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...
ALL NIGHT GIRLS + THE KILLGIRLS + MAMMOTH LOGIC "BOOTLEG" @ JIVE / Friday December 3rd 2010
Question.. how many of you have experienced deja vu: that weirdly "familiar" yet foreign feeling you've read something before, like perhaps just last week "before" when I originally came up with this joke and let's face it, it probably IS the lamest of lame jokes (in the history of lame jokes I've cracked on this blog and don't we all just know it) to reference it again.. and hey is that Jive again? "JIVE!? HOLY FUCKING WOWEEEE AND SHIT!! ALL MY DREAMS HAVE FINALLY COME TRUE!!". But this isn't a blog about me being at Jive for the fourth week in a row (or whether I'm sick to death of it). In fact I really couldn't give a flying fuck about ANY of that: this isn't The Ed Castle, this ISN'T me living out my very own version of "Groundhog Day" till my fucking head explodes.. seriously! For all the crass pisstakes I've cracked at the expense of this place to the point I sometimes wonder out loud why both security and barstaff haven't banned me for life for doing so (because yes it IS run by "Soup Nazis") it IS one of the best live venues in Adelaide for both stage lighting and sound, and let's not forget the esteemed calibre of live acts: despite it frequently playing little more than a fortune cookie "footnote" to Gosh on a Saturday night (ie: cue much eyes rolling over the harsh realities of the "music industry" and what REALLY pays the bills around here). No really! it's always been a rare pleasure to cover a show here: never mistake my raging snark, cynicism and sarcasm for anything but that. But to be perfectly honest very little of THAT (or my middling task at hand in providing retarded "commentary" for it.. pfft!) is on my mind at all. Nope tomorrow evening two of my closest friends are getting married, they were foolish enough to invite me to their wedding, so all I need to do TONIGHT is to document all the insanity that'll surely befall me as the author of this blog in such a way that I DON'T totally embarass myself in front of them tomorrow: no mean feat mind you, but I believe I might just be upto to the task. I mean suuure it may take nothing less than a near impossible feat in juggling all the idiotic extremes, exceptional self discipline and mad organisational skills bordering on OCD (and the teeny tiny matter of avoiding the hangover, yiiikes!) but since WHEN is that news!? Nope the stakes might be that much higher, but tonight just like every other night I'm gonna bury myself upto my neck in it and then I'm gonna dig my way out again the only way I know how: and that's.. oh crap? how DO I do all that shit again!? HELP!!
Yup as much as I was hoping this Friday night would go easy on me somehow because of all that (or at the very least I'd opt for the "easy way out") the minute I heard about what was happening at Jive tonight I knew there was no other way around it other than me blogging the living shit out of it. Yup welcome to "Bootleg". And if the name's at all familiar to you but you can't quite place how? it may be on two counts. Firstly for throwing all manner of whizzbang parties in the Melbourne music scene since 2005 (showcasing the emerging talents of everyone from: The Temper Trap, Midnight Juggernauts, Wolf & Cub, Die! Die! Die!, Little Red, Red Riders, Sparkadia, British India and Children Collide.. to name but a few). But secondly because they'd already attempted this shit in Adelaide once before in 2008 at Producers Bar; only with somewhat "limited success". But now they're back with a fiery vengeance, teaming up with Jim Beam for all the sponsorship cheese, expanding into everywhere from Sydney, Brisbane and Perth (and yes even pissy 'ol Adelaide) and believe me they're sparing no ludicrous excess in winning us over either. Not just for the five kinds of fuck off excessive in mounted stage lighting and epilespy enducing strobers (above the already "kaleidoscopic" setup that Jive's been rocking since late June). Or for their Four Words DJ crew who are spinning everything in an A-Z of "Triple J bleedingly obvious" (and occassionally glaringly indie disco fashionista circa 2006-2010) from Ladyhawke, Operator Please to Wavves. Or even for all the fangirls that they're attracting seemingly fresh out of "90210" (the reboot more than the original) dancing up a storm in their LBDs. Nope clearly I'd be just the kinda idiot who'd totally focus on all the retarded lollies HERE instead: YES.. THEY HAVE FREE CANDY!! And nooo way! they've totally got "Fads" too!? HA HA HA THAT'S AWESOME!! No really, remember waaay back in the 80's when they used to be called "Fags" and they used to look like mini cigarettes, and *cough* wait, why am I even telling you this? you're probably born in 1992 right!? oh crap.. this night's SO gonna kill me!
RED APPARITION (***1/2) facebook :: Which speaking of fates worse than death brings us to our opening act; the first of FOUR tonight. The first of four bands I'll be reviewing "relatively sober" too, or at least very much planning to so as to avoid a skull fucking hangover for that all important wedding I'm attending tomorrow (oh and did I mention I'll be signing off as one of the "witnesses" too? OH I AIN'T TWEAKING OUT AT ALL!!) and if ever I need more reasons to needlessly "torture" myself here? (oh pfft.. I'll be fine! they'll just be happy to see me!) I'm also told that they're forecasting 36°C for it, which as we all know is just the kind of "hilarious" weather conditions (especially if you're wearing a suit and tie combo attempting to look "vaguely presentable") that only makes a hangover THAT much worse. So I've pretty much decided to do this shit DEAD sober, no more than that I'm doing it downright "hostile" loaded up on caffeine from one cup of joe and two cans of coke I slammed just prior to walking in just now (but mostly just to combat all the chronic sleep deprivation that seems to be very much part and parcel of my wacky dysfunctional lifestyle of late) and then it appears I discovered all the complimentary candy too: so feel free to throw in a near psychotic "sugar buzz" on top of that, and then the stage lights start strobing out on me!? WAHOOOO!! Or in other words that "fate worse than death" I was referring to earlier on totally wasn't MINE.. hell no! I'm laughing my arse off! I'm loving this! In fact I'd love nothing better than to tear everyone limb from limb and piss into their eyesockets I'M THAT FREAKING EXCITED TO BE HERE!! AAAAHAHAhAHAhaHaHAHAhA!! No it's more for the poor fools standing here in front of me.. that'd be Red Apparition, and THIS is their lucky day? (in every way they totally wouldn't be popping out "rabbit raisins" right now!?). Yup you might remember their lead singer Stuart Sanderson and their guitarist Jordan McKenzie from their former incarnation as prog metallers PostDeathPost.. yeaaah fuck I dunno? I think they supported Double Handed for their album launch back in September 2009!? (but if you don't? yeaaah trust me you didn't really miss all that much). In fact SO wildly "successful" were they as PostDeathPost, that no sooner did they play that gig last year: they ditched bass player Renée Ottens and drummer Jack Thompson for Mike Jenkins and Anthony Heywood-Smith, changed their name and changed their focus from embarassingly generic "prog metal" to somewhat less embarassing (and yet all the more harder to pinpoint) "post prog mixed with the blues".. or at least that's the quickest turn of phrase I could use to describe them. They've been on the scene now for almost a year (maybe more) they do a mean cover of Portishead's "Roads", and short of that one time back in February when I saw that aforementioned cover (and it kills!) THIS is the first time I've ever seen them live? Awesome huh!? YOU BETCHA!! And believe me it gets no LESS convoluted attempting to describe their shit tonight. On the one hand you could consider them a smokey blues band with both Stuart and Jordan working a paired back vibe equal parts Jeff Buckley meets Jonny Greenwood from Radiohead (with maybe a hint of Beth Gibbons from Portishead thrown in for good measure). On the other hand combined with Mike and Anthony on bass and drums? and with Stuart tweaking all manner of shitcrazy effects pedals in between!? they start to sound like all the above as covered by Birds Of Tokyo; or pretty much everything insane and overblown in a stadium rock band from Muse, Sparta, Kings Of Leon and Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here" album, running an epic as fuck production that punches you repeatedly in the guts. We're talking retarded levels of vocal reverb, guitar chords layered to excess and all manner of spastically dramatic drumpad triggered "breakbeats" and FX.. so much so you half wonder why they don't go the whole hog and throw in a "21 gun salute" of smoke machines and a shitload of oversized upright fans to blow all their hair about (in fact it might be as good excuse as any for them to grow it). But then they're dipping into the blues, they're covering Arcade Fire's "Month Of May" (as an intro to their third song "Vano"), working all these weirdarse "indie" influences, so they're a bit of headfuck in a hybrid to describe; or in other words? I probably need to see them again to make heads or tails of them without my whole head exploding, and yet maybe I kinda like it like that!? Yup that's Red Apparition. They're a "curious blend" to say the least, they're launching their debut EP "Action, Drama, Distractions & Armour" at Jade Monkey in two weeks time.. so fuck it, maybe YOU could make sense of it all!?
MAMMOTH LOGIC (***) facebook :: Which brings us to our second act, and before I proceed to rip the living piss out of them (for reasons that will soon become bleedingly apparent in editorial bias) let me just point out that they actually aren't all that "bad" at what they do. It's true! they're actually really good at it, maybe even exceptional at it, and if this is totally your bag (or perhaps a powdery white residue found at the bottom of said "bag" and you're frantically rubbing your teeth with it) I don't doubt they'll totally have you pulling shapes and tripping balls to it in next to no time; they'll pack dancefloors, they'll get glowsticks waving, gold chains swinging, gums grinding in giddy unison, they totally won the shit out of that Triple J Unearthed competition (deservedly so) and got to play Adelaide's Parklife Festival this year and yeaaah I think you can all see where I'm going with this huh? and ooooh it SO ain't gonna be pretty! (and yes in advance I apologise for pretty much everything I'm about to say because FUCK DAMN I'M GONNA ENJOY THIS!!). You see there are two things that are gonna make this review hideously biased against Mammoth Logic (love the name by the way). Firstly, all that caffeine and sugar (let alone all the spastic strobes that have been stabbing me in the eyesockets for the past hour or so) is starting to give me a wickedarse headache, and so I'm downing beers to compensate (and no they haven't quite taken effect yet) but yeaaah admittedly that's neither here or there; I'm really not that petty. It's the second point however: that this band epitomes everything you "love" about indie disco that's gonna fuck them up the most. Why? well in case it ain't already bleedingly obvious? I FUCKING HATE INDIE DISCO!! And yes I'm aware there are always exceptions, and yes I'll happily acknowledge them too: I like a bit of Lost Valentinos, I totally don't mind Cut Copy (or at least for their second album "In Ghost Colours") and I'd highly recommend both New Young Pony Club's "The Optimist" and Teenagersintokyo's "Sacrifice" as both of them are fucking tops.. I really MEAN that! Just as there was a rose-coloured time when all this "Frankie Says Relax" crap was still "shiny and new" and we weren't embarassed to admit we loved the shit out of Midnight Juggernauts, The Presets, Bloc Party or the Klaxons. But NOW is not that time, and this SO isn't the band to convince me otherwise.. OOOOH FUCK NO!! Nope to put it bluntly Mammoth Logic are three years too late to this party! THEY'RE THREE YEARS TOO LATE!! I mean we've seen it all before haven't we? Cut Copy, The Presets, Midnight Juggernauts, Grafton Primary, Bag Raiders blah-di-blah-blah ripping off New Order ripping off Georgio Moroder "hey I'm so freaking fashionista circa 2006-2007 I do nothing but snort cocaine, bang Italo Disco with my porn moustache 24/7 whilst jerking off at Rocket Bar" referencing whatever-the-fuck!? yup they're all the above read out from beginning to end like a fucking phonebook, like a paint-by-numbers, carbon copy, 100% faithful facsimile. And I feel like an arsehole in saying this, because they really do an awesome job of it BUT THEY'RE THREE YEARS TOO FUCKING LATE!! They bring nothing new in revitalising OR reinterpretting the genre.. AT ALL! They're a fucking cartoon caricature in banging its fundamentalist drum in a retarding drumloop numbing me senseless! They're lead singer Dave Crowe aping everything from Midnight Juggernauts in their hysterically stilted vocal delivery and flailing hand gestures (to Grafton Primary in the punchingly self important robo synths), to Reid Jones on bass alternating to saxaphone just like they're freaking Cut Copy all a sudden, to their damn near un-google-able drummer banging out the metronome in a four four (as apparently they're only "officially" a two-piece?) I mean AM I THE ONLY ONE ANNOYED BY THIS SHIT!? No wait, that's not quite the right emotion I'm reaching for here: no they're actually quite inoffensive in it, almost reassuring in their comfortable sameness, I could almost picture myself bopping my head along in an unguarded moment. Just like all the "raver bogans" who've suddenly burst out of the woodwork tonight are inextricably drawn to it: all spikey hair and gold chains glinting, crouching, punching pectoral circles dancing to it. They don't so much as annoy me, as they morbidly depress me with cold hard reality: indie disco ain't going anywhere, no matter how much I try to bury it all year long (isn't that right The Touch!?) this band is PROOF of its evergreen resilience. So really it don't matter what I think, I know I'm biased! Add a point, fuck it.. add two points if you want! I know you'll LOVE Mammoth Logic: they're a no brainer for high rotation Triple J airplay and raging dancefloor popularity, they're an absolute sure thing.. but it doesn't mean I have to agree with it!
THE KILLGIRLS (*****) facebook :: Our third band however I have all the time in the world for.. and yes I admit on the surface this may make me a "bit" of a hypocrite after everything obnoxious I've said about Mammoth Logic (although if it helps for any of them tuning in just now? maybe it was just a "bad night" for it) because yes The Killgirls DO possess some teeny tiny indie disco qualities to their sound, but like I said before there are ALWAYS grand exceptions to the rule (as they happen to possess a few bloodthirsty industrial influences too). For The Killgirls are not so much an "indie disco" outfit as they love to beat the screaming black and blue shit out of it, barely pausing for breath as the "red mist" settles to the ground, at which point they beat it black and blue some more until there's nothing left to show for it but a police chalk outline and a gaggle of witnesses all shit grinning in complicit silence. I like to think of them as rage therapy in that respect and tonight they're holding NOTHING back in delivering it.. OOOOH FUCK NO!! IT'S A FUCKING MASSACRE!! Of course in saying that I AM presented with a few teeny tiny "logistical" hurdles in attempting to give you an accurate and indepth portrayal of just WHY this particular set so rocked the shit out of shit a good portion of Adelaide's sewerage system is now shooting off into space out of every manhole cover like a high powered aerosol spray (and yes please resist all temptation to light up a cigarette lighter in riotous solidarity or the entire CBD will go off like a "mushroom cloud") at least short of me making yet more spastically ridiculously hyperbolent claims in describing it (yes I know, sometimes I amaze even myself in writing that shit). For you see when a band like THIS is in full flight: there's no middle ground, there's no compromise, it's do or die, fight or flight, you screaming out of every orifice in an exploding "white hot" fireball flailing on the dancefloor or you're already dead.. it's really THAT simple! Again I'm trying not to exaggerate, without due evidence to back me up here, so let's explain WHY that's a task and a half in itself. First of all the minute they walk on stage, all the stage lights simply go fucking beserk: we're talking an epilectic fit, a fullblown alien abduction, and the outbreak of "World War Three" exploding out of the penile tip of a Daft Punk pyramid combined into the ONE giddy explosion of kaleidoscopic excess. Admittedly it was rather pretty to watch but an absolute BITCH to photograph. And so to "compensate" here: I pretty much spent the ENTIRE duration of their live set tonight attempting to get all these shots you see now, rather than concentrate on documenting any intricate details of their performance; and yes this may also explain why some of my live reviews in general are more indepth than others (I'm actually doing at least three things at once to provide all this coverage.. and that's when I'm NOT drinking!). And yes you're very much welcome here. No really, LOOK AT HOW SHIT HOT SHINY MY SHOTS ARE!! WOOOO!! Secondly, even if I was too distracted to pay any attention to their sound, it didn't really matter because you sure as shit FELT IT. Like being stabbed repetitively in the chest with a fist full of adrenaline, like Atari Teenage Riot and Nine Inch Nails joining forces to gang rape a Super Nintendo (and using THAT as your alarm clock), it wasn't so much FUCK OFF LOUD as Satantically three dimensional.. THAT'S how epic the live sound was. And speaking of such? yes I did finally get over that headache from before, as I'm pretty sure my brain no longer exists in the prime material plane, or in several other astral planes for that matter.. so again you'll excuse me if I'm not really making much sense here. On the flipside however I did steal their setlist, and amongst all the usual suspects: "Bomb In The Head", "Disconnected", new single "I Love You" and "Set Yourself On Fire" (the latter rocking Beastie Boys' "Fight For Your Right" as a slamming intermissional) they also showcased a host of new songs.. most memorably "Flint And The Steel" (but maybe only because I snagged a video of it) showcasing a more stabbingly electro / dancefloor feel and yet in no way compromising on their full throttle ferocity. Overall it was apocalyptically epic skull fucking from beginning to end, like an entire surround sound stadium rock experience smashed into a blackhole singularity and spat out on stage at Jive; and yet you could totally dance to it. The band totally took it in their stride, totally at ease, like it was a walk in the park; no need for egos as much as they were 10ft tall and shooting laserbeams out of their eyesockets in letting it loose. I mean what more can I say? The Killgirls killed! We didn't dare stand in their way, we didn't argue at all, we simply ceded all territory to them to do as they pleased.. WHOAAA!! FUCKING WHOAAA!!
And yet in saying all that I know I'm still omitting all the funny little things that made this live set so stupidly "above and beyond" insane. Little things completely unrelated to THIS shot I got in the middle of their set of course, when I spotted bass player Nick O'Connor goosing about front of stage: thought it'd be hilarious to get all up in his shit head butting his instrument, only to think better of it, only before I could think to walk off he pipes up with "what? YOU'RE NOT GONNA GET A PHOTO OF IT!?" (and thus this entirely unnecessary photo) oh no, it got much stupider than this!
And it's all thanks to the crowd.. yup and I don't necessarily mean these two "beaming nitwits" Nick and Charlie just now (no they were here for Red Apparition originally and they just coincidentially requested a photo at the time). No I mean their near fanatical "suicidal death cult" following that gleefully whips themselves into hysterics almost everywhere The Killgirls play (yeaaah and you'll know them when you see them too). And when they ARE in attendance, and in plague proportions like they are tonight? oh I swear it's like fighting a war on two fronts in vain trying to ignore them. They'll shriek, they'll howl, they'll gnash their teeth, spit, foam and flail in a spastic dancefloor frenzy. And try as you might to be nothing but an "objective observer": doing nothing but taking photos, video and nodding your head along listening intently whilst jotting down an intricate blow by account for the folks back home!? they'll be there to remind you just what this SHIT is all about (and that maybe you should be a whole lot MORE drunk in "appreciating" the mad fuck out of it).
And so after fighting a "losing battle" here trying to tune them all out of my mind for the past forty odd minutes? I figured to hell with it, I might as well throw THEM into the mix as well. And at first? yeaaah I wasn't having all that much luck with it. I mean it's one thing to see everyone dancing up a storm around you beaming like all their Christmases have come at once (it's a beautiful thing to behold!) it's another to do them all justice with a shitty flash photo (or an even grainier bit of video footage). I mean unless there's hoards of crowdsurfing dickheads flying inches from your face? it's just gonna look lame! And so with The Killgirls firing up their finale "These Things": I made my way to the stage left speaker, I widened the scope to capture more of the action and then I got THIS photo, maybe even a whole sequence of them pissing myself laughing, as they proceeded to wave their arms about in an exciteable panic.. "HA HA HA duuude this is awesome! just look at all these screaming lunatics pointing in the air above me! HEY WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT HUH? HUH!?".
"Oh riiight!".
And yup that's how some bands get their "five star rating".. and to think they didn't even need to launch a pissyarse demo, single, EP, album or seven inch vinyl to do that!? YOOOU BAAASTARDS!!
ALL NIGHT GIRLS (****1/2) Now to be honest, we really didn't think it could get much better than THAT. I mean suuure this shit happens almost every other weekend with me.. "wuh, what!? oh I'm sorry I almost dozed off from all the EXCITEMENT HERE!!" but to anyone else present? this would've been some seriously epic a-level utterly unprecedented head implodingly improbable baby Jesus bursting out of a left nipple kinda thing; or at the very least a legitimate enough excuse to get rubbishingly shitfaced at the bar in "riotous celebration". Which is exactly what a vast majority of The Killgirls' crowd DID just now, only they chose a totally different bar to do so.. cue the sound of crickets chirping in a near empty venue as a result and THAT'S the "winning reception" that our fourth and final "headlining" act received when they arrived on stage just now!? HA HA HA AWESOME!! Still as much as this band did get right royally shafted in the introduction here, and probably because they're an "unknown quantity" to the point of being downright invisible to anyone but the most chromosomally damaged trainspotter to the Adelaide scene *cough* "who.. me!?" (oh and maybe the fact they don't have an accompanying myspace, facebook, twitter, Triple J Unearthed, bandcamp or even do shit-fuckall in promoting themselves probably doesn't help matters either) they DO do exceptionally well on one account and that's in winning everyone over with the music itself. "THE MUSIC!? FUUUCK ME!! DO PEOPLE STILL WRITE THAT CRAP!?" (not if they're Kayne West and they get feature album on Triple J they don't.. BUUURN!!). Yup it's a simple strategy really, almost stupidly naive to think it'll still work in this super connected social networking narcissistic nitwit overload we like to call a 21st Century "society" (for want of a better insult) but that's where this band gets you again and AGAIN with nothing but "quality" until you can't help but tell everyone about it, and with luck one of those you "tell" will eventually be compelled to post a blog about it; and yeaaah it's just a pity it had to be me who did it (GUESS I FUCKED THEM UP FOR GOOD AYE!?). Yup this is the All Night Girls. And no this isn't the first time I've written about them (that was back in late September in support of The Salvadors), just like this likely isn't the first time you've seen all three of these band members play as they used to form one half of Tyger Tyger:the most ridiculously overexposed band in the Adelaide scene circa 2008 (which possibly explains why they're adopting the exact opposite in philosophy now) but either way you look at it (even in me revisiting them the second time around tonight) this is a band you want to hype the living shit out of they're THAT fucking good. In the simplest of terms they're EVERYTHING you hated about Richard Ashcroft "forgiven" in the first song (yeaaah remember him storming off the stage at Splendour In The Grass this year? fuck 'im, follow THIS band instead!), fuck it.. they're everything you used to love about The Verve and their "Urban Hymns" album back in 1998! Throw in equal parts Jimi Hendrix Experience, Queens Of The Stone Age, Bruce Springsteen, Dandy Warhols and Sly & The Family Stone and you'd just about have their "DNA sequenced". But what really grabs you is the "heart wrenching soul" of it, or more specifically their authentic, richly melancholic take on the blues. Every song is either about love gone wrong, relationships unrequited, or simple good 'ol fashioned yearning for shit that's never gonna be fixed no matter how much you will it to be so. And as much as they don't draw attention to themselves on stage, short of lead singer Nick Bastiras quipping at the start: "I was kinda hoping The Killgirls crowd would be here dancing with us? oh don't worry we'll be sure to see them all at Supermild" (cue eyerolls) by their fourth song they start filling that floor, they draw them in from far and wide, eyes like saucers, gobsmacked and bugging out, like THIS was the one chance discovery they weren't going to forget in a hurry. That killer combination of Nick's sonorous vocals (delivered smoother than smooth), his wailing guitar solos and both Mick Armstrong and Travis Williamson's bass and drum combo pushing it forward with an ever present urgency? like that last ditch race to the airport in any given "romcom" given new meaning because maybe you're thinking YOU should be doing the same yourself before that significant other in your life is lost to you forever!? "GUH, DAMNIT!! IT'S NEVER TOO LATE!!". Yup that's the All Night Girls. They make you think that shit, FEEL that shit, like an after hours lounge band in the lonlinest bar on Earth urging you on to act on that stupid emotion like nothing else matters! And they might be ekeing under the radar now, but with live sets like THESE? ooooh trust me.. they won't stay that way for long!
1:24AM - And with the last band "done and dusted" for the night but no less celebrated (at least by the dumbfounded word of mouth spread about them) that was "Bootleg" relaunching in 2010? Yup and I'll let you make up your own mind on whether it was a raging success or not (or yeaaah fuck it I think they'll do just fine as long as they keep that lighting rig and get The Killgirls to play every single one of them) because either way? I knew what the deal was with Jive: the DJs might still be playing and the dancefloor might still be buzzing.. but we don't stick around to party in this place, it's strictly business straight down the line and the sooner I get out of here the better (as to be honest the barstaff and security kinda make me paranoid here). I've only downed four beers so far: the first two as a "headache remedy", the second two as "seasoning", but I'm hardly pickled as yet and in leaving I had to consider my options hoping to stay that way. So either I hit The Ed Castle: except they had those "Hot Buttered" doof doof DJs on tonight (and I knew that'd blow a bag of nuts). Hit Transmission at the Bull & Bear: except only a madman would ever attempt that and hope to leave with both kidneys intact (which was SO NOT AN OPTION with a wedding to attend the next day). Or I could hit up Format's Xmas Sex Party Apocalypse: but again I'd surely be a gargling mess in the gutter (and how!) if I took THAT shit head on. Or maybe I could skip the "middleman" entirely and join the All Night Girls who are already heading to Supermild. Hmmm?
1:49AM - And yes before you ask? yes I DID totally take up that last option: it was just too early, a little too weird and I'd probably "compensate" by drinking at least three long necks and waking up in a tree somewhere, and so instead? I found myself heading towards The Exeter. And ideally it would've been my FIRST option but I also knew Australia was playing England for The Ashes at Adelaide Oval this week (cricket, CRICKET!? what the fuck do I know about that!?), early reports suggested that The Exeter, let alone "the entire east end establishment" would be overrun with bogans and the "Balmy Army" hooting and shrieking and flinging poo up the walls. But I also had a contact embedded in the frontlines there, I phoned ahead, they JUST messaged me back, assuring me they'd all died of alcohol poisoning a few hours ago (or maybe they'd moved on to The Crown & Anchor) which was just as well at the TIME, because I'd already walked half way there.
1:54AM - Upon arrival I soon discovered it was all but empty. "Filled" instead with that ever so subtle but all pervading sensation that everyone had long since abandoned this ship save for the captain, his crew and the band still "fiddling" as it sank below the waves. Or perhaps I'm just being wildly facetious and it was still fuck full of people, but not the sort of people I'd readily recognise (or readily associate with outside the occassional pisstaking facebook status comment) or at least not until I stepped out into the beergarden and bumped into THESE three likely looking freaks..
The two on the right you might recognise as Dougie and Jayne Arnott: husband and wife duo from Quiet In The Lab! and the one on the left there is? um shit.. where was I again!? oh yeah, Quiet In The Lab! Apparently they played here at The Exeter tonight as "Quieter In The Lab!" in support of Ambush Marketing's "Last Stand For 2010". Or perhaps it was "Quietest In The Lab!" (as they were missing both Andrew Cuffley on guitar and Joel Durham on drums) and performing as a two piece, possibly on acoustic with the addition of Anthony Wignall from The Keepsakes and Oh Minor who may've ALSO been on acoustic; or perhaps he just stood next to them on stage trying on novelty glasses, goggles and monocles for the entirety of their set whilst farting loudly from his armpit..
Either way I was obviously told at great length and in great detail EXACTLY what I missed out on, why it was surely the greatest gig that ever came to be (in the history of sarcastic statements made to cover up for the fact all this might have been the biggest bullet they ever dodged in not inviting me around to mock them mercilessly for it) or how they might have ALSO warned Todd (from Todd Sibbin & The Opposite Ends) repeatedly that he should never "pull faces" whenever I'm taking photos because chances are they'll come back to haunt him quite like THIS one.. duuude!
2:30AM - So in effort to distract you from THE craziest fucked up expression ever captured on Spoz's Rant in ALL six years of its existence (let alone seen outside of Pablo Picasso's "Guernica") here's a small selection of fine frosty ales we may have imbided to put this shit out of our own memory (and hopefully our recurring nightmares). And before you suggest for a moment that all this may've somehow contradicted my original plan to stay "dead sober" tonight (as clearly those four beers I had at Jive were purely for "medicinal purposes" *ahem*) let me just point out for the record that nothing you ever drink here at The Exeter will ever cause untoward harm to you, your kidneys, liver, hand-eye coordination or higher brain function: for the simple fact that The Exeter is THE awesomest pub in Adelaide, and not because I'm a total hypocrite in attempting to cover for my own arse here (no.. would you believe it's applejuice instead?). Nope, ask anyone! The Exeter is nothing but puppies, rainbows and lollipops.. it's what happens after we LEAVE that's to blame!
3:29AM - But alas all good things eventually had to come to a close: a conclusion we came up with on our own of course, completely unrelated to that screaming and wildly gesticulating black blur pointing frantically at the exit signs "pfft.. no really, who IS that guy!?" just as there's really no points for guessing where I was heading to next, just like I'm really not fooling ANYONE in claiming that I'm anything BUT hilariously shitfaced in this utterly nonsensical "juncture" when I feel oddly compelled to document it in passing with THIS exploding pyramid of crap outside of Kentucky Fried Camel on Hindley Street. But no seriously duuude.. isn't that the maddest shit you've ever seen!?
And it's even funnier too when some random pisswad wanders in a second later, wonders just what the hell it is that you're doing here, only to accidently find himself in the following photo.. hiiilarity!
3:35AM - Yes this is Supermild, yes I'm acknowledging it, no you shouldn't be at all surprised to see me here AGAIN (just like I am every other weekend attempting to crack a "joke" about it) and NO I really don't have a problem with it. Got that sorted? GOOD! because shit damn am I thirsty!
3:59AM - Now if everything had gone according to plan? you wouldn't have seen shit from me here. Nope this would've been that golden moment in any given night where I'd wrap everything up in one of those near nonsensical stringing together of words thinly disguised as a "meaningful summary" (ie: one that somehow puts a "positive spin" on what is otherwise an ongoing exercise in beer fueled rock & roll nihilism.. AND DON'T WE JUST KNOW IT!!). Because to be honest all I had planned beyond this point? was to order up a long neck, hide in a quietest corner of the bar and go all "rainman" obsessive compulsive in sorting my shit out for this blog. Which was a brilliantly organised and responsible plan if ever I had one (and not at all ironic in the fact that I chose to do it IN Supermild instead of heading home already) short of the fact I'm almost ALWAYS ambushed by every raving lunatic in this establishment the minute I ever attempt it.. "GUH!! WHY MUST I BE SO ANNOYINGLY POPULAR WITH YOU PEOPLE!?" (and no don't answer that, it's obviously rhetorical as much as it's meant to be wildly sarcastic). Case in point here: Dave Blumberg. Yup not only was he stupidly beyond retarded drunk (and all the better for it!) in bumping into me just now and "getting all up in my shit" for a retarded photo, but he also wished to inform me that his band Tea are playing next Saturday night at The Ed Castle with All Night Girls and The Betty Airs (featuring Darren Cross formerly from Gerling) and far be it for me to ever endorse such a blithering near incoherent recommendation like that? fuck it.. I might actually wanna go see that shit. Hmmm?
4:17AM - And no sooner did I attempt to return to the task at hand.. and yeaaah I know I'm such a raging party animal of late aren't I? (duuude it's December, I'm sick to death of ALL this shit and if you truly have a problem with that!? BLOW ME!!) I'm then interrupted by Gloria here. Yup you might recognise her from upteen billion OTHER whizzbang appearances in Spoz's Rant (doing exactly what we're not entirely too sure.. but gosh we love her for it!) she also bartends at La Bohème and tonight she's been burning up the dancefloor at Supermild in fine style for the past hour or so (and yes it's one of the most ridiculously awesome things about her). Problem being of course? she's just stumbled upon my genius hiding spot, she's thinking there's something seriously wrong with me here, and despite me giving her the brush off: "duuude it's cool, I'm just sorting through my camera, go back to what you're doing, I'M FINE!!" she's not having a bar of it.
4:19AM - So while I do my utmost in channeling my "inner autist" in filtering out this distraction? (or what I like to call "wiring in to my inner Zuckerberg") she proceeds to make a game of it. And in hindsight? yeaaah it probably didn't helping matters that I'm photographing this insanity either.
But seriously what would you do in a situation like this.. CALL HER BLUFF!? and what? miss out on all the fun of ignoring her whilst simultaneously sitting behind a camera and "taunting" her with it!?
Hmmm no.. she really ain't gonna give this up anytime too soon, is she?
4:22AM - So eventually I think "fuck this shit!".. if she wants me to go nuts on the dancefloor, I'll show her FREAKING NUTS ON THE DANCEFLOOR!! (no, no, not like that! what are you twelve!?), so spastically nuts in fact she'll regret ever egging me on with this "mad charade" in the first place, YEAAAS!! Or at least that WAS my plan until she got promptly distracted by this upright fan blowing in front of her.. so I pretty much just left her to it and disappeared off into the beergarden. WIN!!
4:51AM - Beer garden, me with a dish cloth on my head. I believe this is the most appropriate way to handle the situation dont'cha think? I especially like how it goes all "pointy" at the top too. Yeah check me out, I'm totally Ramesses II and shit.. build me a pyramid ya fucking arseclowns!
This is Dunja.. "who!?" yeaaah I've really got no clue either, apparently we just met (and hell I just thought I'd include her in on this tangent anyways) either way she's totally acknowledging the head exploding awesomatude that is my head towel with gobsmacked amazement here (in fact she may even be "bluescreening" and rebooting over it as I speak). Yup sometimes I stop and ask myself: "Spoz? how can you be SO shit hot fashionista and not even know it!?". In fact sometimes I blow my own mind so damn much street lights totally "brown out" in a one kilometre radius. Hmmm?
And this is Dunja here with her friend.. um.. shit.. crap? I could've sworn she added me once on facebook and I can't for the life of me remember what her name is, or what she's doing with the dish towel here and wait.. WHY AM I EVEN MENTIONING ANY OF THIS CRAP!? Oh that's right I'm at Supermild, I'm in the beer garden, I'm drinking a long neck of Coopers Pale Ale laughing my arse off and I've all but forgotten everything I was attempting to achieve in my "stone-faced sobriety" tonight. Oh and hands up any of you at all surprised this would happen? yup, thought as much!
5:03AM - It's then that I'm sprung by Gloria who's finally discovered my new "hiding spot", and yes the look on her face truly says it all: she's insanely jealous of my head towel. So much so she may've brought reinforcements in the form of Griffy Griff to express that sentiment. AND NO YOU CANT HAVE MY STUPIDLY AWESOME HEAD TOWEL!! SHEEESH!! what.. you mean to tell me Dunja's friend (who's name I can't remember for the life of me from three months ago at Transmission!?) stole it moments ago? and she's already left? and the bar's closing up already? and I'm pretty much just waving my arms about being all shriekingly hysterical and clownshit insane for no good reason here whatsoever!? hmmm yup.. pretty much business as usual as far as I'm concerned!
5:06AM - Back inside and everyone else has already gone home, the place is on whistling dead empty (well it had "officially closed" all of four minutes ago.. so what else do you expect?) but it wasn't to say we were short of things to entertain us, and by "entertain us" I obviously mean distract ME from the fact I'm gonna have to provide stupid captions for all this shit sometime on a Thursday evening the following week, running well over "deadline", caffeinated and horribly sleep deprived (back dated in publishing to 2:48PM on a Wednesday in a move that'll surely not fool anyone) and I'm really just shooting myself in the foot here. But hey, how could you possibly go wrong with the hilarious "whizzbang excitement" that is Griff spraying a shook up beer into a fan?
Or both Griff and Gloria pulling mad shapes on an empty dancefloor?
Or what rapidly devolved into this retarded spanking competition between Griff and Gloria whilst pissing themselves laughing..? and.. um.. yeaaah I know I'm kinda drunk by this point but I'm REALLY not drunk enough to deal with THIS shit.. so I'll just let my own way out then? aaawesome!
5:23AM - Now this would usually be the point at which I'd end an episode. And yes I admit it's at a pretty fucking weird way to end it: I'm aware of that fact, I'm ok with that fact, these things don't necessarily ALWAYS go to plan (and sometimes you kinda have to pummel the shit out of them with sledgehammers to make "narrative sense" of it) but then things took a decisive turn into "woweeee! this is Peter Jackson's extra EXTRA special director's cut edition of Spoz's Rant and we ain't ever gonna end this anytime too soon" territory, when I get talking to the taxi driver. Now I don't know HOW we ever got onto this topic (probably for good reasons) but somehow we got talking about meat pies, he got all weirdly enthused, and moments before South Road hitting the traffic lights he suddenly came up with this brilliant idea: if I was up for it, he'll totally stop the metre there and then, we could both hit Cafe De Vili's (the awesomest 24 hour bakery anywhere in Adelaide) and we could both go freaking nuts on some meat pies. And because I clearly live in a ridiculous world where shit like THIS happens all the time? I go "suuure.. WHY THE FUCK NOT!!".
5:28AM - This is a Vili's curry meat pie. I can't for the life of me remember if it was the chicken or the beef (wait, they have both!?) but likely the details don't matter.. suffice to say it was the best damn pie you could EVER have exploding all over your taste buds at 5:28 in the morning short of maybe all the OTHER insane choices on offer (Hungarian goulash anyone!?) and short of the fact I was sitting here with my freaking taxi driver who was having a pasty at the time. Oh and I might even have gone for a second one: and that'd be the gourmet chicken there on the right.
5:40AM - And just to prove I didn't make this whole thing up? (pfft.. as if you'd ever suggest anything I write is anything but 100% fact!) here's the "taxi driver" in question who's conveniently chosen to stay "anonymous" (but perhaps only so that the police will never hope to identify him if ever he turns out to be a dribblingly mad serial killer/amateur butcher/part time taxi driver, and my camera card and dental remains end up surfacing in a Balfours servo meat pie in three weeks time. Because yes I've watched "The Bone Collector" and I swear that shit could actually happen!
And despite all evidence shown to the contrary tonight? you'll be "pleased" to know I didn't wake up buried six foot under in a pinewood box, a stainless steel cabinet, gargling in a gutter, halfway up a tree, trapped in a perspex cube slowly filling with water or (and here's the real shocker) with anything even approaching a "hangover". "WHOAAA NO WAY!!". Yup I totally left that house the following afternoon, AFTERNOON and I didn't instantly shatter into a million red embers the minute I came into contact with full sunlight. I got to the wedding in time: it was at The Adelaide Zoo, it was a beautiful ceremony (yeaaah like YOU give a crap!) and I totally didn't fuck it up either! (or at least nothing a little bit of Photoshop and facebook detagging couldn't solve). Yup I reckon these crazy kids will do just fine! I mean just look at them! doesn't it just warm your heart!? (damn lucky baaastards!) just as I'm damn sure I dodged the biggest bullet THIS Friday night to get there in one piece, more or less articulate and with my sanity still intact to help them celebrate it *phew*.
Yup how do I do this!? I mean ALL OF THIS, this head explodingly shitcrazy blog production every week without going completely fucking insane crushed under the full weight of it? JUST HOW DO I DO IT!? I probably knew once, even had a dab hand at "orchestrating" it.. but a lot of it feels like it's on "autopilot" now, or maybe it's an audio podcast, or maybe it radiating out of my eyesockets like an astrally projected auto immune response magnified on a gargantuan all encompassing "Adelaide scene" scale and I'm everywhere and nowhere simultaneously with a camera in hand like a retarded automaton collecting data and beeping even when I'm sleeping.. "DUUUDE!!" (I know I SO need a holiday and January couldn't come soon enough!). Nope all I DO know for certain are the split second decisions I make teetering on the brink, when I catch myself in a moment: hitting the ground running, painting myself into a corner, eyes wild spinning in search of the horizon, mind ticking like a doomsday device (deadline looming), trying to figure out just how all these pieces fit into the one cohesive narrative so then I can press publish and be done with it.. FUUUCK!! I know I survived this night, I survived it like a pro, I always do I'm freaking awesome! but I also know that before that dust can settle? there's always another one just like it, JUST AROUND THE CORNER!!
