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...
THE HONEY PIES + THE SWEET DECLINE + THE BOX ROCKETS LIVE @ THE GRACE EMILY / Friday July 2nd 2010
Seriously duuude.. I don't know how the fuck I do this sometimes. By all definitions I'm completely fucking insane, I've known this all along and I doubt doubt many of you have too; shit why else would you be here? but if you're new to this "game" allow for me a quick summary. Hi I'm Spoz (obviously not my real name) and every week for the past five years I've done the same fucking thing for this blog: I go out, go see bands, get drunk and then I go home to "write about it". I laughingly like to think it's a blog on the "Adelaide music scene": first person perspective; nothing but live, lewd and loudly satirical. Some may beg to differ and say its nothing but an insult to their intelligence.. but don't worry I'm totally in on that joke too: I have no qualification to do this, I don't fit in with the "industry standard", my prose is nothing but "purple" and yet despite all of this all you mad fools still frequent my site each week? HA HA HA I KNOW!! I can't stop laughing either, IT'S A FUCKING JOKE PEOPLE!! Problem is of course I've clearly created a monster here in writing it. Every week I dig my own grave, bury myself alive and attempt to claw my way out again. And the only way I DON'T fucking kill myself in the process is by juggling all the constants and variables. The "constants" are obviously all the live gigs that I plot out weeks in advance, my camera, my insane production schedule and just how much cruel and unusual punishment I can inflict upon my body before I fucking explode. While the "variables" are everything unpredictable I can write about in between: all the drunken chaos, carnage, colour and character that continually makes this scene hilariously awesome to be a part of. However, the longer I DO this shit the more these variables become constants, the less I can write about (especially in winter when it's nothing but a soul sucking grind) and then I've got absolutely nothing. In other words this is where I'm at tonight. I'm completely fucked.. FUCKED for ideas on what to write and I have one of two ways out: either I do my best to avoid all the live bands and write a blog about THAT (except I already did that back in March so now I'm proper fucked) or I take the more drastic measure? do the whole night sober (yes SOBER!), buy everyone else drinks and THEN see what happens? HA HA HA no really? am I THAT desperate for ideas!? YOU BETCHA!! And so I post a facebook/twitter update stating just that and then I hit the Grace Emily. I mean shit duuude what's the worst that could possibly happen!?
THE BOX ROCKETS (***1/2) myspace :: Which on a completely unrelated note brings us to our opening act (but don't worry we'll get back to my "suicide mission a little later). This is the first time I've ever seen or heard of them, they're from Melbourne, I've arrived three songs late into their set (ooops!) and it appears they've also brought in their own dedicated "rent a crowd" to support them; including an exceptionally vocal female fan of theirs who's name completely escapes me despite the fact I was introduced to her later on in the night (yeaaah sorry about that, I'd usually say I was drunk at the time but clearly I have no excuse this time.. shit!). She's the one up front continually cracking jokes, heckling for songs requests and otherwise taking a hundred photos from all manner of fartyarse angles; and for a brief "horrifying" moment (awww c'mon it was kinda cute!) I realise THIS must be what I look like to an outside observer. Only she's not nearly as hilariously drunk, deranged or dribblingly fuckugly as I am (I mean shit let's face it I look like Bill Bailey on a bad day even at the BEST of times.. and better yet here I am tonight and I look like I haven't shaved or hardly slept all week!? SERIOUSLY WHY THE FUCK DID I EVEN LEAVE THE HOUSE!?) oh yeaaah and the whole she's lacking a "Y chromosome" facial hair thing and wait.. what the fuck am I talking about again!? (the first dumb thing that pops up in my mind apparently?) oh yeah, The Box Rockets! By first impressions I admit I didn't know quite what to make of them. I'm not saying this was necessarily a bad thing, it's just that initially I couldn't help but think they were one of those "middle of the road" indie acts (ie: totally vying for commercial airplay) that I've heard waaay too much of in the Adelaide scene in the past few years (and I think we all know who I'm referring to too) that sound vaguely like either The Kooks, The Killers, Coldplay or The Arctic Monkeys (take your pick) and then I'm hard pressed to come up with anything else more specific. Hmmm. And yet the more I hear of The Box Rockets tonight the more I realise just how waaaay off I am in that assessment. And the first thing that sways my opinion here, after say fifteen minutes or so (ie: it does take a while for it to sink in) is in how much more articulate and mature their songwriting is. I mean sure it might be equal measures "middle of the road" and "radio friendly" but they're definitely more genuine in how they deliver it. They're more even measured in their feel, more richly melancholy in weight, more "well travelled" and once you latch onto THAT then you start to appreciate where they might be coming from. As such think of them as being more authentically 80's UK indie in influence. Think XTC (especially their song "Dear God"), think Tears For Fears, think maybe a little of U2's first album before it all went to their heads, maybe The Cure at a stretch but most notably The Smiths. Oh they're definitely aping The Smiths. You notice it most in Luke Sabbadini's vocals: equal measures Morrissey, Robert Smith, Bono and Andy Patridge from XTC (perhaps by way of Win Butler from The Arcade Fire in feverish delivery) making for a strong presence up front. You also notice it in the band around him providing the surging momentum from slow to upbeat to howlingly emotional in getting the energy across (and even more so in the mad shapes that both Andrew Campbell on guitar and Stuart West on bass in effort to sell it). They're a polished act, not a stray note among them (short of some technical issues with a malfunctioning bass lead). Every song works its charms by subtle degrees. They gradually build a steady dancefloor of five to six fangirls giddily flailing up front and I dare say the more you hear it the more it starts to really grow on you. Yup that's The Box Rockets. They might sound a little too much like the musical equivalent of a Molly Ringwald film with the volume turned up, but when it's THIS good duuude? it's damn hard to argue with it.
THE SWEET DECLINE (****) myspace :: As much as I can gather our second act have spent the past four months quietly plotting and scheming (and maybe not so quietly dropping me bleedingly obvious hints) in the hopes that they'd finally make an appearance on this blog.. and it's anyone's guess why. I mean shit haven't I been enough of a freaking arsehole to you people? haven't I caused enough damage by now!? Ask anyone maaan! I'm practically the "Perez Hilton" of the Adelaide music scene! no worse than that I'm fucking Jar Jar Binks with a blogspot! AND NOBODY WANTS THAT!! FUUUCK!! And yet in spite of all this here's The Sweet Decline unwittingly "inviting" all hell and high hilarity upon themselves tonight!? Yup and it all started when their drummer Lee Kennedy foolishly added me on facebook back in February too (or perhaps it was early March?). They had an EP launch party at The Ed Castle, they were hoping to invite me along so I could cover it for this blog and maybe even doorlisted me for my efforts too (awww how nice!). Of course I completely forgot about it only to turn up anyways "completely by accident" on my night off. I caught their opening act Ride Into The Sun (maybe even caught some of it on video), caught their second support Hawks Of Alba (and I totally loved every damn minute of it too!), and then just before The Sweet Decline arrived on stage for their moment of triumph in front of hundreds and hundreds of adoring screaming fans? I totally walked out on them and got hilariously drunk at bar!? See I told you! I'M A TOTAL FUCKING ARSEHOLE!! And ever since then? yup our paths have never quite converged.. or at least until now. Sad I know! And as much as I always assumed they were an emo band.. at least by their name (which may begin to explain a few things) and as much as I continue to be haunted by the nightmare that was Jupiter Lead at THEIR launch party (which may begin to explain a few MORE things) I dare say this band makes for an awesome first impression. Or at least they did until they asked for all the stage lights to be dimmed at which point I almost threw my camera into a wall; but yeaaah I digress (wait did I mention I wasn't drinking tonight? OH YEAAAH THIS IS GONNA BE FUN!!). The Sweet Decline. In essense you could think of them as a "blues band" rendered blacker than black with a shitload of layered guitar pedals. As such they instantly remind me of Black Rebel Motorcycle Club; although they'd likely tell you it's The Black Keys, either way imagine if Liam Gallagher sung the vocals. With their lead singer Tom Kennedy and his delivery it's damn near unmistakable: that rich sinus sustain, like a bugle horn dipped in honey, then dipped in scotch whiskey then dusted with a few too many speed balls of cocaine.. only not literally of course, but it's that distinctive "drifting quality" all the same. And as much as it SOUNDS like an insult (I mean c'mon.. fucking Oasis!?) it actually matches the music quite nicely. But obviously this barely scratches the surface with this band. In each subsequent song they expand upon their sound, especialy with Tom and Gus Johnston's layering guitars riffs, and Shane Brown and Lee's sustained rhythm attack on bass and drums, to hint at all manner of other blacker than black influences. I'm picking up everything from My Bloody Valentine, The Cure, Kasabian and perhaps even a little bit of Interpol in the mix. There's a rich density to it, aided no doubt by all the reverb they pile on everything, but there's also a rich grittiness to it too. It's never too polished, but more dusty, diesel fueled, primal like a wild animal let loose in a wind tunnel and filmed in slow motion. They perform a cover of MGMT's "Kids" rendered so raw as fuck you'd swear it was actually song by The Pixies instead (which easily gets my thumbs up), everything's wall to wall ear candy guitars from beginning to end; I mean whodathunkit? they're actually getting a "good review" from me here!? I know.. I kinda feel cheated by that too *cough* I mean "totally go see them they're freaking awesome!". The Sweet Decline. Yup I might've "accidently" skipped out on their shit for the past four months now, but after hearing THIS tonight? these poor fools won't be able to get rid of me!
THE HONEY PIES (**1/2) myspace :: And speaking of me writing "glowing" gig reviews (and occassionally misguided references to washed up mid 90's britpop bands.. "Liam what now!?") for no other reason than they're likely bribing me behind the scenes for it (and if not? pfft.. WHY THE HELL NOT!?) here comes our headlining act and.. oh wow, they only got two and a half stars from me tonight? "HA HA HA WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED!?". Well, before we DO dive into what will surely be a hilarious tale on how best to "fuck it up royally" on stage on the one night Spoz decides to write a live review on your band instead of featuring you in yet another utterly pretentious arty farty "photo blog" (and would you believe that shit's happened all three times I've featured them in this blog this year!? HALF THEIR FUCKING LUCK!!) a small disclaimer might be in order. You see on any OTHER night of the week The Honey Pies are pure freaking gold, no really.. they're one of the BEST damn live bands in Adelaide! Bold claim I know, but you need only look to any other live review I've ever written about them, or better yet go see them for yourself and you too will start to wonder just HOW THE FUCK they haven't been signed to a record label yet. With an infectious guitar pop sound midway between The Beatles, The Libertines, Arctic Monkeys and The Vines; with an uncanny knack for crafting timeless classics rife in frenetic riffs, loose rhythms and wry whimsical lyrics that'll be sure to have you grinning ear to ear? yup they're just one of those "no brainers" for me: the minute you hear them, you don't even need to think it through, you just know you're onto something cool. They've already got a demo out (which you can totally download for free here) which is totally worth the price of admission if only for the acoustic number "Sold My Soul" (yeaaah you'll know it when you hear it). They're currently putting the finishing touches on their debut album.. yes ALBUM (they've even been working in the studio just THIS week on it) and as they hit the stage tonight they "humbly" declare that they're totally at the top of their game? I mean shit duuude how could they possibly go wrong!? AAAAHAHAhaHAhAHA duuude where DO we even begin!? Well granted for the first two and a half songs they actually CAN'T do any wrong: they've totally got it nailed, it's freaking awesome, they're playing everything faster, it's more fuckoff frenetic, it's totally blowing the roof off the joint it's THAT ridiculouly shit hot. But just when you think they're hitting their stride midway into song three? yup it all goes horribly and I mean HILARIOUSLY WRONG. Tom McCarthy-Jones' bass just cuts out completely, clunk, kaput. They can't figure out if it's a faulty lead or a busted amp head either way they're dead in the water until they can get it fixed. Then just as they get that in order lead singer Jon Marco breaks a string on his guitar. Granted it's nothing new, he does it ALL the time (case in point: back in June at The Ed Castle he broke two strings and had to swap his parts with guitarist Tony Marshall to finish their set) problem being of course? he almost never brings any spares! So again they're dead in the water until one of the guitarists from The Box Rockets can fetch his instrument as a replacement. And just when they've got all THAT sorted? they dive into the next few songs only for Tom's bass to cut out AGAIN!? HA HA HA oh yeaaah we're definitely onto a winner here! Both Tony and Tom storm off stage as the mixer figures out where the fault is. Jon attempts to improvise by doing a solo version of "Sold My Soul", then awkward silence follows. Then more awkward silence as everyone wonders what the fuck to do next. Then Jon pipes in with the funniest line of the night: "yeaaah this would usually be the moment where we'd say who we are so you'd come see us again.. so, hi we're The Battery Kids!". Then he asks the crowd if they should continue, the crowd gives him an emphatic "yes" and then they finally get that bass fixed and finish their set!? *PHEEEUW* I KNOW!! Clearly they'd lost all momentum, clearly it was a total disaster and yet for the simple fact they STILL managed to find the humour in it? still kept us grinning ear to ear as much as we were grimacing in pain. Yup that's The Honey Pies. Arguably entertaining for all the WRONG reasons tonight (and how!) but if we look to the bright side? with a show THIS horrendously bad the next one's guarenteed to be awesome riiight!? duuude I'd totally bet on that even if I had to buy all the spare strings and bass leads meself!
12:17AM - Of course we all know I won't REALLY be buying them ANY of that crap.. and not just because I'm a notorious cheapskate for this shit (actually it mostly is but that's besides the point!) but more because I like to follow a blogger's Prime Directive when it comes to the Adelaide scene. Yeaaah you know? just like the "Prime Directive" in Star Trek: The Next Generation? (no really "pretend" like you DON'T know what I'm talking about!) except in my case I do my utmost NOT to interfere in the creative output of an unsigned band except when I can later make fun of them in a blog (ie: by posting hilarious photos of them drunk) or if I have half a chance of nailing one of those ridiculously hot chicks who play the bass. But hey since I'm chosing to do this night sober and shout everyone else beers instead? (oh you SO thought I'd forgotten about that shit didn't you?) fuck it.. I figured I'd at least buy a round of drinks for every member of The Honey Pies who hadn't already fled the scene of the crime (or in other words I just bought a beer for Jon Marco as he was the only one left standing before their "ship" sank below the waves). And as for what any of this has got to do with THESE dribbling nitwits I found moments later in the beer garden? yeaaah maybe I just gave them the rest of my beers so they wouldn't think to fling their faeces at me.
12:54AM - Still as much as it was disturbing to watch these freaks "slide down the evolutionary scale" on me, to the point that they might actually prove a clear and present danger to public sanitation (and I sure as shit wasn't helping matters by speeding them on their way), I was still more than happy to hang out with them for the next hour or so simply for all the "entertainment value" they provided me. For instance, just now, when I mentioned how bizarre these sculptures looked glued on the walls behind us.. not altogether sure if they were ACTUAL sculptures or merely the "end result of a pterodactyl": Paddy Montgomery, guitarist for The British Robots (although he may later deny that after he sees this) immediately volunteered to get "up close and personal" with one for this photo. Awesome huh? And as for whether he continued to get "up close and personal" to the point he might've "consumated" anything!? yeaaah I can neither confirm or deny those rumours: suffice to say I haven't looked at a tub of yoghurt "in quite the same way" since.
12:57AM - And three short minutes later (and yes that IS a punchline and yes I really AM being that clever) I found myself back inside again: quite possibly huddled foetal in a corner screaming, or quite possibly not (again I can neither confirm or deny what might have lead me to "delete" a few dozen images off my camera by repetitively smashing it concave with a blunt object) only to be distracted by all these empty cans of Coopers "Dr Tims" scattered before me instead. Hmmm..?
And it was in this moment that it suddenly hit me: I'd passed through the "looking glass" here. Maybe it was an hour ago, maybe I didn't acknowledge it in passing but there was definitely no doubt about it now. What was once familiar had now become extraterrestrial. I was a sober man stepping into a strange land. Not because I was broke, not to prove a point, not for "Dry July" but simply for the sheer fuck of it; and this night was only going to get all the weirder from here on in.
1:02AM - But before I stepped into the "blithering beyond", I needed to set me some ground rules. Firstly no matter how tempting it might be, I can't simply catch the first taxi out of here and call it an early night, I mean pfft.. where would the fun be in that? Secondly I can't simply deviate my journey into anywhere uncharacteristically "sedate" or "civilised" to minimise the carnage; it's all in or nothing! Thirdly if I'm going to be buying everyone ELSE drinks I'm not going to announce it like an idiot.. if they've seen the facebook/twitter update? they can just come to me. And last (but definitely not least) here, I need to set a drinks limit (ie: no bigger than what I'd usually drink myself in a night) or I'm completely screwed.. AND I CANNOT EMPHASISE THIS ENOUGH. Or in other words: I simply go to where I usually go? do what I usually do? only I'm getting everyone ELSE drunk? getting photographic evidence of it and making fun of it on this blog!? YEAAAS!! FUCK DAMN I'M A GENIUS!! Except wait.. don't I usually do this shit when I'm drunk anyways? Yeaaah I know, I know! did I mention I was completely out of ideas this week!? fuck it.. LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!
1:06AM - First stop: The Ed Castle. Usually I'd hit this hilarious shit dive at least once in a night if I'm ever drinking in the west end, and not necessarily because it's the "best thing happening", or in other words feel free to provide your own punchline from anything I might have written in the past six months (duuude it's a freaking comedy goldmine!) but simply because I'm guarenteed to know at least a few familiar fuckwits here with which I can continue "drinking". Unfortunately upon arriving there it immediately becomes apparent that they're having one of their "off nights" where they pretend to be "Sugar 2.0" (aaaah you gotta love those new owners don't you? they just KEEP ON TRYING!!) it's banging nothing but retarded club music, and short of maybe Eleanor at the bar giving me the stinkeye? yeaaah it's not like I'm gonna recognise anyone in here. Hmmm.. it's obviously still waaay too early for Supermild, so fuck it I figure I'd hit up The Exeter next instead.
1:18AM - Crossing King William it suddenly occurs to me Transmission is on tonight, except only a fool (drunk or otherwise) would even consider going THIS early when there's a fuck off lineup outside and they're still charging $5 entry (or at least I'm pretty sure they DO charge $5 I've just never gone that early) and yeaaah fuck it.. I'll probably dodge a bullet if I just keep walking huh?
1:36AM - Upon arriving at The Exeter I soon realise I've dodged another bullet: as short of Paul "Nazz" Nassari, Rachael Cearns formerly from Winter's Lament whatever-the-fuck and a sprinkling of blitheringly vague friend of a friend associates (none of whom are even aware I'm doing this whole "buying people drinks" thing anyways.. SCORE!!) there's next to no one I recognise in here either. And after talking to Nazz? yeaaah I pretty much leave soon after. Wow.. "exciting" huh?
In fact the only reason why I'm mentioning anything here at The Exeter at all, is simply so I could post all THESE photos I got whilst attempting a "location shoot" outside, only for Rylan Dowdell (guitarist for Thunderclaw and bartender at The Exeter) to jump out in the middle of it.. hiiilarious!
2:28AM - Growing increasingly bored by this point, and a little too aware just how much "being drunk" makes all this shit infinitely more exciting (duuude tell me about it!) I hit up The Crown & Anchor: if only for the morbid curiousity of it (and maybe to get something from the snack machine). I mean fuck there's gotta be something going on SOMEWHERE in the east end riiight!?
2:31AM - Upon walking in I discover Count Dracula, aka: DJ Craig who runs that ever popular "Gosh" night at Jive, has just started up another franchise here with "Revolution", or maybe it's called "Resurrection"? either way it's the first Friday of every month and blah di blah whatever-the-fuck (pfft.. I mean shit duuude it's another DJ night, do you really need details!?). And yes I know it may look a little thin in attendance tonight compared to his other efforts, but trust me just getting ANYONE onto this dancefloor is nothing short of a miracle! No really it's like both Kraig Black and DJ Ian joined forces to put a gypsy curse on this joint when they left back in 2008 (although in saying that apparently Hot! Damn! on Saturdays is starting to pull peeps too? wow.. who knew!?).
2:33AM - Of course I knew next to no one here either.. *yawn*. And so figuring I'd somehow dodged a bullet AGAIN and that maybe no one in the entire east end had even read that facebook/twitter update or even left the house tonight (HA!! what are the odds?) I made plans to head for the exit, only to bump into Dave instead. Of course he totally knew, he immediately caught me out on it.. and so to hell with it: I shouted him a beer, took this "celebratory photo" and got the fuck out of there. Still in saying that.. I'm actually getting a bit of a kick out've this now. Hmmm I wonder? what IS the dumbest place I can go next to really cause me some damage!?
2:43AM - And so, not knowing quite what I gotten myself into.. Transmission heeere we come!
2:45AM - Upon walking in.. possibly muttering something along the lines of "abandon all hope ye of sobriety who enter here", I'm promptly ambushed by Olivia all giddy and exciteable to see me: clearly for reasons COMPLETELY UNRELATED to anything she might have read online, or the vodka lemon lime & soda I promptly felt obliged to shout her at the bar (pfft of course, I'm totally awesome duuude!) and to celebrate this moment we took this photo. Which I should point out she took on HER camera, as the one I captured on mine wasn't nearly badass enough. And let's face it Olivia does look pretty freaking badass here. And by "badass" I totally mean drunk but totally badass too *cough* (I mean c'mon she's totally aiming it in the right direction and everything!).
2:49AM - Yup figuring anywhere but the bar would be the safest place for me to be right now I then hit the dancefloor. Only to immediately regret I ever made that decision when I saw just what was going on here (no really.. is it always THIS FUCKED UP!?) only to hide by the DJ decks instead.
It's here that I bump into Ross Osmon doing his "DJ thing".. or more accurately what I could've sworn was a laughing demon of indeterminate origin doing an impersonation of "Ross Osmon": at which point I likely ran screaming from the room, possibly wielding a crucifix while screaming at him in Latin. And it was only later, sifting through countless photos I'd taken of him over the years that I realised nooo, I was actually right the first time. Still.. you gotta love the moustache right?
2:53AM - Clearly I was waaay too sober for Transmission, and by "waaay too sober" I clearly mean I'd need at least a bucket, a funnel and a jager machine (or five) FAST if ever I was going to catch up with it. Of course I wasn't going to do any of that tonight, as I DID have an ongoing "science experiment" to conduct and I'd be damned if I didn't see if through to the very end. So instead of putting myself through all that hell again by facing everything head on.. "NO!! NOT THE DANCEFLOOR AGAIN!! WAAAAUAUAUGGHHH!!".. I figured I'd do the sensible thing short of getting the next taxi the fuck out of here (again not an option) find a nice quiet spot to hide, sort through and delete all the dud shots I got earlier at The Grace Emily in silence.. and simply wait for them to come to me. And sure enough, guess what arrived just a few short moments later? SCORE!!
And would you believe they actually requested these shots? I know sometimes it's just TOO easy!
2:58AM - Yup the minute I came up with this idea I knew I was onto a winner, maaan it was hilarious! Admittedly it wasn't my idea at all and I was legitimately trying to find some quiet time to sift through hundreds of photos here (no really, I don't know if you've noticed? but I've been running a wee bit over "deadline" of late.. FUUUCKING HELL!!) but as much as it was annoying being interrupted every fucking minute or so by yet another laughable fuckwit, blundering over and requesting a photo from me.. "what!? can't you see I'm trying to hide here in plain sight!? SHEEESH!!".. considering all the shots I was getting!? oh I knew I was SO gonna get them good in revenge! Which clearly doesn't apply to Luke Davey here: as somehow he actually manages to look like the "sober one" in this shot, while I look like his retarded ventriloquist puppet. Hmmm.
2:59AM - Moments later Ben Brew makes a return appearance, because clearly he didn't look nearly drunk enough the first time round (or any other time I ever capture him on camera) as he proceeds to amuse me with his amazing "Puppetry Of The Pint Glass". And for bonus points: check out how his eyebrow goes all weirdly droopy there on the right? seriously.. how freaky is THAT!?
And you know what makes this even funnier? is it never dawns on these freaks, even for a second that I'm offering them free drinks tonight. I mean if they never ask.. I never tell riiight? GENIUS!!
3:10AM - Ooops clearly I spoke too soon.. as no sooner do I think that, that then I'm then ambushed by these three frisky freeloaders (and yes I'm aware of the irony in calling them that considering they're some of the same "freeloaders" who keep sneaking me in for free at The Ed Castle each week) and oh look I'm off to the bar again to buy them a round of shots. Awesome!
3:11AM - And speaking of "shots" we might later come to regret (who me!? never!) upon downing hers Lucinda figured this would be an opportune moment to swipe my camera and take some photos for herself. Or at least once she figured out how all the little buttons worked, or what direction it was meant to be facing, or yeaaah I believe THESE pretty much speak for themselves.
And if you think this is bad? you should've seen the shots I left out.. WOOOO!!
3:34AM - Moments later after seeing just what I had unleashed upon the world: namely five Coopers Pale Ales, one vodka lemon lime & soda and three "Fresh Pussies" (not to mention all the photographic evidence too.. tee hee!), I called an end to the "bar tab" by posting it on twitter, found my seat from before and continued to sort through my photos in silence (safe in the knowledge that no one will ever claim they read it.. baaastards!). And then moments later completely unrelated to all that I'm approached by a girl. I'd never met her before, or at least I'm pretty sure of it. She had shoulder length orangey red curly hair, thick rim glasses, otherwise not all that distinguishable but what I remember most was what she said: "you're a cunt Spoz, you're a total jerk, you're an arsehole.. it's like I don't even KNOW YOU ANYMORE!!". And before I had a chance to respond to that!? she storms off.. weeeird! Oh and as for what any of this shit has got to do with Kyle here? duuude I wish I knew. Actually on second thoughts I really don't.. YEEEESH!!
3:36AM - Yup clearly shit was getting waaay out of hand here. Perfectly normal for any given night of Transmission maybe (in fact it's one of the many good reasons to come here when you're completely trashed, duuude it's freaking hilarious!), but for someone of my sobering condition? yeaaah it was anything but and quickly surpassing the limits to which a UV light, a hose, a sponge, an incinerator and an exorcist could clean up afterwards. So after one last botched attempt at a group shot here (and trust me you'll thank me later for all the other shots I didn't publish tonight) I fought my way through all the blinking diodes flailing around me (some going for that one last grope on the dancefloor, some of them on all fours) found the exit and got the fuck out of there.
3:48AM - Emerging at last onto King William Street, and not without a small measure of relief, it was amazing how everything looked so different to me now. I mean suuure it was pretty much the SAME shit.. but somehow it was all different too. Like the subtle difference between VHS and DVD, analog or plasma, cassette tape and vinyl, 2D and 3D, or with me being disturbingly sober in a world I'm most familiar with drunk? yeaaah like I was STILL the same "drunk" but with fuck off superpowers of perception.. duuude it was freaky! I mean I was noticing all the little things around me: all the sirens wailing on their way to Hindley Street, all the litter and the loitering drunks, all the taxi cabs fleeing from them, it was like crystal maaan! And I couldn't help but notice all the supermarket trolleys too. I mean there's always that one migrating between Currie Street and Hindley between Ed Castle and Supermild, but tonight I was spotting more and more of them like they were multiplying all a sudden, like seriously WHAT THE FUCK WAS UP WITH THAT SHIT!?
3:56AM - Still as much as I'd love to show you all the OTHER supermarket trolleys I found from King William, Currie to Hindley Street tonight.. because yes I took photos of them all (like a crazy person I did!) and as much as most of them could easily be explained away as either coming from Woolworths in Rundle Mall or Central Markets on Grote Street? yeaaah I had other shit to attend to and that was Supermild. No episode of Spoz's Rant would ever be complete without it, for reasons I've never quite fathomed drunk (and it's not making any more sense to me now sober) but if we're going to see this mad fucked up journey through to the very end? yup it's got to end here!
4:02AM - And the first thing I did when I got here, was to open up my "bar tab" one last time. For one last person who arguably deserved this shit more than anyone on a night like this (short of anyone working behind the bar at Transmission of course) and that was ME. I mean yeaaah you could argue that I'm breaking the "rules" somehow, that I'm cheating you all, that this shit's totally gone "bust" now. Except let's face it, one beer doesn't make you drunk (it's the fifty you have afterwards that DO), I'm not doing this because I'm broke, or to prove a point, or because it's "Dry July" AND THEY'RE MY RULES DAMNIT!! (and yes, before you ask.. it tasted SO freaking good too!).
4:14AM - Newly refreshed after that, and to be honest I mostly needed it because my throat was parched from NOT DRINKING ANYTHING ALL NIGHT (waiiit.. not even a soda or a glass of water? what the fuck was I thinking!?) I step out into the beer garden to soak up the ripe insanity that is Supermild past four in the morning. And by "insanity" I actually mean all the drunks hooting and shrieking like baboons around me (albeit fashionably dressed "baboons"), and not so much the massive spray painted sign in front of me that spells out the words "SOGGY BISCUIT". The same sign mind you, that none of these drunks had even noticed before.. until I pointed it out to them.
4:18AM - But of course this didn't concern them, not in the slightest! not even when I mentioned it wasn't here LAST WEEK (or at least I didn't think it was? I mean I was pretty drunk at the time!?) and then went on to speculate that maybe it was written by little green men in the vicinity of the Pleiades star cluster as a marking beacon for their invasion fleet and they'll be here any minute now and we're totally screwed.. SCREWED I TELLS YA!! Because as we all know that shit only works on stoners. And as for these drunks? (short of Gloria on the right who totally works in hospitality and therefore has "alcoholic immunity") yup all they ever wanted was their photo taken *sigh*.
4:43AM - But hey I was more than happy to oblige, because isn't that what this blog is all about? me taking photos of drunk people!? OF COURSE IT IS!! I mean pfft.. all these silly bands that you see each week? that I photograph each week? that I review each week? that most of you likely scroll past each week in a giddy blur looking for all these hilarious drunks to tag on facebook? THEY'RE TOTALLY INCONSEQUENTIAL!! And I'm not even kidding you, and I'm not even judging you! I'm right here laughing with you (and occassionally at you) celebrating this mad "practical joke" that I pull each week: presenting a "binge drinking" lifestyle blog cunningly disguised as a blog on the Adelaide music scene. HA HA HA see I'm totally smiling here! I'm totally laughing it up! I'm totally not losing my shit at all! I'm totally having me the best damn night of my life.. AND TO THINK I SPENT ALL OF IT FUCKING SOBER!? GUH DAMNIT!! WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING!?
Yup sometimes I don't know how I do this. All I ever do is go out, go see bands, get drunk and then I go home to "write about it" and in times like these I then start to wonder "WHY!?". I mean do I go out to simply get drunk? or do I get drunk simply because I'm already out and it'd be completely crap without it!? maaaybe. I mean as much "fun" as I arguably had without all the drinking tonight? it was only because of drunks like YOU keeping me "wildly entertained" from beginning to end that I didn't die from boredom here, and if we didn't have that? sheeeiit we'd have nothing left but penguins stifling yawns and sipping from small cups of tea. FUUUCK!! Just as I know it also wouldn't be the same without all the live bands to support it each week, or hanging out with people involved in live bands as they make the best kinds of people to get drunk with; which let's face it is the ONLY reason why I'm still writing this fucked up blog in the first place. Awesome huh? I know! I totally don't understand how my head doesn't explode from it either!
