crazybrave

So I went to see Bobby Flynn on Friday night at The Venue. At least on a blog you can capitalise the name of the joint and avoid those long winded and pointless Three Stooges-esque conversations about where you’re going.

You can probably tell from that enthusiastic opening it wasn’t wonderful. It wasn’t bad; but it wasn’t wonderful. Except for “superfreak” which was truly wonderful, what I heard of it having retired outside for a fag.

The support band described themselves as “two acoustic guitars and fresh air”, but when I described them as “soft cock rock” in my little notebook and handed it to my friend J-Mo, she agreed heartily, as did O. I thought things couldn’t dip much below the first song, which from memory was called “Enigmatic Emblem”, until the words “Angst Ridden Angel” came in breathy earnest.

Dudes, some free advice – it’s not funny or cool to castigate the audience for having a chat at a pub style venue.* Also, you will look sad if you tell people you have sold 4 CDs, which is enough to get to Bathurst, and then wander around the audience between acts hustling your disc directly. He didn’t ask me, but should have, as by then I was prepared to give him $20 just to fuck off.

At 10:45 the main act started up as a three piece but it wasn’t until the full six piece, including visualist jaymis, came on stage that things hotted up. Bobby’s guitarist, the awsumly named Zachary Armytage was superb, but the rhythm section was overall a little cheesy and rigid.

Bobby’s stage patter was a bit twee in parts – he introduced two songs which had “popped out” of him since Australian Idol – but it is the end of a four month tour. Nevertheless there were real highlights, and the band could sustain a very tightly energetic, very funky groove.

YMMV, but I am out of form for late starts, and I think I would have felt much more charitably had I not been so enormously tired by the time the band came on. Also the $11 pizzas at The Venue are McCains’ ones.

* “Pub style venue” is a Canberra term. Elsewhere they have actual pubs.

I had thought that the man from Radio National saying nice things to me in an email after I’d said their “blogger” segments were wilfully stupid was a one-off attributable to seasonal considerations, but the niceness in response to blog rudeness continues.

A couple of years ago I talked about the marvellous Translyvaniacs, and got quite snippy about the between-song-commentary. They are coming back to town and are MUCH nicer than me. I know this because they wrote to offer me a free ticket to their show.

Sadly, having a tiny infant who’s big on what I like to call the clustersuck makes it impossible for me to go. Sniff.

However you should certainly go – they’ll be at the Merry Muse at the Polish Club in Turner from 8pm next Saturday, February 10.

Remember that they’re gypsies, so if you leave your horse outside make sure it’s securely tied.

I’m a fan of this “weekend youtube” habit that people are getting into, and I would very much like to share this with you. It goes for about 7 minutes (the last minute or so is blank), but 4 or 5 should brighten up your day considerably – it’s the Helsinki Complaints Choir:

Why didn’t losing her house, her job and all her mates make Klancie Keogh sound any better on Idol last night?

And could there be some kind of bizarre conspiracy behind it all?

BTW, this over here <– is what people who grew up in Newcastle call a “Gosford Skirt”

Ampersand Duck has posted about the first rush of excitement the Lifeline book fair brings – but I wouldn’t know about that, having not made it until late this afternoon, well and truly the business end.

She was met with a huge queue, which had eased somewhat:

Instead I had to battle the book gutses on their way out:

These were by no means the gutsiest of the gutses – I saw people filling minivans.

And inside was more like this than the literary cornucopia she described:

After I little while, Duck found me – and a little later we ran into Mindy – doing her second bookfair for the weekend (not in the least habit forming).

Still, treasures remained:

Nah, didn’t buy that one. Or these – BOOBS! as Sage would say:

This reminded me of the sad state of literature for young people in the 1980s:

The end of the last day is buy a bag for $2 and fill it for $15. This is my bag with Duck’s last minute special effort, bless her. I am SO good at jamming stuff in that bag.

If you want the full list – and Kamahl pictures – you’ll have to go over the fold.

(more…)

Oh dear, I’m terribly sorry. The blog host had a lie down over the weekend, and I’ve had the flu resulting in prolonged exposure to Paris’ faux boobery.

And I haven’t even got a proper post written, I just had to move it all on down the page a little. Tell you what though, Australian Idol this year is totally awesome! Last year sucked! It took Owy and I fifteen minutes to remember who won last year! But this year! WOW!

I heart Bobby! I totally hope he comes second and builds a sustainable career for he is a true genius! I am off to centrebet now before the odds crash!

And Ricky is too cool for the factory! Save him from Werribee!

And little Jessica! Lovely! Can genuinely sing really good!

Oh Damey Boy, I heart you, as you are a bit of a dag and can sing your head off.

Klancie sings Dolly Parton! Yay! With less boobtacular outfits! Yay! But has no chance! Yay

Dean appears to be creaming the adolescent girl vote and fair enough too as the man has bone structure that would make a supermodel weep!

Lavina! Not just Emily’s sister! Can also sing and prance around, even if (as Kyle said) her hat made her look fat!

Mutto. Meh. But, in a change from previous years, he is not by any means terrible.

Chris. Meh. But, in a change from previous years, he is not by any means terrible. Also with a sibling finalist, Courtney. Still, I think it shoulda been the Other Chris.

Lisa is not “the best thing musically to ever come out of Australia”, at least not for a very long while. I also find her slightly Yankesque intonation a bit irritating and sense I shall weary of her far earlier than many others. But shucks, she’s no Hayley.

Reigan. Parents can’t spell. Keeps picking tricky tricked up songs and is a bit up herself. But can sing.

Joseph is 18, loves his mum a great deal, and can sing and dance a treat. And has dimples. The Nanas of Australia could get him over the line if only they can work out how to send a text in time. Also, must stop calling him “Chocolate Gatehau” out loud.

Even the judges are better this year. Kyle has spoken some sense and is keeping the misdirected and overdone bitchslappin’ under control. Marcia has developed another vertebra or two. OK, Mark did say someone’s outfit “sent a fire down my wire” which made me sick up in my mouth a little bit, but when is anything perfect?

Friends, I don’t know if I shall speak often of Idol, but it’s important people know where you stand and the fake boobs had to go.

For myself, I am hoping from further updates from the hilarious Bland Canyon, and give thanks to comicstriphero for sending me there.

I’m a big fan of Banksy, the extraordinary English street artist. He’s a pretty popular guy, and even has a Flickr group dedicated to snapping his work.

His latest piece of culture jamming just cracked me right up – sneaking arted-up copies of Paris Hilton’s new “record” into shops, changing the inserts and cd but leaving the bar code so it could still be purchased. This is the new cover (love that sticker):

and some ruder (but not horrid) images from inside are here.

It’s on ebay. And YouTube, too of course:

My favourite bit is the reaction of the HMV spokesman in the BBC’s story:

No customers had complained or returned a doctored version, he said.

“It’s not the type of behaviour you’d want to see happening very often,” he said.

“I guess you can give an individual such as Banksy a little bit of leeway for his own particular brand of artistic engagement.

“Often people might have a view on something but feel they can’t always express it, but it’s down to the likes of Banksy to say often what people think about things.

“And it might be that there will be some people who agree with his views on the Paris Hilton album.”

Yup, it might just be.

A big fat hat-tip to Dean of Dnosauria for all this goodness.