Knowledge Comes with Death's Release

It's been almost a week since David Bowie passed, and almost a week before I've been able to properly say anything about it. ABC's Rage is on the TV right now playing a selection of his videos, and even the later ones I didn't really get into are tugging at my heartstrings at the moment. I figure that where best to say something than the long neglected music blog named after him? Maybe this final post will be a fitting end to a website which I actually did quite well at maintaining for a good couple of years.

Yesterday I went out with my Ziggy Stardust album cover t-shirt on, and a lady at a pretty typical womens boutique recognised it and asked if I was devastated. All I could do was nod and say "yes. yes. yes." I've actually had multiple people (some who I haven't heard from in years) contact me and tell me they thought of me straight away and was I okay? It was overwhelmingly sweet to know so many people remember how much Bowie touched my life. I couldn't say much more to them than "I'm shattered, thankyou." I'll try and be a little more eloquent today.

Bowie wasn't always in my life, consciously. Subconsciously, though, he was everywhere. My parents were huge, ridiculous fans, as were most of their friends and family. I remember lying in bed (probably mum and dad's waterbed) while they were hosting a dinner party and hearing a song about some dude named Major Tom who seemed to be in a bit of a pickle. Quite a few times. One of their family friends owned a dog named Ziggy. Labyrinth, and Jareth's codpiece was on the TV often. He was very much around.

It wasn't until I was late in highschool and my family decided to have impromptu vinyl nights in the living room while my young sister complained from her room next door, that I started to discover him properly. Mum and Dad went to see him while on his Reality Tour (I was underaged and of course wouldn't have afforded it anyway) and I was jealous as hell. In my university year, I went along to a Bowie tribute music night at the Tivoli Theatre, with my parents in tow. Musicians such as Tim Steward, Katy and Tyrone Noonan, Annie Lee, Tylea and Guy Webster performed 'The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars' in full. That was it for me, I was done.

Since that gig, important times in my life have always had a bit of Bowie tied in. There's probably a Bowie moment for every one of the important people in my life. There's a song for every feeling I've experienced, every lover I've had. The time I was tossing up whether to date someone; hearing 'Drive In Saturday''s lyric "She's uncertain if she likes him/But she knows she really loves him", helping me make my decision. Countless discussions of Bowie's music, or who right now fits the description of this generation's Bowie (no one), on an internet forum, many forumers of whom became close friends. Getting 'Pin Ups' (which I'd actually not heard at the time) from one of those close friends for my birthday. Dragging some friends and a sibling (some of whom didn't know much about him) to go to an appalling Bowie club night in a dingy bar. Going to see the film of 'The Rise And Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars' at the Gallery of Modern Art with another friend and accidentally clapping after a few of the songs finished. Wearing a Bowie mask and carrying a poster saying "This ain't rock and roll, this is genocide!" as I and a close friend marched down Brisbane city in protest of closure of aboriginal communities. And of course, debating whether "Heroes" was overrated or not with a guy I'd just met at a party, culminating in him showing me his Heroes dance in my living room. He's currently sitting next to me in our living room and four years later we're still debating.

When I turned 25, "All the Young Dudes" was posted on my facebook wall. When I travelled to Europe, "Fantastic Voyage" was playing on my ipod. When I've left an unpleasant work experience, "Look Back In Anger" or his version of "Friday On My Mind" have been blasting out of the car speakers. Whenever if ever I get engaged, "Be My Wife" will be playing in my head. When I reach my 5 year wedding anniversary, "Five Years" will be karaoke'd by the both of us (if this doesn't happen, I've married the wrong guy). "Kooks" will be the theme song for my first child.

My life is David Bowie in some way or another. Hearing his passing was like having a piece of my life die. He'll never know the impact his life had on me, and I'll never be able to see him in the flesh to at least scream my praise to him along with the crowd. But, as one of those repeated memes has said, I'm so glad to have got to know him in my lifetime, even experience some of his new music as its being released. I'm a lucky girl to have my life so enriched by him.

Thanks David Bowie. No, you're wonderful.

 

CAST YOUR MIND BACK: Episode 5, 1997: The best year of our lives, apparently. And accurately.

***WARNING, NECESSARY SWEARS***

HOLY FUCKING SHIT GUYS. It is definitely an accurate description to call 1997 as the best year of music, possibly ever, definitely in Australian history. If we could bottle this slice of musical history and drink it up it would be the sweetest, most excellent drink in the world. It was RIDICULOUSLY HARD to pick 15 of the most memorable for this year, simply for the fact that nearly EVERY GODDAMN SONG was good and IS STILL good. With the absence of maybe Pauline Pantsdown, the top 20 was consistently decent, every song still standing up today, yes even you Chumbawumba, still getting flogged during sporting events. Music has never been this good since and never will; even the novelty songs and one hit wonders had repeat listenability (except maybe "Cows With Guns" by Dana Lyons).

Bands such as Blink 182, Smash Mouth, Cornershop, the Verve, and Dandy Warhols were coming out with their big time debuts, hitting big before their inevitable roll downhill. Not only was the international scene prime, but the Australian scene was just NAILING IT, with debuts from Jebediah, Living End, The Mavis', Grinspoon, Powderfinger (JC is one of the few songs of theirs I have willingly listened to)  and solid follow ups from Silverchair, Custard, Spiderbait, and of course the number one spotters the Whitlams. Kylie was still in indie girl phase, Nick Cave was breaking hearts with 'The Boatman's Call', and Regurgitator were just about to start killing it with 'Unit'. If a few of those Australian artists had stopped there, they would have achieved legendary status. 

I'm sure there was some crap that year as well, but the fact is also that people were listening to the right stuff too, and it all made it in, even Ween. (Nothing from Björk's 'Homogenic' made it in, but we'll let that one slide.) And every band whether you liked them or not had a good song, Beck, Blur, Marilyn Manson, Metallica. I can't emphasize it enough; during the final Hottest 100 of the last 20 years countdown in June this year, the most entries were from 1997 (with 12 of them), and it makes perfect sense. It was a brilliant year. 

So with that said, I will focus more on the obscurities than the obvious, we-all-loved-it songs, otherwise I'd be here all day, and APPARENTLY MY BLOGS ARE TOO LONG. 

Daft Punk - Da Funk (at #98)

I think the only reason this wasn't higher in the mix was because of there being just so many good songs this year. No one could forget the classic Spike Jonze directed film clip in which dog faced boy Charles with his broken boombox and leg gets around New York. Interestingly, the actor who plays Charles has had his finger in a few Jonze-ish pies since then.

Faithless - Don't Leave (at #95)

Everyone knows Faithless as the whole deep trancey stuff, with Dido thrown in there time to time, but this song was one of their underrated gems before that whole image took over. Such a delicately heartfelt song that very much emulates the tragedy of breaking up. Looks like it was used in 'A Life Less Ordinary', as was the excellent Beck song ''Deadweight'' that year. Great film too!

Brainbug - Nightmare (#85)

One of those one hit wonders I'm talking about, and a bit of silly fun. Brainbug was an Italian electronic dance music producer, who disappeared from the scene after the 90's and whose other songs at a glance sound a lot like this one. The filmclip made it a lot of fun though and was a great watch during a saturday morning Rage session. 

Space - Female of the Species (#75)

Space were a little band out of Liverpool that made it big with this single, then released 'Tin Planet' which I bought from Crazy Clarks for $10, then disappeared and never came back again. A real shame, as their quirky pop rock was extremely good stuff, and this song is a sexy slice of musical cheesecake (just imagine a better looking guy is singing it). 

Front End Loader - Pulse (#72)

This is a perfect rock song. It picks and slows down in the right places, makes you feel like moshing, harmonizes perfectly, indulges in slightly morbid subject matter. I think my whole family loved this song. Also it's fitting that Regurgitator's replacement drummer Pete Kostic was in this band, 'cause those drums! I've listened to it 3 times just now and could go a fourth.

Robyn Loau - Sick With Love (#71)

Remember Girlfriend? You had blocked that out, hadn't you? They were responsible for me wanting to wear flower hats when I was 7. The frontlady of the early 1990's australian girl group (only 90's australian girl group??) grew up and released this (terribly written) single in 1997 and it actually did pretty decently. Nothing really came out of that however, except that years later when re-discovering it, I added Robyn to MySpace and actually had some back and forth comments. 


White Town - Your Woman (#59)

Another slice of musical perfection, don't even tell me you disagree! It was played over and over again for years after it came out, and you can still catch it making a go-around. I loved it soooo much. White Town was greatly a one hit wonder, however the one guy who makes all of the music in White Town is still very much doing music. 

Arkarna - Eat me (#50)

Arkarna was another forgotten band I totally adored. I never got their album "Fresh Meat" but I taped their Live At the Wireless set for it at the time and played it constantly. Such good tunes, and such cute dudes. Fun fact: their song "So Little Time" became the theme song for Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen's TV show of the same name. BIG MISTAKE GUYS. 

Filter feat. the Crystal Method - (Can't You) Trip Like I Do (#47)

Before Filter were asking us to take a picture, they collaborated with The Crystal Method to create this brooding speedy track for the purpose of the soundtrack to 'Spawn'. Frontman RIchard Patrick's screeching vocals is a perfect accompaniment to the squeaky electronics and breaking beats. And because of this song, everyone remembers that great movie 'Spawn'.

The Cure - Wrong Number (#45)

Probably the last really popular Cure song they've created, this song was completely flogged on Triple J when it came out. It was totally unavoidable, and way too difficult to get out of your head. It was also pretty excellent, thankfully, reminding the public of why the Cure are so good, even if it is silly to like the Cure.

Pendulum - Coma (#37)

NOT to be confused by another Australian irritating dub-step band, Pendulum were close to giving me nightmares with this song. Opening with a really well picked creepy line from the not-so-creepy Eddie Murphy film 'Coming To America', add that to the cat-miaowy noises and footsteps, equals a song that takes you to all sorts of disturbing mental places. Fantastic. 

Regurgitator - Everyday Formula (#19)

The 'Gurge really sold their electro-punk-pop for me with this song, coupled with their Tron homage film clip. It also really sold Quan Yeoman's face to me as well. This was the year 'Unit' was released, which would go on to become their biggest hit and one of Australia's best albums of like, forever. 'Unit' kept them in the ARIA charts for something like 3 years, as they gradually released super fantastic single after single. I lusted over this album all throughout my childhood (It was R rated), surviving on a recorded tape of singles that I got off a friend. Finally my mum bought me a copy when I was a uni student, which was almost a humour joke after all that.

Cordrazine -  Crazy (#17)

I can still listen to this song for it's brooding, haunting melancholy. It seems to perfectly encapsulate that feeling of being out of control and isolated, with lead singer Hamish Cowan's voice a perfect accompaniment for the mood. This was the big single for Cordrazine, an Australian band that faded away not long after this hit. I remember seeing them on the bill to play at the Zoo in 2010 however so it appears they did reform (as is the thing to do in the twentyteens).  

Quindon Tarver and Lee Perry - Everybody's Free (to Wear Sunscreen) (#16)

Baz Lurhman had a bunch to do with this song which coincided with the excellent Romeo and Juliet soundtrack. Little man Quindon Tarver had won hearts with his gospel voice and ensured the track was not all about some old guy dishing out intriguing advice. The advice was pretty timeless, although very open to parody, achieved somewhat well by John Safran. 

Radiohead - Paranoid Android (#9)

I've done enough tooting of my own horn about Radiohead to fill a blog on its own.. but I have to tell you this song was the beginning of a long, long, long love affair with them. They've never let me down, and this song was worth an album of goodness, it has so much depth and creativity and emotion and layers and multiple playing power. The song, with the clip, takes you into a dark, aggressive place, and at 11 I had no idea how much that place would mean to me in my teenage years. And that's all I'll say.

So yep, done, dusted, 1997: best. I dare you to top it. Won't happen. 
P.S. Special thanks to Mike the Lover for letting me do this on his Mac. Hey did you know that Macs are really good?

The Damned, The Hi Fi, Thursday 19th January, 2012

Back in "the day", Triple J ran a Hottest 100 songs of all time. This was in 1998 when I was in primary school and living in Caboolture and the Hilltop Hoods didn't exist. I remember voting for "Joga" by Björk and also "Happiness" by Regurgitator, because, you know, they were the best songs of all time. Dad voted for "Smash it Up" by the Damned, the English goth punks from the 70's. I remember he wrote as his 25-words-or-less rationale: “because in my youth I often wanted to smash things up and I'd be damned if the Damned got there first”. My dad probably doesn't remember this, but I do. Years later, I discovered the Damned for myself, after finding a CD copy of 'Machine Gun Etiquette' and buying it for him, and have since forever associated Dad as being a big fan of that band. And no amount of mum saying 'But he HATES the Hi Fi!' could stop me from buying him a ticket to their show for Christmas. What followed was a lovely daddy-daughter evening, where I ate a leek tart at a restaurant that served possum, and had 2 glasses of very nice wine (Dad = still able to drive; me = wheeeeeeeee!)

The Damned were scheduled to start at 9.30, a welcome early start for the Hi Fi – I still remember walking out of there after 1am one night while Tim Rogers was continuing to prance about. We still had a half hour wait ahead of us, so grabbed a drink as Dad lamented on how much he hated the Hi Fi: Me- "Well the Tivoli has a name behind it where as the Hi Fi is still gaining one." Dad- "The Hi Fi has a name. It's “crap”." 
Granted, it is a pretty terrible sounding venue, not quite as bad as Woodland, but one of those place where it is better to be situated in the middle back area than anywhere else. And when you're at a "rock show", you naturally want to experience it as close as possible, am I right?

Which is exactly what happened. Expecting myself to lead the way into the surprisingly large, goth-dressed crowd of all ages, Dad actually took the initiative to force us through people with gusto, pushing us through without a thought for some of the annoyed comments they gave. Slightly embarrassed from being "those people", I also couldn't help but be proud of my Dad the middle aged pusher-inner-er. How very rock & roll. 

The band kicked off with cheers from the crowd, with an immediately gritty tune I didn't recognise; "Neat Neat Neat". The band wasn't overly 'dressed up' as what must have been the case in their heyday, but they were definitely in signature style. Captain Sensible looked like he had stepped out of a french cartoon with his trademark beret and sunnies, and a brightly striped shirt with "FREAK" written on it. Lead singer Dave Vanian was only subtly vampirish with suit, sunnies and a slightly pasty appearance. Together they looked like a motley crew of ageing dudes still kind of stuck in the 70's but with absolutely no shame.

Together they played a tight, energetic set, which sounded pretty decent despite the aforementioned limitations of the Hi Fi. Avian and Sensible's voices sounded slightly matured but still strong and sporting that Brit-punk accent. To me, their style and sound has always felt similar to that of the Stranglers, and I couldn't help thinking that throughout their show. Luckily for me they played a nice helping of 'Machine Gun Etiquette' songs, including "I Just Can't Be Happy Today", and "Love Song", as well as their other big hit, "New Rose", and many other songs that held true to their raw style. There was a lot I didn't know, but all of it was pleasing to my ears and bopping feet, and reminded me of how much I love this era's music. Even though I'm too young to ever really fully appreciate what it was all about, the punk rock and new wave of the 1970's-1980's somehow makes me feel at home, safe and happy. Maybe, or likely, it's just my parents' constant churning out of its music in my younger years that has done that for me; combined with the fact that its songs will always be there, untainted, permanent and still fresh, while new music continues to deteriorate with re-hashing, mass production and autotune.

bassist Stu West, Dave, and Sideshow Bob (aka Monty Oxy Moron)

Anyway, the show continued with the band not losing an atom of energy, and sharing their joy at playing their catalogue to an old and new audience. Capt. Sensible and at times Dave addressed the crowd between songs with reminiscence, such as Sensible's musings about Malcom McLaren, and his acknowledgement of the Saints: "Everyone thought the Sex Pistols started punk. But I think it was the band right here that did it!" Cue cheers and claps. After slogging through a fair amount of typically short punk tunes, they exited for a few minutes in preparation for their encore. I have to say, waits for encores have been very short lately, which has been both pleasing and efficient. Good job bands!
They came out with their 1985 hit cover "Eloise". During the show I had been looking over at my dad from time to time to ensure he was enjoying himself, which he appeared to, but I knew that it would have all been given a sub-par rating if they didn't play "Smash It Up" (parts 1 AND 2). At this point I suddenly worried they weren't going to play it. But luckily, as "Eloise" finished, the moment came when Dave announced the next song. The opening chords of "Smash It Up parts 1 and 2" began and the already energetic vibe was increased 3 fold. As part 1 kicked into part 2, I couldn't help but jump at the awesomeness. It was a wall of raw, explosive, joyous sound (always *good for a Hi Fi gig*). Dad looked a bit more smiley. As the song finally subsided in it's lazy final lyrics, it was an awesome ending to the show. We battled the crowd out with ringing ears and I finally felt comforted in my choice of birthday present for Dad; we were both glad we came. The Damned has proven that despite it being 2012, they can still draw a crowd and replicate the feel of 1979, showing there is a reason they still stand out as one of the first successful punk bands of all time.

Then, while youtubing for this post, I found this cover of Love's "Alone Again Or". Every punk band that doesn't die with the genre inevitably ends up making musical mistakes. But why did they do this? It just sounds the same but with 80's tackiness splashed all over it. WHY? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY???? Why.


8 red berets out of 10. 

tUnE- yArDs (with Wintercoats and Fox & Sui), Corner Hotel, Richmond VIC, Sunday 14th January 2012

8am Sunday morning I travelled to Melbourne for essentially one purpose: To see the lady who has restored my faith in modern music of today and in the future. It has come to mine and others attention that I have become a bit obsessed with Merril Garbus, the brain behind tUnE-yArDs. I was still exhausted from the hours of supporting myself at the Arctic Monkeys gig that night before, and was travelling on about 4 and a half hours sleep, but I spent the day around the city resisting all ideas of napping. Pepped up to the point of jitters on 2 mochas and a berocca, I found my way to the Corner Hotel in Richmond, with a half hour to explore before the support acts began. 

I was surprised by the lack of people as support act Wintercoats began- an act I had discovered a few weeks earlier with interest, and is getting a decent amount of 4ZZZ airplay of late. I must admit, I'm stupid when it comes to appreciating something for what it is, and instead end up comparing stuff to the experiences I've already had. And while doing this, in my experience, a Brisbane show usually has ten times the huddle of people for the first support act than the Corner did. (Is the Melbourne music scene so thriving that people don't care much for their local music? Sorry no, I'll stop judging..) 
Anyway, Wintercoats was an engaging, awe inspiring show, in which James Wallace carried his performance with merely a violent, loop pedal, and his voice. He did everything imaginable to that violin to create the sounds of his latest creations: strummed, plucked, played, tapped, even sang into it, and the result was quite ethereal and magnificent. While I applauded his ingenuity and creativity (and ability to plow through his songs without a beat), it also made me inspired that if one guy with a violin can do all that, I wouldn't need much to make my own live musical project. Except maybe.. talent... commitment... lessons... and money...

Anyway, James trotted off and not much of a wait later the young looking pair Fox & Sui replaced the stage with an array of synths, a bass and some greenery. My immediate reaction was "Indie! Oh god the indie!". But as the music began it went to show that first impressions can be deceiving and I should keep my snobbery to myself. While very style driving (maybe Little Dragon meets Beach House) the music was catchy, breezy, and danceably enjoyable, even enticing a couple of hipsters to dance at the front as the rest of us sat comfortably. They expressed their happiness that so many came to support them and mentioned already having seen tUnE-yArDs at Sugar Mountain festival already (rub it in yeah?). The only thing that fit my original judgment was their insistence upon using a watery rainforest noise effect in between every single song. 


So moving along, the thing that I don't really have experience with at the Corner was the curtain, drawn before each act. It prolonged the mystery of what we'd expect when tthey opened, however distanced us a bit from the artists themselves. It also prevented me from acting on my decision to grab a setlist after the show. Disappoint. As I waited for it's final parting I overheard one audience member say perhaps too loudly "At least there aren't many lesbians here tonight! Last time there were only lesbians!"... 
Anyway the curtain finally were drawn to slap past my eager face and see Merril right up to the microphone with her two drums either side of her- all distance gone as she was so damn close to me. Hence, photo GOLD. 

VIEW= A+!!!

bassist Nate Brenner

She kicked off with a few minutes of improvised howling, growling and vocal sretching which in one way was a bit alienating but in another, fixating. Her vocals then began to be looped as her bassist and sax duo turned up, and together they presented us with "You Yes You". Oh.. words escape me. I'd seen Youtube videos of the band in live action, Merril prepping herself with her loop pedal, drums and ukelele, and playing her heart out with her signature screech; but nothing could compare to the real thing. Seamlessly she began her harmonies and lead the band in, each song keeping to absolutely faultless timing without a whisper of a prompt.  

Merril and Sex I mean Sax Crew

I can't emphasise the timing enough; in the next explosive selection, "Gangsta", the bridge with its schizophrenic timing was executed like magic... I was gobsmacked. It would have been more awe inspiring had I NOT seen the videos but they had got me excited for the gig (and probably initiated me to actually travel for it), so I REGRET NOTHING. For all I know it was all extremely rehearsed to perfection, but it sounded so fresh and beautiful, and it'd be nice to see such dedication in all live music performances.

The songs continued, Merril expressing everything she sang through her eyes and mouth, wide eyed in some moments and closed in enjoyment in others. As a performer she connected subtly well with the audience as if sharing a fond memory or joke, especially with a coy smile in a few rare occasions when a loop didn't kick in or a strum failed. She explained her strumming issue as due to a nail she had specially designed for her ukelele having come a little loose, bringing a human side to her genius (and an "aww" from the audience). She also appeared extremely pleased that such a large group of people had turned up to see her, and remarked upon the fact she was used to being relatively unknown during tours in new countries. Thanks for making us feel cool, Merril!


Her setlist was made up of most of 'W H O K I L L', the only glaring exception from that album being "Riot Riot". She also introduced "Hatari" from her previous album 'Bird Brains' and also the only other non-'W H O K I L L' track I knew, "Real Live Flesh". All the songs she and the band performaed were replicated with all the precision, energy and passion as on record, enhanced further by being able to watch it all unfold layer by layer. The magnificent sax section went nuts with their crazy solos and peppered contributions toward each song. Amongst it all was Merril's enormous, all-encompassing voice, which did not falter an inch, and threatened to make my eardrums explode with it's sheer volume. 
She came back for just one encore song, being "Party Can (Do You Want to Live)", a most appropriate choice thanks to the back and forth: Merril "Do you want to live!?" Audience "YES!". It left me with such an inspired buzz, which tUnE-yArDs' music really seems to be trying to do; to push the envelope and the people in it to go out and be alive, say something, do something, scream and howl and dance and make sense of this crazy world of sex, drugs and politics. 
tUnE-yArDs Brisbane show is tomorrow night at the Powerhouse, at which time I will be tied up with singing "everybody knows I'm a mahfuckin' monstaah" at the Big Day Out. Tickets are still available which means if you're not joining me at BDO, you have no excuse not to go check her out. You really, really, really should. Unless, you know, you hate lesbians. :/

BANGBANGBANG

Nine and a half bangs/ukes/tribalfacepaintings out of 10.