly but not least: do whatever it takes to convince your audience that "indie disco" is long dead even if all evidence points to the contrary (ie: by avoiding The Ed Castle). And as much as following all the above HAS lead me to feature some of the finest shows this Adelaide scene has to offer in 2010? (ie: by avoiding any shows by The Touch) I occassionally get this teeny tiny voice telling me I'm actually going to all the WRONG shows instead. And the reason WHY I'm going to "all the wrong shows" is because I clearly haven't been choosing enough shows HERE at Format.
And THIS is their "shit hot" show I couldn't possibly refuse tonight? Awesome huh!? TOTALLY!! And it's not just because there's fuckall else happening tonight to compete, pfft.. of course not! WHY WOULD YOU EVER THINK THAT!? (as much as it's potentially true) but also because it's the best shit happening tonight, PERIOD (as much as it's actually a "semi colon" and you're all idiots if you didn't attend). And as much as you may doubt my claim by the simple fact that you likely don't know who ANY of these arseclowns are (let alone what a "nine piece psychorock arkestra" is) by the time I'm through with all of this insanity? no shit you'll totally be kicking yourself retarded over everything you just missed out on! Format? fuck damn duuude, why AREN'T I here more often!?
Yup for those of you otherwise unitiated: Format is an artist's run co-op, live venue, shop front (for a whimsical array of homespun zine publications and independently released CDs; including a newly installed desktop terminal where you can cook up your own freebie "mixtape" compilations licensed through Creative Commons) and multi-purpose exhibition space operating out of 15 Peel Street between Currie, Hindley and King William street (or simply look for an alleyway matching THIS description courtesy of Google Maps and yeaaah it shouldn't be too hard to find). Or for those of you somewhat initiated: you might recognise it as the "former" site for the Format Festival back in late February to mid March this year (as part of the Adelaide Festival Fringe). But what you might NOT know is.. far from closing down at the end of the festival? they simply picked up a year long lease instead and kept on partying: throwing all manner of batshit insane art exhibitions, live shows and mini festivals for the wonder and amazement of all those involved (and YES I'm totally kicking myself retarded that I missed out on all that crazy shit too). Better yet if ever you happen to catch a "fully licensed" live show here like tonight, they totally offer ridiculously cheap price drinks at the bar: $5 stubbies and $9 long neck bottles of beer? duuude WHAT'S NOT TO LOVE!?
This is their donations bowl at the bar. And the only reason WHY I'm mentioning it here now isn't to signify that YES this is an artist's run co-op, and since most "artists" are by their very nature "starving" (and if they're not they're accountants and they're not fooling anyone) and the beers we buy are actually paying their rent and any further contribution IS very much appreciated; but more to point out that there's a plastic budgie in there and that's nothing short of ridiculously badass.
And then there's THIS sign: also found at the bar (and easily my favourite part of Format by far) listing comprehensive "Snorkel Safety" instructions. Now obviously I've got no clue what an actual "snorkel" is: whether it's a beer bong, a shotgun, a freak combination of the two, or a bona-fide snorkel you'd normally breathe through with an accompanying face mask if it weren't for the fact you were skolling "paint thinner" at the time. But seriously duuude, the next time I'm here I'm SO gonna try this shit out just so I can say "BAM!" at the end of every one of them.. who's with me!?
Now for the most part (including the sign above) very little appears to have changed with Format in the past five months since I've been here (short of somewhat "moodier" lighting). For one they're still featuring a wide selection of zines for sale in the shop front including their shiny new in-house publication: "The Complete Home For The Def & Other Stories" which a friend of mine gave me recently signed by the author Stan Mahoney; only for him to further add that I was "going to the WRONG SHOWS" (hence the intro). They're still exhibiting artworks in the "Fauso Coppi" gallery upstairs, in fact three new exhibitions just opened on Friday night: "Intimacies", "If Only We Were Kids Again" and "Small Problems". But downstairs in the "McKeague Space" is where it's REALLY happening.. and not just because that's where all the live bands are tonight (and clearly I'm totally retarded for that crap) but also because it features THIS. Now again I obviously have no clue what "THIS" is short of it being a giant statue (and I doubt downing a snorkel will help), but in lieu of any actual information? I like to call it the "Jade Monkey on a shitload of acid". Awesome huh!?
SARAH CHADWICK (****) myspace :: We brings me somewhat ambiguously to our opening act tonight, the first of five (yes.. FIVE!). And as much as that's making my head explode all on its own, I should probably ALSO mention it's not helped one teeny tiny bit by the fact that I got rubbishingly shitfaced last night (and no it wasn't on record here, at least not on written record, but SHIT DAMN it was hilarious fun "celebrating" it all the same!) and my body's suddenly decided to suffer all the after effects of it now.. OOOOH FUCK IS IT EVER!! Or maybe I've been struck down with one of those wacky "24 hour" ebola, encephalitic, tsetse sleeping sickness viral strains all the cool kids are spreading about of late (because H1N1 is SO last season along with Asian bird flu and the bubonic plague) either way I'm frantically downing this long neck of sparking ale hoping like hell it's a "hair of the dog". And the main reason WHY I'm mentioning all this now? is because clearly it ain't doing shit for me (but I'm sure as shit not gonna give up until it does) but whatever the hell Sarah Chadwick is singing and playing on her acoustic guitar now certaintly is. And maybe we should find a way to bottle THAT into some kind of comedown KFC chicken soup booster shot "now with added guarana, B12 and ginseng!" and maybe we'll finally have a surefire remedy for that mysterious writer's block I always seem to get between Sunday morning and Tuesday night each week (hmmm yes.. "mysterious") and I wouldn't have so many "head sized" dents in my laptop keyboard, and.. wait where was I again? oh yeaaah, Sarah Chadwick! Yup you may recognise her as the lead singer of Batrider, or if you don't (because she arguably DOES sing mostly through her hair) then maybe you remember her band from a review I wrote a few weeks back (and a glowing one at that), or a band I also once described three years back as sounding like "a grainy 16mm black & white snuff film of Courtney Love going hard at it on PJ Harvey with a whisky bottle" (I know.. what's not to love!?). Only tonight as an acoustic act she sounds a little different here, and by "a little different" I mean maybe a little more reflective and introspective. In the loosest of sketches you could think of it as a mix between Kim Gordon, Cat Power, Janis Joplin and maybe a sprinkle of J Mascis. It's a smokey blues sound, the sort you could wallow in for days like a warm bath waiting to drop the toaster in (which isn't to say it sounds like "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Aeroplane) measured out in one slowly strummed guitar chord and one mournful verse after another. Or in other words it sounds exactly like the horrific hangover I'm suffering through right now, only infinitely more existentially wraught and downright poetic. And where she really nails it is not just in the weatherbeaten character of her voice, in how it crackles, crumbles and falls apart before you like an antique book but in the lyrics which she expresses the full weight of it. Every song she sings is about heatbreak, or longing, or harrowing despair but it's in all the teeny tiny details (seemingly trivial on their own) in how she paints it, that make it all the more authentic. Most of the songs she does solo, but she sings one as a sombre duet with fellow bandmate (and drummer) Stephanie Crase. You don't so much as listen to them all, as let it wash over you like a medicated trance. And as much as I missed maybe the first third of it arriving late tonight? duuude believe me it's no less potent! Sarah Chadwick. It's like she's singing a funeral rite for us all and maybe even handing us the shovel.. and yet we still feel all the better for it.
THE WITCH (***1/2) myspace :: Which brings us to our second act The Witch (formerly Diesel Witch) who I already wrote about last week when they supported Angelik and Generation Swine at The Ed Castle and yes it was pretty much the "same shit different smell" 60's surf guitar/grunge/garage rock sound they rolled out TONIGHT give or take a slight setlist shuffle (but in a totally "awesome" way I swear!) so I don't know why the hell I'm writing them another review so soon. I mean did I mention there's five bands on tonight? five freaking bands!? what is this a launch party? is this a mini festival all a sudden!? WHO THE FUCK EVEN DOES THAT SHIT!? DAAAAMN YOU STAN MAHONEY!! And yet I'm still writing one regardless: and not just for the sake of me making a fat "chunk of text" to prop up on all these photos I took (although admittedly it IS mostly that and I'm not fooling anyone here) but also to point out a few teeny tiny differences that made this set all the more memorable. First off their singer/guitarist/drummer Chris "Bird Beak" Busbridge (aka: the mop top one in the stripes) was suffering the illbient effects of a particularly nasty ebola, encephalitic, tsetse sleeping sickness tonight, or maybe it was just the common cold or flu (or maybe he was just hilariously hungover like I was) either way fellow singer/guitarist/drummer Luke "Moon Face" Willis continued to give us "helpful" updates on his condition. Which mostly amounted to him telling us that Chris ate "week old cheese" and "he may throw up any minute now" (yup informative as ever) and as much as it may've given them a more muted performance as a result, it also gave us that added element of "danger" which is always a plus (or at least as long as you keep a hand over your beer). Secondly their bass player Jack Smith (who needs no descriptive nickname in "quotations" as he's the only one who actually plays the bass) was using a guitar pick, which is note worthy simply because the last time I saw them he was using a 50 cent piece (yes.. I know!). Then there was the smoke machine that they brought in, which they used rather excessively throughout their set, and most frequently by pointing it directly at my face and blasting like a fire extinguisher whenever I aimed a camera at them. Which as funny as it was for them and everyone else present, and even I couldn't stop laughing at it (and likely every live band in Adelaide is giving them a high five right now.. you shitweasels!) short of obscuring the drummer half the time? yeaaah it actually made fuckall difference to the photos; and at worse probably even added to the overall ambience. It also could be said that Format is very much more their kind of live venue. Being a band more prone to frequenting The Squatter's Arms, The Exeter or obscurearse alleyway shows (and to think I even tried attending one once earlier this month but it got cancelled? aaaah gotta love the irony!) they were very much more in their element. It was dark, dingy and all kinds of artfully scruffy in here. The audience was infinitely more appreciative, not hard considering both times I saw them earlier this year was at the freaking Ed Castle (where most people forget there even IS a band room) but even so next to everyone in here was dancing up a storm from beginning to end. So as much as the band wasn't performing at their peak? yup it was still a mad buzz all the same. The Witch. They maybe the "same shit different smell" from last week, but duuude it's still worth repeating!
And just to "sweeten the deal" tonight The Witch were also giving away copies of their latest EP "...From The Sea To The Swamp". And yes it's anyone's guess WHY they were doing this (quite like that "Best Of..." compilation they gave away for free earlier this year) as I'm pretty sure they didn't even do a launch party to promote it's release, or maybe they did and it was an alleyway show and I never heard about it. Even so it's not like I can complain, because I scored myself a copy of it and yes it's at least five kinds of ridiculously awesome. Especially that sixth song "Find Your Way Home" where they totally switch gears in the final minute and bust out this hilariously fucked up R&B tune complete with butchered autotuning. I mean really, how is it that bands THIS ridiculously inspired not getting due credit out there while retardedarse "buzz bands" get all the airplay and accolades? WHERE'S THE JUSTICE IN THAT HUH!? aaaah screw this shit I'm going back to the bar!
FAKE TAN (***1/2) myspace :: Which brings us to our third act tonight (wait did I mention there's five..? oh nevermind!), who short of an interview on Underdale Facepalm a few months back, I knew absolutely nothing about. Apparently they're relatively new to the Adelaide scene, they've been playing shows with Bitch Prefect and Dud Pills (at who the fuck knows where? but I assume it's been The Metro). And quite like those other two bands? yeaaah they're pretty much into the whole lo-fi atonal trash 60's garage rock schtick; the same "lo-fi atonal trash 60's garage rock schtick" that pretty much every dickhead and their dog seems to be cashing in on of late as the next big thing in shit hot uber indie (unless I'm mistaken and everyone's still banging on about "chillwave" and "dubstep" like they did back in 2009 *yawn*). But in the case of Fake Tan here? yeaaah it's not necessarily a bad thing as they totally make it their own. In a nutshell you could think of them as being a blissfully shambolic mix between the rougher edges of say Sonic Youth, The Black Lips, I Heart Hiroshima, Eddy Current Suppression Ring and Wavves. Or in other words they sound absolutely nothing like them and I'm merely dredging up the exact same "laughably innacurate" references I used for Dud Pills a month ago (and I likely need to start feverishly collecting at least fifty odd no-name artists from the 60's now if ever I'm gonna stay "relevant".. JOY!). Still as much as they do share a lot in common with Dud Pills (down to their willfully atonal aesthetic) Fake Tan very much gun for "wide eyed naivity"; and I dare say it's the best thing about them. Featuring three members on stage: Tom Moran, Ryan Kenny and Vincent Le (with all three of them frequently swapping between vocals, guitar, bass and drums) the first thing that strikes me is in how ridiculously young they all look. NO SHIT!! I mean I've seen highschool bands before, but I'm pretty sure this is the first instance I've ever seen of a primary school band.. and yet as much as that curly haired midget with the glasses (Vincent?) DOES look like he's 12!? turns out he actually turned 18 two months ago, go figure? Secondly it's in their laughable near "incompetence" in being able to play any of their instruments (and yet in a weirdly "endearing" way that only but aids their sound). And I'm not even kidding! it actually takes them 3-4 aborted attempts TO START THEIR FIRST SONG (they never get past the ten second mark each time), only to realise that both their guitar and bass are wildly out of tune, only to realise they don't even know how to get them IN tune (HA HA HA!!), only for one of their girlfriends to chip in (or at least I'm assuming?), only that doesn't work either so they rope in bass player Sam Featherstone from Batrider to sort their shit out, only to finally start their show for real ten minutes later.. DUUUDE!! And yet even so, it all starts to make sense the minute you focus on the songs themselves (to the point you wonder if they're actually geniuses at it). Between 2-3 minutes long every one of them is an ode to adolescence it its most awkward. From their clunky chords, swing door rhythms and shrieking 60's gang harmonies to the lyrics themselves. One song has the chorus "we can go back to my place, because my parents aren't home", another one is all about holding hands and everytime it's delivered with utmost conviction like they're living it in the "here and now". In fact they're every inch an acid flashback not just to simple pimply innocence, but also to a golden era of 50's and 60's rock. So much so duuude? they're practically Ron Howard from Happy Days made into a musical. And before too long? I swear you can't help but grin ear to ear to it. Yup that's Fake Tan. They're proverbial zygotes performing embryo rock.. but in such a way that even "grizzled old bastards" like myself can appreciate it.
THE CRYING GAME (n/a) myspace :: Which brings us to our fourth act, and by the time they arrived on stage? yup this band room was totally packed out to the ceiling. So much so in fact it was downright impossible for me to duck and weave through to the frontlines to take photos (at least for the first few songs) as every available inch was occupied by hipster "scene girls" who'd likely tear me limb from limb if ever I dared step or sneeze anywhere near them; or more than likely they'd just glare at me from afar in that totally dismissive way that they're ever so good at (and I'll readily admit that spooks the hell out of me) and oh wait.. you likely don't give a shit about any of that do you? because you're likely wondering why I didn't give them a solid rating out of five riiight!? "N/A!? WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH THAT SHIT!?" yeaaah well let me explain. You see everytime I've reviewed this band in the past (and this would be my third time tonight) I've always given them a "five out of five". And everytime I've given them that it's been very much deserved because YES they're freaking brilliant at what they do (or more accurately brilliant at what they utterly fail to do). And as much as I could easily give them a "five out five" AGAIN because this show was nothing short of hilariously awesome and eye gougingly insane? yeaaah I'm beginning to suspect that they've found a loophole here and they're exploiting it for all it's worth. Yup to put it bluntly The Crying Game are not "a real band", THEY'RE A COVER BAND, they're a direct violation of everything we hold dear as a live music scene; I mean what the fuck am I even doing here duuude!? But they're also a cover band that doubles as an Adelaide supergroup of damn near apocalyptic proportions (if only according to all the "apocalyptic" egos that they've somehow assembled in the one place without exploding) and let's face it for THAT it's well worth the "price of admission" alone. Featuring Matt Banham from No Through Road, Matt Hayward from Central Deli Band, Mike Radzevicius from Aviator Lane, Lachlan Wilson from Steering By Stars, Luke Eygenraam from The Waterslides and Sam Stearne from Fire! Santa Rosa, Fire! (who's absent tonight as he's on tour) it's truly astounding how much talent they've sourced. But what's even MORE astounding, is how brilliantly this talent is then squandered. For The Crying Game aren't just a cover band, they're the WORST cover band you've ever seen, where every song is butchered so badly it goes beyond comedy and practically borders on a "religious experience" (in blithering incompetence) and tonight's performance very much gives us more of the same (and then some!). Yup right from the very first song (an hilariously hamfisted rendition of The Church's "The Unguarded Moment") they explode onto this stage like a cross between a karaoke club and a demolition derby. Within minutes the crowd is sent flying as Mike Radzevicius with guitar raised and arms swinging wildly is let loose like a bowling ball to ten pins (and I foolishly seize my opportunity to fill in the gap in the frontlines, knowing full well I'd likely be the next one to get my teeth knocked out) and yet he's hardly the craziest one out there. Every member of this band is pulling the stupidest, loudest, most exaggerate wankarse "rock moves" as they collide, tackle each other to the ground and totally forget what they're meant to be playing. In other words the setlist is largely immaterial, they're predominantly cheese stadium rock and power ballads from the 80's, but there are the occassional highlights here. From their utterly shambolic rendition of The Angel's "She Keeps No Secrets From You", to the Fine Young Cannibals "She Drives Me Crazy" sung by Lachlan Wilson (for the first time WITHOUT a shitload of effects pedals) to a mad cover of Bruce Springsteen's "Dancer In The Dark" featuring guest vocals by Benjamin Cooper from Bronze Chariot (which totally works in every way it shouldn't) and yet in identifying all these songs? they still come out sounding like the same drunken disaster. I mean if you could imagine Chris Cornell from Soundgarden combining with Rage Against The Machine to form Audioslave? only it's a fucked up cover band and it's a THOUSAND TIMES WORSE!? duuude you'd barely scrape the surface. They're a laughable contradiction in terms. They defy all attempts to review them "objectively". They're The Crying Game. Just go see them already: you'll laugh so hard you'll cause yourself a head concussion.. and even if you don't? they'll certaintly help "finish the job". Encore! ENCORE!!
AVANT GARDENERS (****1/2) myspace :: And just when you thought we had more than enough "carnage" for one night.. and I mean that quite literally as Lachlan Wilson stumbled off stage with a bleeding head injury: just one of many in a long list of war wounds The Crying Game have incurred in their exceptionally short career; lest we forget their first show back in March when Matt Banham broke his hand by punching the ceiling a little too "enthusiastically" (and believe me that's the least of it) heeere comes our headlining act! YAHOOO!! And as much as you would think ANY "headlining act" foolish enough to call themselves that would be utterly anti-climatic by comparison!? this band still held their own quite famously. Yup this is the Avant Gardeners. And if you haven't heard of them before.. then surely you haven't lived. In the loosest of laughably vague terms you could think of them as Interpol (especially in the blacker than black guitar and rhythm section), as fronted by Thurston Moore from Sonic Youth (with perhaps a little bit of Johnny Cash thrown in for good measure), as reinterpretted as a nine piece "Desert Sessions" style psychedelic jam band, only at any given time there could be anywhere between five to fifteen members up there (I mean it's kinda hard to tell in the dark like that? but I'm pretty sure the entire audience was in it at some point) and yet at the same time it's more like a gospel choir for blues musicians than anything else.. and wait, where was I again!? Nope the best way to explain this band is to start with their lead singer Sandy Cenin. He's the seemingly "sensible" businessman type, salt and pepper hair, ego like a small skyscraper, holding a mop aloft like a talisman tonight. Only he's christened it Ashley and now he's serenading it: "say hello to Ashley everyone!" *awkward pause*.. hmmm yup perfectly normal behaviour I assure you. He's the mad figurehead for this whole operation. Or more accurately he's the "mad stream of consciousness" in lieu of lyrics, preaching at a pulpit more than singing, about a life lived you could only half imagine because it's that freakingly badass. Or kinda like the musical equivalent of that ridiculously righteous quote Samuel L Jackson gives in Pulp Fiction before he shoots everyone (minus perhaps the religious connotations). He's the stage presence front and centre that simply cannot be denied in pointed finger and dead eyed stare, from which the rest of the band orbits like a small solar system. Again I've got no clear clue how many members are actually in on this: the facebook lists twenty one, the poster says nine, I've only got a clear count of six out there (until I discovered an extra member hiding behind a pillar on the Korg who makes seven) with two or more lurking interchangeably in the shadows on guitar; but the sound they make is truly something else. Like a swirling lysergic stew they add and subtract an infinite number of elements seamlessly wherever they see fit to meet the ebb and flow demands of Sandy's existential tirades. There'll be upright tribal drums layering syncopated over a full kit, a gunning dirge of guitars, swirling bass rhythms, keys, shrieking backup vocals in gang chorus, and at one point a truly face melting cowbell jam that builds from nothing into an exploding crescendo after ten minutes or so of hypnogogic madness.. duuude it totally melts your face off. And yes I realise this review makes very little in the way of subsequent sense in describing it: especially in reference to any kind of songlisting, lyrics or any explanation at all that could make sense of what he was doing with that mop!? but yeaaah they're just that kind of band, you don't question what the mind can't answer, you just float. Avant Gardeners: part life affirmation with a loaded gun to the head, part "sowing the seeds of dissent" with a molotov cocktail in hand and 100% bona-fide band for the people!
1:55AM - And as much as you might think I'm rambling a whole lot of superlative gibberish here without any quantifying evidence to back it up (no really watch the video maaan, they're freaking badass!) we need only look to the crowd around us to realise I'm not the only one mad bugging out to this shit. Not least of which the aforementioned "you're going to the WRONG SHOWS" Stan Mahoney: published author, medical test subject, and one of the many masterminds behind Format (and yes I know you're looking at me all weirdly like that.. but I swear he'll be hailed as a "scene legend" in years to come!) who chose this exact moment to totally losing his mind out front.. WOOOO!! And no he wasn't the only one doing it either, it was a fucking circus out there, but yeaaah I was just a little hesistant to point my camera anywhere near them lest it get eaten.
2:11AM - And speaking of risk to both life and limb, the festivities obviously didn't end with the live bands.. OOOOH FUCK NO!! The minute Avant Gardeners left the stage (to much hooting applause and broken beer bottles) the DJs kept the party raging. And by "DJs" I clearly mean a laughable approximation of such: as both Matt Hayward and Mike Radzevicius from The Crying Game tag-teamed on an ipod: the former providing all manner of 80's stadium cheese, while the latter pretty much provided more of the same only oriented a little too heavily towards Pat Benatar and Prince. Either way don't they look ever so overjoyed to be appearing on camera!? YEAAAS!!
This is the dancefloor. As much as it's not really a "dancefloor" at all but a basement of a former St Vinnies on 15 Peel Street with a few loud speakers blasting a cheesy DJ mix, only everyone's far too "blissfully shitfaced" out of their skulls to care. No really.. how ridiculously awesome is THAT!?
And if ever there was any doubt remaining that I truly DID pick "the best show happening" in Adelaide tonight, completely unrelated to the fact there was fuckall else to compete (and believe me I looked!) then check out this mad improvised drumming accompanying the DJs on stage right now. Who IS she and why is she doing this? who knows? WHO THE FUCK CARES!? If your show didn't have shitcrazy spontaneous crap like THIS happening tonight then you totally suck at life!
2:18AM - But alas all good things "eventually" had to come to an end.. or at least at the bar, as it was now closed (as "cheerfully modelled" by Stan Mahoney here). Which admittedly mattered little to all the dancefloor whooping it up downstairs for another hour, but at least for the sake of my gratuitous binge drinking upstairs? yeaaah I might have to start thinking of elsewhere to go. Hmmm.. and just WHERE in all the bleedingly obvious locations would I choose to go to next!?
2:34AM - Of course I was in no hurry to get there just yet, because hell I was at Format and I DID still have a half finished long neck bottle of sparkling ale to deal with (not the same one from before mind you I might have bought two subsequent) and aaaah fuck it.. can't I just live here? I mean check out "random dude" spaced out on the couch there? I COULD TOTALLY BE THAT GUY!!
2:55AM - And then just a few short minutes AFTER I finished that beer and thus lost all incentive to be there? (short of reading all the hilarious graffiti they keep in the toilets.. weeee!) I found myself surfacing here at my first "bleedingly obvious location". One which I won't name in passing because (a) it says so in the photo, (b) I'm always fucking here, and (c) I was only here for all of four minutes anyways because it kinda "blew a horse" (no really, where the fuck was everyone tonight!?). Still for the record I will point out a funny incident I had just before entering: when the bouncer stopped me and asked me to do one of those "hop on one leg" sobriety tests, one of those sobriety tests that ALMOST NEVER WORKS ON ME because I don't know if you've noticed duuude? but if I can take live band photos when I'm dribblingly shitfaced!? then a simple test of inner ear equilibrium ain't gonna tell you squat.. except *cough* forget I just told you all that.
3:05AM - And to the surprise of absolutely no one? yup THIS is where I went next.. which I also won't name simply because I've run out of punchlines. Although I should point out that both this and the other bleedingly obvious locations I go to aren't actual "choices" I make in a night. Picking a live show is a choice, this is merely me following a Pavlovian response in search of more beer. And as for why I keep documenting it then? pfft.. why the hell not duuude!? it's freaking hilarious!
3:27AM - Which speaking loosely of such brings me to the beergarden: audience to one of the many whimsical freaks I apparently "know" from here, only I never seem to remember them in passing, only for them to later prompt me on some entirely ridiculous (and all too random) circumstance in which we otherwise "met" (quite like that one ginger nitwit who I only know as "toothbrush in the toilet guy" thanks to a blitheringly incident in which we both spotted one floating in the urinal last year.. go figure?). And no obviously I don't know the name of THIS ONE either, only that he is in a band called Tea and according to the sign he's holding up? apparently they've got a gig coming up this Saturday at The Ed Castle in support of The Salvadors. Awesome huh!? And before you ask? yes I did totally research that shit, and not only is it near impossible to find the band "Tea" in a google search (or by cross referencing any of the bands they're playing with) but the accompanying facebook event simply promotes them as "an unknown quantity" with no corresponding link. So whad'ya reckon? am I totally gonna hit up that shit next week or WHAT!?
3:43AM - Stumbling back inside again, with a sudden need to order up another long neck bottle at the bar to drink myself blind (besides the fact I already had one in my hand) I couldn't help but notice THIS crazy cat in passing all but "dominating" the dancefloor. Again I've got no clue who he is, where he came from, or how I ever managed to run a binge drinking lifestyle blog thinly disguised as a "live music blog" without him pulling mad shapes like that.. but seriously maaan how ridiculously awesome is he? does that totally make your retinas explode or what!? WOOOO!!
I mean seriously is he Tim Rogers' illegitimate brother? second cousin to Jarvis Cocker once removed? did I stumble into a fucked up music video for Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds all a sudden? is that an actual jacket festooned entirely in paper currency design? and how in the hell am I taking all these ridiculous photos here without him being any the wiser to it!? THE MIND BOGGLES!
4:02AM - Obviously he wasn't the only one cutting sick (as apparently it was bit of a running theme tonight) as special mention also goes to those two uber slinky professional dancer girls (or at least I'm assuming from the moves they were pulling) writhing a proverbial "double helix" on the dancefloor to the gobsmacked wonder and amazement of all us present; I mean it was almost embarassing how mindblowingly hot it was (seriously duuude it totally made my night I swear!) But of course it'd be entirely too creepy of me to take a photo of it (pfft.. why spoil the moment I say!?). So instead here's Henri Dubois, Supermild's numero uno "internet viral sensation" (and if you don't believe me check out the hilarious "OMG OMG OMG!!" youtube he stars in like a flaming gay head explosion.. it'll totally make your day!) caught like a deer in the headlights as he attempts to steal three or more stray long neck beer bottles from everyone else around him. Aaaah I know, you're so glad you tuned into Spoz's Rant for important shit like this aren't you!?
Yup, in every episode of this blog I make a choice, and I usually like to think it's the right choice; with the rarest of rare "exceptions" of course (lest we forget last year when I went to Rocket Bar for a Jupiter Lead launch party, only to prove emphatically that "two wrongs" so totally DON'T make a "right"). Just as I'm well aware of how much harder it is to make these choices now when there's so much more of them competing for my attention (yes even in Adelaide, even in the dead of winter, duuude it's so totally fucked up!) as every day, every week, every month of the year now, more and more of them come bursting forth from my inbox all awaiting a thousand and one blissfully ambiguous "maybe attendings". And to think all of this insanity merely stems from me choosing to drink myself into oblivion for a fucked up blog each week instead of embracing the mind numbing humdrum and certainty of a 9-5 existence!? Yup as retarded as it may sound (and believe me I know, I mean c'mon I DON'T EVEN GET PAID FOR THIS SHIT!) and as much as it may come back to haunt me one day, when all other options are considered? I swear it's the only choice for me!