Gimme Indie Rock

Three score years ago I had this sweet little scam going with the FasterLouder website. Well aware they were total gunk, I offered to ‘professionally review’ some CD’s for them. They sent back a list of largely dire review CD’s and foolishly obliged my request for five at a time. Spoiler: I never wrote those five reviews. The next month another list came and again I cherry picked the best of the bunch. Five more CD’s arrived and five more reviews were unsent. This went on for months - I couldn’t believe how dumb they were.

One of those 15 free CD’s was Domino’s reissue of the Sebadoh III album. I’m not going to delve into the innards of the record, how hatefully angst ridden it’s leader Lou Barlow was, it’s varied style of tunes, great lyrics, production, etc. Dave Lang at the essential Lexicon Devil blog has done a good enough job for us there.

My anticipation of Lou Barlow’s free in-store at Missing Link this Friday (and with Dinosaur Jr at Golden Plains) has me appreciating this gem all over again. If throwaway neo-fuzz folk/punk, penned by a self-loathing nerd sounds good to you (and believe me, it is good), then track down Sebadoh III post haste.

As far as Dinosaur Jr goes, I’ve seen all three members in separate bands - Murph with The Lemonheads in 1997, J with The Fog in 2001 and Lou with The New Folk Implosion in 2003 – but never together. I’m excited to see if these old bastards still have it. Last year's Farm album suggests they do.

Interview With Glenn

Last week I had this kid called Glenn ask if I'd do an interview for his school journalism project. I jumped at the opportunity. Glenn was a cool kid.

Glenn: Did you know that the dudes in Tupac Shakur's group (Outlawz) put his ashes in a joint and smoked him?
MoB: Yeah, I heard about that.

Would you toke on 2-Pac?
Nah, probably not. I didn't respect him enough.

Who would you smoke then?
That's a hard one. That reminds me of Bill Hicks' joke about rolling a cigarrette with Claudia Schiffer's pussy. Yeah, so probably Bill Hicks. He'd like that.

I don't know him.
How old are you, 16?

I'm 15
Oh, keep your eyes open and you'll come across him sooner or later.

So why do you do a blog?
Because I can't communcate with people. I hate standing around talking to people, pretending I care about thier idiot existence. Looking in their faces, smiling, they piss me off, like looking at you right now you little bastard.

Woah.
Yeah, woah.

Are you okay?
No I'm not okay - this whole set up is wrong! Fuck this, fuck your project. Get the hell out of here! Leave me the fuck alone...

Negative Guest List

The Negative Guest List is a Brisbane zine run by a misanthrope punk called Brendon Annesley. I think that’s him on the cover. Why not put yourself on the cover? In the pharmacy (buying extra large condoms) I took the opportunity to paint him up with a bit of gloss and blush. He looks more presentable in rouge.

All that’s nice, but Brendon can’t edit for shit. I think he knocks these out pretty quickly; this must be a few months old by now, who knows, fanzine writers rarely put dates on their work. Issue six is a subversive manifesto of punk rock self-loathing with two major highlights:

1. The page three girl is Fabulous Jarrod Diamonds who, incidentally, has been listening to Lou Reed’s Coney Island Baby for breakfast. FJD calls Melbourne trio Woollen Kits ‘pointless...a carbon copy of Beat Happening.’ A few pages later there’s an interview with Woollen Kits who answer the dreaded ‘influences’ question with: ‘It all started with Beat Happening’! Jarrod, take a bow. If I was the editor of a shit-can photostat zine and got one band to slander another band, only to have that other band actually confirm-in the same issue-said fact, what an indie haterz scoop!

2. The best words here are from DX (drummer, writer, Stained Circles label honcho). It’s a random list of stuff ticking 'round inside his brain, from football to new social media. I actually read it twice - a surprisingly humble rant from a guy I find really inspiring.

Rush To Relax

There's been a lot of type-talk going on in douche-land ( I should know, I live there), Re: Tom Hawking's review of the new Eddy Current Suppression Ring Album, Rush To Relax. Woah, long opening sentence. Lucky Norman Mailer's dead or else I'd be fugged...

I love a good debate about music, especially when a review gets people's backs up. Hawking's review does a good job. I agree with him for the most part, except his lamentation that ECSR don't push themselves to do something different/risky. This whole thing of the band 'limiting themselves' is garbage. ECSR play dumb rock n roll, it's not high Art. When you over intellectualise dumb things, they lose their original joy and just become collateral in the great art debate. If ECSR don't want to go in a dub-step direction, that's fine with me. If they do, I'd be keen to hear it.

What's wrong with bands that rest on their laurels and make the same record twice? How many versions of Ned Kelly did Sidney Nolan paint again?

Hawking also took a swipe at Brendan Huntley's 'self-consciously ingenuous lyrics' suggesting they are the album's weakest moments. Really? Huntley's lyrical sincerity and style are one of ECSR's more appealing factors. His simple couplets are fine with me Tom; he's not Keats you know. The list below are almost all the couplets Huntley utters on Rush To Relax. I'm not sure why they're there. I'm sticking up for him I suppose.

Nails/Fail
Blind/Mankind
Fence/Silence
Situation/Conversation
You/Do
Sails/Rails
Home/Own
Brain/Explain
Chest/Express
Inside/Hide
Up/Stuck
Head/Said
Pours/Snore/Ignored
Had/Bad
Mum/Dad
Mail/Fail/Sale
Receive/Leave/Sleeve
Depressed/Stressed/Rest
Fuse/News/Confused
Feet/Leap/Cheap (?)
Man/Hand
Bus/Trust
Coat/Hope
Be/Me
Fight/Right
Street/Feet
Flat/ Hat/Mat/Cat
Eat/Meat
Eyes/Arise
Wall/ Fall
Jerk/Work
Cry/Lie
You/Too
Return/Earned/Burn
Turn/Learn/Burn
Song/Wrong
Fault/Halt
Expression/Depression
Right/Bright
Mind/Fine
Past/Glass
Stand/Hand/Grand
Demand/Land/Grand
Rest/Breath
Back/Relax

Teenage Kicks

Lately I’ve been revisiting albums that I used to listen to in high school. Believe me - not a lot of that crap stands up. I listen with feelings of shame and disgust at my pimply virgin self of yore. It’d be really cool to say the dub-tapes in my Walkman back then were Black Flag or the Misfits, but they weren’t. Not even close.

I didn’t have a cool older brother. I came from the worst taste in music and have been clawing myself back to myself ever since. You gotta start somewhere, but man, I was such a fucking dork.

I remember exactly where I was when I first heard Nirvana.

My friend and I were walking to school with our socks down doing the share an earphone each technique. I hated them. I was afraid of them. Their music scared me. That sounds so dumb, but it’s true. I liked all those other pussy ‘grunge bands’ that were 'really deep, man'.

It took me a very long time to understand what good music was, mainly because I'd been held under the baptism water of FM radio since birth. The only way to find out about music was to buy it. I had no money for a $35 CD so my nerd crew and I would ride our BMX’s around, steal tapes and dub copies for each other.

It wasn’t all bad. There are a handful of albums that haven’t dated to these ears. Pick of the bunch is Nirvana’s Incesticide compilation from late ’92. After In Utero, it’s my favourite Nirvana release. My favourite songs were and remain the covers: Molly’s Lips, Been A Son and Turnaround. Back then I didn’t know they were covers and I’d certainly never heard of Devo.

I didn't know that punk was an attitude before I heard this either. It’s funny how much you don’t pick up on as a kid. I never connected Kurt’s cover montage with the title pun or even that the title was about such a taboo subject. In high school it didn't matter, this stuff was a portal to another world.

Oh My God, Shut Up, Are You Serious?!

If you, dear reader, had said to me not too long ago that I would still be at school beyond the age of thirty, I’d have killed myself years and years ago.

All this has no bearing upon myself wishing to conduct a short blab about Flying Saucer Attack. Formed in Bristol in whenever it was and then that girl left (maybe) and then it was just the guy all by himself. That’s all I know and that’s all I particularly care to know unless I have to interview him/her for Woman’s Weekly or something.

I used to work at a place where I could watch BBC news all night. Y’know, the same news updated on the ¼ hour situation. You don’t have to watch the BBC long to realise it’s basically the same as your grandma dribbling all over the carpet. If nothing has crashed or blown up by 04.00 GMT, all someone in the third world has to do is turn on an air-conditioner and its ‘breaking news’.

Anyway one night I watched the BBC with this dude who was into some pretty kooky music. Boring story short, he’s been nudging me toward Flying Saucer Attack for about 13 years, and I’ve always resisted for some reason. I couldn’t be fugged researching where to start with these Limeys, so I picked up Mirror by chance, slapped some cash on the barrelhead and dropped the needle. I’ve only listened to the first side (about ten times), but I love what I hear, it’s kinda time-lined for me in that Chicago / Tortoise / 1998-2000’s era.

F.S.A sound like a fish curry made from scratch.

Don't Spook The Horse

I'm listening to Ragged Glory by Neil Young & his band of Crazy Horses. I dug it up yesterday in Bruce Milnes' vinyl clearance rack at Missing Link. Real nice copy for 15 clams. I was gonna buy it on CD years ago and I'm so glad I didn't. It's got Love And Only Love on it, which, I may be mistaken, he played as an encore (along with All Along The Watchtower) at Myer Bowl in Nov 2003.

So many words have been written about Neil it feels stupid tapping these keys with uninformed gunk. I've been dipping into his work for ten years now - staring with Harvest and Live Rust then onto Hawks & Doves and Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere. I haven't even heard Zuma yet. The best so far? That's a real tough question so early in the day, but for overall consistency, I'd have to side with On The Beach.

Stupid Legs Kills Hunam

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Playlist:
Colin Newman - A-Z
Téléphone - Fait Divers (song)
Circle Jerks - Group Sex
Pharoahe Monch - Internal Affairs
Disco Inferno - D.I Go Pop

I want to strangle all the pricks that outbid me on Ebay. Last minute vinyl sharks must die. Heaps goin' on but I can't think of it cos it's all scattered on the floor.

Coburg = Trash

I ventured to Coburg's Trash & Treasure market this morning hoping to dig up tons of rare books and records. A dead baby in a rubbish bin is the best thing I found. An abused copy of Byrne & Eno's My Life In The Bush Of Ghosts came in a close second. The stall holder sold it to me for "one bucks". Yuck, get me out of here, etc...