The Adelaide scene: to many of you it may 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 dysfunctional splendour, as we bring you the highly satirical, laughingly fictional and intellectually imbecile tales from our rock & roll wasteland...
CONTROL + RAUCOUSTRA NOVA CINEMA + LIVE @ FAD CAFE / Saturday December 8th 2007
Let's face it, if history has ever taught us one thing: it's that only an idiot (and quite possible an enraged midget with a god complex) ever attempts to fight a war on two fronts and ever hopes to win. No matter the might of the army or the arsenal, chances are four to five months into your genius campaign, you'll be knee deep in jerky, freezing your jingle bells off, stuck in the middle of a Russian winter surrounded by snipers and not know how the fuck you got there. Such is the dilemma faced this night: shellshocked, face down in the dirt gargling leaves, whilst a sweet lilting flute sound whistled out've my smoking skull cavity? Constantly fighting between a rock and a hard place and forever losing sleep? Sweet jebus what the FUCK was I thinking!?
I really had no intention of leaving the house tonight. I had no wish to throw my carcass into the fray and laugh as the bullets whizzed by my ears. What once drove me on with a madenning glee time and time again now had me curled up in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth, hands to ears, screaming at imaginery shadows.. and yet through all this, just as I was vowing to fuck it all, just as I'd given up all hope, I discovered something whilst absently thumbing through my phone's movie guide. Something I could relate to in my time of doubt. Something I was always meaning to see. An arty-farty little black & white film screening at Nova Cinema..
CONTROL Yup, for all you obssessed fans of everything post-punk, late 70's, Ian Curtis and Joy Division; chances are you've already seen this movie by acclaimed rock photographer Anton Corbijn and dissected it to the subatomic level. For everyone else who hasn't, fuckit, here's the trailer..
In short, the film's utterly brilliant: subtle, sparse, inspired, understated, surprisingly funny, beautifully shot in black & white, spot-on accurate to the life of a struggling musician (and the ghetto surrounds that feed it) and nothing short of a freaking revelation. If you've lived even a fraction of your life on the frontlines of the music scene (or just wish you did) then I couldn't recommend this movie more. Still, considering the story of this movie revolves around the infamous Ian Curtis who; stuck between rock and a hard place, considers his only choice is to hang himself *cough* perhaps this wasn't the BEST film to relate to in my fragile mindstate. Still, it did give me plenty of timely thoughts to muse over. So, reaching for my ipod I threw on Joy Division's first album "Unknown Pleasures", threw on my headphones to block out the petty dramas of the world, and slipped silently into the inky void to think things through..
Aaaaah, there's something altogether unsettling and ultimately befitting in wandering empty streets at night whilst accompanied by the post apocalyptic sounds of late 70's Manchester..
These hollow drums. That voice of hope and despair. Those creeping guitars thick with a sense of silent dread. My broken thoughts, soundtrack and surrounds are one in singular energy..
(and yes, I do fully realise just how fucking insane it is to be walking around, alone on a city street at night with my head lost in world of headphones, documenting it all on my camera)
Still, as such random travels take me, I eventually find myself at the other side of town at the Grace Emily, my head floating with sweet silence. It is here that I catch the last 20 seconds of The City Riots demolishing the stage. Damn, guess I really should've taken a photo, aye? :)
Beer soon finds me (as it always does). I take a few moments to absorb and then I leave, feeling altogether philosophical, meditative and contemplative with the universe at large..
many random meetings with characters both strange and familiar later and I find myself wandering over to FAD cafe on Waymouth St. It's beyond the point of midnight now. All thoughts are crystallising as one. Newfound purpose drives me..
a random assortment of musicians assemble on stage..
RAUCOUSTRA I could easily say who they were. I could go on to elaborate upon the lanky spaced out jazz grooves they conjured up between broken drumloops, saxaphone, bass guitar and synth but sometimes it's just enough to be lost in a sound and let it take you to where you need to go..
and it's in this simple moment of clarity at 2AM, that I find the decision I need to make..
