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UNBELIEVABLY BAD Issue #3

UB is proudly excreted by Von Helle - 10 Unwin Street, Bexley NSW, 2207 AUSTRALIA Editor : Danger Coolidge Layout : Faye Kinnitt, Ron Dayview

9el[h :[i_]d 0 HWo 7^d Text : Dianne West, Mil Mascaras, Owen Penglis, Kaity Fox, Nutso Ward, Arlo Stecyk, Luke Logemann, Dario Gripewater, Sir Dugless, Angelica Von Helle, Buffy Tufnel, Andrew Houston, Audrey L. Carpetbag, Gersenhousen, Che Macrae, David Yeldham, diepunkdeath, Horst Sjaelland, Dan Stapleton Photography : Rod Hunt, Mel Gathercole, Nic Bezzina, Dianne West, Scarlett Harpo, The Stabs, Tucker B’s, Russell Dolan, Simone Lejune, Mick Sols >aajhigVi^dc / GVn 6]c! G^X` 8]Zhh]^gZ! 6c\Za^XV Kdc =ZaaZ! BVgin HeVXZ_jc`

Printed by : AviVa Print CD Mastering / Swerve Thanks : Our studly and UNBELIEVABLY well-hung advertisers, our stellar cast of contributors, all the bands on the cover CD, weed growers Australia-wide, Elea Logan, Ray Ahn, Swerve & Lucas Plover, Brettlevel Embassy, Dann Lennard, Luke Logemann, Eric “The Baker” Cherry, www.dictionary.com, Jay @ AviVa Print, Fake Names Anonymous, Carmela Von Helle, Unwin Street kids, anyone who has offered positive feedback or constructive criticism, everyone who knows me and has to put up with my shit.

Dedicated to Gary Brown. R.I.P. Send all material for review to: UB c/o Von Helle HQ 10 Unwin Street Bexley NSW 2207 Australia For advertising rates please email unbelievablybad@optusnet.com.au.

UNBELIEVABLY BAD is published every now and then. All material contained herein is copyrighted to its owner. Please don’t reproduce any part of it (except the bits we’ve stolen) without asking first. The opinions expressed in UNBELIEVABLY Bad are almost definitely those of the publisher and editorial staff, but you never can tell sometimes, so don’t jump to any conclusions, okay?

Dearest Friend, My name is Danger Coolidge, an orphan to the late former minister of finance in Liberia Dr. Thomas Coolidge who died as a result of rebel attack during one of their peace keeping forum in the year 2003.

I inherited a total sum of $8.5 million US dollars from my late parents.

This money which is concealed in a metallic trunk box is deposited with a security and finance company in Ivory Coast under a secret arrangement as a family treasure. This means that the security company does not know the real content of this box that was deposited in their security custody.

My main purpose of writing this is because of the way I found you and perhaps trustworthy to give this priority of shipping this box of money to any address that you think is very secured and safe in place with your percentage of which we shall chat on soon. I will come over to your country to continue my education as soon as the funds is claimed by you.

There is need for urgent action because I am paying US$45 dollars per day as a demurrage charges to the security company for keeping this consignment. I give thanks immensely for the co-operation as I look forward to hear from you soonest.

Best Regard, Danger Coolidge

HSFBU!MJUUMF!SJDIBSE!BMCVN!DPWFST Once upon a time rock ‘n’ roll was actually scary. When Elvis came along in ’55, Middle America shit its dacks: “Holy shit, the devil in a jumpsuit, lock up your daughters!” A year later Little Richard hit and it was like, “Tutti Frutti? Jesus H. Christ, lock up your fucking sons as well!”

Little Richard (born Richard Wayne Penniman) is a freak of nature - his songs, his voice, his piano playing, his moves, his style, his charisma, his outfits, his moustache, his pompadour, and, his record covers.

This is by no means an essential list. There are better covers than these out there amongst the stacks of Little Richard releases, but either I don’t own them or they were too hard to track down online. So basically you’re stuck with this…

HERE’S LITTLE RICHARD In paying tribute to himself as part of Rolling Stone Magazine’s “Immortals” issue in 2005, Little Richard wrote: “A lot of people call me the architect of rock ‘n’ roll. I don’t call myself that, but I believe it’s true.” There are literally hundreds of Little Richard releases, but Here’s Little Richard is his original 1957 Specialty Records debut and should be your first stop if buying Little Richard albums for something other than the covers. Not that this cover ain’t great.

I can almost see those golden tonsils.

PROFILE Normally my preference for cover art of any kind is that it should be some kind of “artwork” and not just a photo of the artist with type bunged on top.

But Little Richard n’t buy is the exception to the rule. In fact, I would a picture of a Little Richard album if it didn’t have favourite, him on the cover. This one’s a personal to marvel a nice sweaty close-up that allows you hair. his of ess faken the at ssly endle

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STARPORTRAIT Although I’m sure LR himself had nothing to do with the design of any of his covers, at least he can take credit for looking fabulously fucked-up in the photos.

On this 2-LP set featuring songs he cut for Speciality we get a live shot taken much late r featuring a spaced-out Richard in a cape sporting proto bling-bl ing and a highly impressive electricchair hairstyle.

LITTLE RICHARD & JIMI HENDRIX - FRIENDS FROM THE BEGINNING religious After suffering the first of two serious abandon rock ‘n’ rarily tempo him see would that s awakening comeback in the earlyroll for gospel, Richard made his first ing budding guitarist sixties with new band The Upsetters featur Jimi Hendrix). Hendrix Maurice James (later to be known as is referred to as Richard’s played on several key cuts from what ds From The Beginning Frien them g Vee-Jay period, but callin mates why was this is stretching it. If they were such good s of each artist cover art composed of two separate image you)? Hendrix mind er togeth d playe they’d after (taken years Richard’s on. drugs what s know Fuck ’. looks like he’s trippin

ROCKIN WITH LITTLE RICHARD with one All good Little Richard record covers start rd. I’ve seen a thing: an awesome photo of Little Richa just few carrying illustrations of him and they too much don’t do him justice. Caricature relies room for on exaggeration, and there is simply no d out that with Little Richard. The dude’s maxe ner has put already. The little white glow the desig With Little around his hair on the cover of Rockin h. thoug cool kinda still is Richard

TALKING 'BOUT SOUL the Often with Little Richard albums you get going same old songs and recording sessions Here’s round and round in different sleeves.

Vee another repackaged collection of LR’s h it thoug as looks that photo a with cuts Jay Born could have been taken during one of his talking Again periods. “Hi there! Since we’re d-out ‘bout soul why don’t I put on my freake bad or day hair Good act.” rd Gaylo ian Christ hair day? You be the judge.

!DPNNVOJDBUJWF Issue two showed we were serious about dropping our standards, and the pathetic trickle of letters we received - despite the fact that we'd offered to give heaps of shit away - showed you were determined NOT to let us know about it!

As usual, nerdy zine editor types provided most of our correspondence, but we did get sweet and heartfelt letters from the Mitchell Library in Sydney and the National Library in Canberra. They were just dropping us a note to let us know that copies of UNBELIEVABLY Bad #1 and #2 were now tucked away safely in the vaults so that future generations may get a totally false impression of how life was in this day and age (BTW, if you’re from the future and reading this right now, greetings from 2006! From where you’re sittin’ I reckon this place ain’t so bad).

But the undisputed winner of last issue’s prize pack must go to this random note-style death threat from someone identifying themselves only as “r”. It reads: “DAnGER u COCkfaG yR SLIck presenTAtiOn SucKs IM coming TO Kill U FAGGET r.” Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner!

" " O J X EFDFOU!TIJU

In an effort to encourage better communication between you – yes, you, the cool cunt reading this – and us – yes, us, the sad cunts who couldn’t come up with anything funnier than even a re-write of this half-arsed spiel from last issue – we’re prepared to resort to bribery. What better incentive do you need to send us a letter – yes, a real hand-written letter, not a text or email or some bum chum myspace backstabbing best buddies bullshit – than this mega prize pack containing a bunch of the coolest product around, all personally recommended by the team at UNBELIEVABLY Bad.

One lucky UNBELIEVABLY Bad letter-writing reader will win: 1 x New York Dolls – All Dolled Up DVD 1 x Music For The Movies Of Clint Eastwood CD 1 x The Buff Medways – Steady The Buffs/1914 2-disc CD 1 x Some Girls - Heaven's Pregnant Teens CD 1 x 1990: Bronx Warriors DVD 1x Wolf Eyes – Burned Mind CD 1 x The Specimens – The Quick And The Deaf CD 1 x complete set of Warped swap cards 1 x The Duane Peters Gunfight – S/T CD 1 x Various Artists – Live @ Spectrum DVD 1 x The Melvins – Houdini Live CD 1 x Slayer – Haunting The Chapel CDEP 1 x Guitar Wolf – Golden Black CD 1 x Toxic Avenger 2-disc DVD 1 x Toxic Avenger II DVD 1 x Kes – The Jellys In The Pot CD w/bonus disc 1 x Kamahl – Live At Sydney Opera House cassette 1 x The Bakelite Age – malleable demons plus Q CD 1 x Refused - …Are Fucking Dead DVD 1 x The Drones – Here Come The Lies CD 1 x The Hives – Tussles In Brussels DVD 1 x Zombie Island Massacre ex-rental VHS 1 x Devendra Banhart – “I Feel Just Like A Child” CD-single 1 x Devendra Banhart – “I Heard Somebody Say” CD-single 1 x Itchy & Scratchy comic #1 (reprint) 1 x Terra Firma - Throwing You Down The Stairs CD 1 x Violent Soho – Pigs and TV CDEP Best letter, as judged by Heir Danger, wins all this shit.

Send letters to: UNBELIEVABLY Bad -10 Unwin Street, Bexley NSW 2207.

tjy

Cosmic Psychos: (LtoR) Ross Knight, Dean Muller, Robbie Watts

Ross Knight interview by Gersenhousen.

T

he Cosmic Psychos formed because it seemed like a good way to get free beer.

And for over twenty years they have drunk and played good pounding hard rock all over the world. They have no need for any rock star image. They are just men that strap on guitars, sink a lot of piss, and get the job done!

Wearing their livers on their sleeves for their new “comeback” album, Off Ya Cruet!, the Psychos prove they are far from dead. The first album by the band since 1997’s Oh What A Lovely Pie, it contains plenty of the three-chord straight-up balls and beef sound we all know and love. Throw in a few new touches and a heap of bassist/vocalist Ross Knight’s ludicrous lyrics, and yes, we have a winner!

The only major change for the Psychos has happened off the field, with long-time drummer Bill Walsh being kicked out and replaced with Dean Muller (Hoss). A lesson in anger management, the first track from Off Ya Cruet! is funnily enough called “Kill Bill”. Before playing the song at Spectrum in Sydney recently; Big Knighty bellowed out, “This next one is called “Kill Bill”, so take a number and get in the queue!”

So Knighty, what's happened to Bill?

It's a long story, just mistrust, he really let Robbie (Watts - guitar) and I down. He’s not a bloke you can trust, so we booted him out. Plus, there’s only enough room for one bald man in the band and cause I’m losing my hair that quick, Bill had to go!

What’s it like playing with new drummer Dean?

He’s a really good drummer, technically a brilliant drummer. Bill… he was as bad a musician as what I am.

That makes me the weak link in the band now, because Robbie can play guitar and Dean can play drums. I used to be able to stand there and say, well, at least I’m no worse than Bill. But now I’m fucked, I’m out on a limb.

Do you still see Dirty (aka ex-guitarist Peter Jones)?

Yeah, Dirty still comes and plays with us every now and again; he’s a professor in England now over at Oxford University. Professor Dirty is now shacked up with another Professor. I can only assume it's a female professor, but you wouldn't know with Dirty.

You once did a tour with both Robbie and Dirty playing guitar; would the Psychos ever consider becoming a four piece?

Psychos will never be a four-piece I don't think. I like the gaps and the holes and the frantic three-piece sound. Plus, I had to stand in the fucking middle and I don't like standing in the middle – there’s nowhere to put your beer!

What process went into writing this new Psychos album?

Pretty detailed and technical this one, I wrote a riff a night for two weeks after I had knocked off from work and had a few beers. Then took them to the studio where I ran ‘em pass Dean and Robbie, and they go, “Right-o how does it finish?”, and I go, “I haven’t got that far!” And then we basically recorded it and just with a bit of eye contact finished off the song when it felt right.

What was it like recording at Birdland Studios - one big drinking session?

Oh fuck yeah!! We have done three or four albums there and I never realised (Birdland owner/producer) Lindsay Gravina had one of those fridge trolleys. You know those trolleys that you take up and downstairs that you put fridges on? So he is right next door to a Dan Murphy’s liquor merchant, a Safeway liquor outlet, and a Liquorland - they are all within 200 to 300 metres of the studio. So you can shop around for the bargains.

We were just trotting down with this trolley every day and loading it up with slabs.

What's your favourite song from the new album?

I really like “Drinking with the SAS”, because that was a true story, drinking with a couple of mates that are in the regiment or whatever you call it. And every time I have had a beer with those blokes they leave me totally demoralised for days. Fuck me dead, I mean, I was there after this session and I’m laying on the ground on the farm in the dirt spewing my guts out and I got me mate standing above me going, “Yeah I don't feel to good too!”

What’s the drunkest gig you can or cannot remember?

There was this one gig where we went down to Tasmania a few years ago. All the other boys missed the plane so I got over there on my own and I drank for about seven or eight hours till they finally came. Then we drove down to Devonport, no was it Launceston, anyway, we drank all the way there and when we got there kept drinking, like we were absolutely rotten.

I remember Bill had to stop playing the drums every twenty seconds and put his hand up Down On The Farm mini-LP and apologise to the crowd.

Cosmic Psychos The last thing I remember was “Lead Me Astray” / “No Money” 7” out in the band room area there “Rambo” 7” (single-sided giveaway) was a billiard table that had Go The Hack been pushed to the side and I Slave To The Crave (live) remember laying underneath this Blokes You Can Trust billiard table, looking over like a man who had just been shot, “Dead Roo” / “Can't Come In” 7” raising my head to see Bill lying “Back At School” CD-single in the middle of the room in his Palomino Pizza underpants completely fucking “Garbage Rock” split 7” w/Vertigo unconscious. After that the head (Halo Of Flies covers) went down and I was out.

“Neighbours” 7”/ CD-single Self-Totalled Have you seen much of a “Whip Me” 7” change in your audiences Unplugged CD-single over the years?

Yeah, it’s changed a bit, and “She's A Lost Cause” / “Crazy I do feel it’s sort of gone from Woman” 7” lock up your daughters to lock Oh What A Lovely Pie up your mother all of a sudden.

“Some Girls” split 7” w/The Melvins I don't know what happened (Gearhead Magazine giveaway) there? I never got to chase the 15 Years - A Million Beers 2xLP Best Of daughters and I can’t be fucked Off Ya Cruet! chasing the mothers!

COSMIC PSYCHOS DISCOGRAPHY 1985: 1987: 1987: 1989: 1989: 1990: 1991: 1991: 1992: 1993: 1993: 1994: 1995: 1996: 1996: 1996: 1997: 1998: 2000: 2006:

tfwfo

20 Questions for Nate Newton of Doomriders

By Nutso Ward

B

y some tragic circumstance that I won't burden you with here I acquired this new car and to tell the honest truth it's kinda fucking lame (in an embarrassingly new-ish and schmick kinda way). But one thing it has over my old rust-filled hunk of junk is that not only does the tape-deck work and the aerial hasn’t been snapped off (actually the aerial is one of those fancy ones

that goes up and down automatically), it also has a CD player. This is a new experience for me. I'm used to driving around with wind blowing through the open driver’s-side window into my right ear while this vicious non-stop internal monologue gnaws away at me, cursing every other driver on the road and picking apart aspects of my life for what I can only assume is the purpose of making me a better person. But this CD player in the car business is great. It’s given me a chance to listen to

1. Who invented heavy metal?

Black Thunder by Doomriders more closely, more intensely and more often. And that in turn is helping to suppress the rage festering pointlessly inside me. I liken it to the Ritalin effect, like a big dose of speed to calm you down. Doomriders pry open the pressure valve through sheer force and don’t have the manners to consider closing it again. Here’s a stupid interview with Doomriders guitarist/vocalist Nate Newton, who some may know from his day job as the bass player for Converge.

12. What song is most likely to leave you in tears?

I'm sure that somehow Gene Simmons thinks he did. But we all know the real answer... The Devil.

“Gotta Take A Pee Pee”.

13. What is the greatest Manowar song of all?

2. What were they wearing?

I like “Brothers of Metal” though I’m sure many people will disagree.

Gene Simmons or The Devil?

I would guess they were both dressed somewhat similarly.

14. What is the greatest Doomriders song of all-time?

We haven’t written it yet.

3. Three-part question: What was Jerry Lee Lewis shaking, what was he rattling and what was he rolling?

15. What is the worst cover version ever performed by any band ever?

I really hated EVERYTHING on that stupid Embrace cover LP that Trustkill put out like ten years ago.

Actually, the Avail song was good. I hate The Deftones doing ‘Skynyrd.

Um, nothing because that is a Bill Haley and The Comets song.

4. What was the first song you ever wrote and how did the chorus go?

Me and my friend wrote a song in sixth grade called “Gotta Take A Pee Pee”. The chorus went like this: “You can get the rabbits wet, you can give the frogs a hose / I gotta take a pee pee, ‘cuz if the water’s yellow you’re in luck today.”

Doomriders: (LtoR) Chris Pupecki, Chris Bevilaqua, Jebb Riley, Nate Newton

8. What do you hate?

5. In your experience, what chord progression comes closest to causing female orgasm?

I know nothing about female orgasms. But my first guess would be “No Quarter” by Zep bro.

6. Describe the biggest musical low you've ever had.

Music. Money.

9. What songs have you had stuck in your head lately?

“Iceman” by Descendents and “Chooser of the Slain” by Grand Magus.

One time Converge played a festival in upstate New York and we counted off a song and everyone played something different. Then we got in an argument on stage about what song we were supposed to play. That sucked.

10. What is the stupidest tattoo you’ve ever seen?

7. What is the greatest movie of all-time?

I think we all would have won. Think about it. Axl Rose might be gone, and he couldn’t tarnish Guns N’ Roses’ good name. And there would have been no Mötley Crüe after Dr. Feelgood. It’s a win-win situation.

Starship Troopers. Because within the first 20 minutes there are boobs and someone gets ripped in half. And Michael Ironside.

Just look at my right arm.

11. Who would’ve won out of Vince Neil and Axl Rose?

HPOF

R.I.P. FRIED DOUGH

of ve now stands the empty shell On Stoney Creek Road, Kingsgro resh outlet. Don’t ask me how a Sydney’s first fledgling Fried Doug just as Fried Dough goes broke, it taurant with a name as appealing is that I me most about the whole thing did, okay. I suppose what shits the ressucculent-sounding delicacy of never got to actually taste the opened. was closed before it even really joint The e. esak nam nt’s taura h warm to the idea of Fried Doug to ce chan a had r neve c The publi in there and order some). In a go to age cour the up work (much less somemight have done okay – possibly different location Fried Dough people. America maybe? Now althy unhe fat, of ad shitlo a where with opportunity right there… that’s what you call franchising

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16. List the following in order from the one you’d most want to watch to the one you’d least want to watch: a) WWE wrestling. b) mud wrestling. c) jelly wrestling. d) naked woman's wrestling. e) that show where INXS got a new singer? d, c, b, a, e.

17. If you could go back or forwards in time, what gig would you most like to attend?

Altamont!

18. If you can picture some kind of cross-cinematic reality, would the Ghostbusters have been able to defeat the Gremlins?

The Gremlins had the numbers, but the Ghostbusters had the nukes. If the Gremlins were in NYC though, they would run rampant and overpopulate in the sewers. So I would give it to the Gremlins.

19. Who should be running the world?

Not G.W. Bush.

20. Why does heavy metal continue to influence children to kill their parents?

Because children are stupid.

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6*' )+</15

"MUFF DIVIN’ (IN WILKIE SOUTH)" It’s 1976 and this bunch of brats from Bloomington, Indiana manage to not only write a completely filthy punk rock song about cunnilingus, they also manage to release it on a limited and noisy seven-inch. Consider this song to be the spiritual opposite of the Nervous Eaters’ “Just Head”. In that song, the lead Nervous Eater suggests to his gal (presumably) that “Just Head” will be enough because he’s in a bit of a rush. In the Gizmos world, no one’s rushin’. Judging by their knowledge of oral sex (divulged in a graphically juvenile but wholly endearing splurge of double entendre and bad teenage poetry) and their apparent disregard for musical niceties (their protopunk sound is feisty yet clunky), one can assume that The Gizmos have spent more time in the bedroom than the bandroom. For that, the gals of Wilkie South can be very thankful. Oh, and they also get extra points for rhyming “Gizmos Fans” with “Bearded Clams”.

6*' 8+..#)' 2'12.'

"FOOD FIGHT"

It’s funny that the VPs were so huge when I was a preteen brave, (what’s even funnier was that it never occurred to me that they were - at least supposed to be – gay. Actually, if you had of asked me who I thought was gay at age eleven I would have said Dr. Hook, those two bearded fags sang to each other like Captain and Tennille, or at least they did on the clip they always played on Countdown), but five years later they were floundering big

time. And in the brave new world of 1981 (hey man I was into, like, Discharge) they set out to make their all encompassing new wave, new romantic, disco comeback behemoth flop, Renaissance. From the awful, awful (even by the standards they’d previously set) New Romantic cover to the sterile newro-disco pap within, the Village People’s last album found them and their svengali, Jaques Morali, to be clutching at more straws than one could find feasible. However, this execrable rekkid has one redeeming feature, the final track “Food Fight”, an amazing slice of new wave pastiche. Easily the equal of half of the awful bands on 1981’s Urgh, a Music War (Skafish, anyone?), “Food Fight” is the sound of session musicians letting their hair down and getting a bit “punk”. It’s shit of course, but there’s something about the insane pace, cheese organ, clipped guitar and shouted vocals (about throwing food at the teacher) in “Food Fight” that lends itself to repeated plays and drunken dancing. A song custom-made for the soundtrack of an early eighties tits out frat house movie, I’m still waiting.

6*' 0705 "DECADENT JEW"

My favourite track from this legendary San Franciscan band (they played with the Pistols at Winterland, ya know) features that cat Alejandro Escovedo, the guys that all those Americana pussies get their knickers all in a twist about. In relative stupidity terms, it’s probably up there with “Belsen Was A Gas”, but The Nuns’ stupidity is smarter (okay an oxymoron, whatever that is) and genuinely bleaker than Siderney was capable of. “Decadent Jew”, with its warts and all live sound is the approximation of a drunken, piano-led bar band playing in a wind tunnel whilst a hellwitch screams some lyric or other about being gassed by the Nazis.

The artful guitar licks and strong punk drums are offset by the blonde singer chick playing chopsticks on an electric piano and a tape machine that seemingly wavered in speed during the recording, creating a woozy and unsettling slice of classic American punque.

6*' '2+.'26+%5

"1970’S WERE MADE IN HONG KONG" Proto anarcho punks, The Epileptics, would soon become Flux of Pink Indians who would make one of the great British punk songs “Tube Disasters” and then one of the most abrasive LPs of all time, The Fucking Cunts Treat Us Like Pricks, they would then fuck it up by starting a record label and signing the fucking Sugarcubes. Cunts. Before all that they were a bunch of mealy mouthed politicos called The Epileptics who released a couple of snarly seveninches that railed against everything there was to rail against. They were pretty much full of shit, of course, and this tune is no exception- a brainless ramble about how the modern world is plastic, alienating and shit, seemingly because everything in 1979 was cheap, foreign and not made with good old British know-how like it was back in our dad’s day - sort of Anarchism with an Alf Garnett edge. Pointless rhetoric besides, this is a crackin’ slice of punky wunky stuff. Crass drummer Penny Rimbaud is on board to do his hyperkinetic uberbeat, the guitar has just the right level of distorto fun dialled in, great punky stringbean bass lopes along and neat, shouted streetpunk vocals about “Plastic Crap vat keeps goin wrong” because it woz made in “Ong Kong” top this ridiculously great song off. It ain’t pretty, it ain’t sophisticated, but I love it. Cartoon anarchism at it’s best.

The Nuns

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By Danger Coolidge

#PIWU /E&GVJ EVIL E M PI R E

D M Re c o rds (1 9 9 3 )

I

s he joking, or isn’t he?

That’s the great and wondrous thing about delving into the tenebrous world of Angus McDeth.

You look at him and it’s like, “He’s gotta be fucking kidding, right?” In any sane universe you’d pick this guy as a satirist par excellence. But y’know, some metalheads are actually this pure in their expression of the lifestyle – the pentagram medallion, the bogan hairstyle, the denim vest, the Hetfield facial hair, the studded-wristband, the “up yours” attitude!

Maybe this dude’s for real?

Angus McDeth just appeared one day in the early nineties.

But he didn’t really appear. He never made an appearance anywhere. All that appeared were a few paid advertisements in various local metal publications for this unknown character, McDeth’s self-funded, self-produced, self-released albums, the first being ‘93’s Evil Empire.

From the isolation of Kelmscott near Perth, Western Australia, McDeth appeared to be building his own empire (an “evil” one at that) with no label support, no wordof-mouth publicity, and, at least as far as I know, no live

performances to push it along. This guy was a D.I.Y metaller who for some weird reason thought someone would care.

And I did. I was fascinated. I couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. And the fact that here I am, ten years later writing about him and I still can’t tell if he was serious or not, is testament to the genius of McDeth.

Unleashed in 1993 as the first release for McDeth’s own DM Records (cat # DM000111), Evil Empire is an undiscovered gem in the annals of Australian metal. Recorded at DM Studios (i.e. McDeth’s pad in Kelmscott), it was co-produced by JC Steer, who also engineered it, handled the “programming” duties, took the promo pics of the McDethmeister, and also dodgied up the cover art. Black Steel guitarist Jamie Page (“Appears courtesy of Mystery Music Ltd.”) played the awesome lead guitar and co-wrote two of the songs. Other than that, Evil Empire is all McDeth. He wrote it, arranged it, sang it, programmed the drum machine, played the guitar, bass and keyboards - he even did his own goddamn back-ups.

Kicking off (as all great metal epics should) with a demonic chant, “McDeth Chant” is one of the most hilariously uninspiring intros to a record you could ever imagine. It sounds like a pack of deadpan zombies forced against their will to repeat over and over again, “E-Vil, Em-Pire, E-Vil, EmPire, E-Vil, Em-Pire, E-Vil, Em-Pire, E-Vil, Em-Pire, E-Vil, EmPire…” A huge cheesy electronic drum intro brings everyone in, and it’s into the doomy, black metal-inspired “Fresh Corpse For The Reaper”, which sets the tone for the rest of the album with its bewitching bedroom-studio production.

McDeth does a killer Ozzy impersonation, heaps better than that Wolfmother bloke, and, though the music lacks punch

due to the electronic drums, unimaginative bassplaying and wishy-washy distorted guitars, there are certain passages that shine in spite of it all. The middle section of “Fresh Corpse For The Reaper” is amazing, topped off by a searing solo from Page, who stars on most tracks, his rip-and-tear style standing out above the flat-sounding rhythm parts.

“I Want It” is like flaccid Motörhead with lyrics just too dodgy to even be funny – the exception is the line, “Careful of the dress babe, wouldn’t want a mess babe.” After that comes the puffed-out chest rock ‘n’ roll stylings of “Street Fighter”, followed by the dark, chugging title track and its lyrical passages of pure gold. “I call upon you all around, I bring you close to me / I wanna make you tremble with pain and ecstasy / Come to me with all your love and I will show you hate / You’re in my evil empire we’re going through the gate.”

The short and sweet, “Unleash The Beast” is the second of the Page/McDeth compositions (the other being “Fresh Corpse For The Reaper”) and is the most divergent lyrically - less wordy and with a simpler structure. “Black Hammer” is a tale set in the days of yore about a murderous knight who basically just hunts down and slays every one he comes into contact with. “There’s no way to hide from him he can smell your blood, blood, blood!” informs McDeth. The six-minute bass-driven instrumental “Invocation” begins with another classic electronic drum roll intro that sounds like it could’ve come off a Chipmunks record, or maybe even Wesley Willis.

The song breaks down to nothing except flanged-out bass guitars trading licks left and right from speaker to speaker, then a single bass being finger-tapped as it’s panned across and back again. It’s a real trip dude.

“Too Late For Tears” has a lame emotive solo at the start which hints towards a ballad, but the song soon settles into McDeth’s typical riff patterns and vocal phrasing. A whopping great solo in the middle from Page has the same effect as every other one of his solos, and pretty soon we see a return of the “E-Vil Em-Pire, E-Vil Em-Pire…” of the “McDeth Chant (reprise)” which closes things out.

Angus McDeth is an unsung hero of WA metal. The WAMi Awards should have a special McDeth Award of Metallic Excellence every year and have Angus, wherever the fuck he may be, present it. If anyone knows how to get in touch with Angus McDeth or if you are indeed Angus McDeth himself please contact unbelievablybad@optusnet.com.au. We’ve got a few questions we’d like to ask, the first being where we can purchase the 1995 follow-up to Evil Empire, The Great Horned Beast.

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9*#6 %*1+%' *#8' 9' )16! PARACOCCIDIOIDOMICOSISAnswers by Rick Yocryt and/OR Kenneth B. Real of The Uhohs.

Vinyl OR cassette?

Can’t beat love doll vinyl, smooth and shexy.

Death OR castration?

And the gold medal for longest band name goes to…

Mexico! By Danger Coolidge.

Death, ‘cos I wanna go to hell and hang out with the hookers, porn stars and drug dealers. Heaven's for do-gooders.

Mint Pattie OR Golden Rough?

Cheese.

Burroughs OR Bukowski?

Burroughs.

OR

Metallica?

Megadeth Metallica, even if they are skirt-wearing pansies.

OR

Adolf Hitler Charles Manson?

Charlie, at least he had some great quotes: “If I was doin’ the murders there'd be none of youse left.” “In your minds, can’t you see I'm already free?”

OR

NME Sorbent 2-ply?

I prefer Time Off or Rave. There's nothing better than smearing your faeces across Ben Lee's smug face + NME's too expensive.

OR

Caravan camping?

Caravan all the way. Fuck sleeping in a tent.

OR

Barry Crocker Barry Manilow?

Mandy you came and you took... Yeah Manilow.

PROCTITISSARCOMUCOSIS IS NOT FUCKING DEAD… WE THINK

OR

Picnic Snickers?

The other night we were watching Caddyshack so we decided to get some Pollywaffles. Few hours later, after trying all the 7-11s and Night Owls in Brisbane, we're told, “They don’t make them anymore!” Cunts!

OR

Ivor Cutler Wesley Willis?

Bruce Willis.

OR

Fat Elvis?

Young Elvis Fat Elvis - he had all the drugs, schoolgirls in white panties, burgers and mind-warped mutterings.

OR

Birdman The Saints?

The Saints - they had trumpets.

OR

Beers Bongs?

Can we have both?

OR

Emo screamo?

Whichever has the girlie fans with the ripped stockings and tartan skirts, the music sounds the fucking same anyway, it’s all fucking shit!

Some people want to give me too much credit. Got an email today from someone who thought the name Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis from the metal band names bit in UB#2 was made up for piss-taking purposes.

Pretty flattering that someone thinks that I have that much imagination.

But Googling Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis reveals them to be a two-piece goregrind band from Queretaro, Mexico comprised of Infection Cutane And Sensation Genital on guitar/bass/vocals, and Ginecologic Cryptococcidioidomicosis on drums/vocals. They have two official releases to their (ridiculous) name so far, 2002’s Satyriasis and Nymphomania and a 2004 split with Japanese grinders Butcher ABC. See, I don’t need to make this kinda shit up.

The name Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis is a conglomerate of several different diseases: Paracoccidioidomycosis, a festering fungal infection of the skin and respiratory system; Proctitis, an inflammation of the rectal mucosa; and Sarcoma, a malignant tumor. Song titles such as “Necroexpulsion Cangrenosa Por Sindrome De Inmuno Deficiencia Adquirids” and “Uroporfirinogenodescarboxilasandome Y Postulandome Con Tu Orgasmia Hexaclorobencenosisticarial Sexo Traumante,” hint that these guys went to the Carcass school of lyric writing (Tijuana campus probably).

It’s unclear whether Paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis (try and say it three times real fast) still exists. But let’s just say that in this day and age when you type www.myspace.com/ paracoccidioidomicosisproctitissarcomucosis into your browser window and it turns up an Invalid Friend ID message, things aren’t looking good.

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aving pioneered the gore genre with Blood Feast in 1963 and Two-Thousand Maniacs in 1964, the highly successful partnership between Herschell Gordon Lewis and David F. Friedman would reach its conclusion before the completion of their next picture, 1965â&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Color Me Blood Red. For five years the pair â&#x20AC;&#x201C; with Lewis in the role of director and cameraman, and Friedman acting as producer and soundman - had utilized their combined flair for showmanship and advertising savvy to inject added life into their bargain basement film productions. Right off the bat they had produced a string of moneymaking nudist camp cuties like The Adventures Of Lucky Pierre (1961) and Boin-n-g! (1963), before offsetting their flesh flick operation with what turned out to be an even bigger moneyspinner than skin, gore.

Lewis/Friedman had a long and prosperous career ahead, however, a bad business deal in 1965 involving a shady Illinois drive-in theatre owner called Stanford Kohlberg led to a split between the pair. In the aftermath, Friedman took Color Me Blood Red to California for editing and spent the next twenty years smearing his grubby fingerprints over some absolute classics of trash such as The Erotic Adventures of Zorro (1971) and Ilsa: She Wolf Of The SS (1975). Lewis remained in Florida, where he spent the new few years churning out a bizarre mixed bag of flicks, from the redneck melodrama Moonshine Mountain (1964) to the repackaged anti-venereal disease film Sin, Suffer and Repent (1965) to the G-rated abomination The Magic Land Of Mother Goose (1967).

For thirty-seven years Color Me Blood Red stood as the last picture to bear both the names Lewis and Friedman - which was a shame considering the film is easily the least vital of the three that form the â&#x20AC;&#x153;Blood Trilogyâ&#x20AC;?. Then, in 2002, the veterans were unexpectedly reunited once again for Lewisâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; triumphant comeback film, Blood Feast 2: All You Can Eat. Here is Part Three of my never-ending interview with Herschell Gordon Lewisâ&#x20AC;Ś Last issue you mentioned a Two-Thousand Maniacs reunion that was going to be filmed for a documentary by Jim Maslon of Something Weird Video, how did that turn out?

That happened last year; that was fabulous. Jimmy Maslon restaged the entry into St. Cloud, Florida, exactly the same as the start of Two-Thousand Maniacs. He had Dave Friedman and me in an old red convertible that matched the one the young people drove into town in in the original movie. We drove down the main street of St. Cloud, and to my total astonishment it had not changed. I had thought that because it was so close to the Disney Empire that it would have been updated and upgraded and made plastic and Everyone's a bloody critic! (Color Me Blood Red)

tjyuffo

BREAKING HG NEWS

In UB#2, Herschell explained the concept behind what he hoped would be his next movie, Grim Fairytales. On the 1st of March this year it moved a step closer to becoming a reality with the announcement that Herschell had entered a deal with Clearwater, Florida company Film State 51. â&#x20AC;&#x153;Mr. Lewis is a cinematic pioneer and horror legend, whose work is more relevant than ever before,â&#x20AC;? said Film State 51 president Andrew Allan. â&#x20AC;&#x153;His film legacy continues to grow - in both popularity and notoriety - and the world is on the verge of a major Herschell Gordon Lewis renaissance.â&#x20AC;?

In addition to the greenlighting of Grim Fairytales came news of a second full-length feature, Back In Blood: Revenge Of The Gore-Crazed Maniacs. An all-new film featuring Herschellâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s biggest homicidal maniacs, Back In Blood brings together Fuad Ramses from Blood Feast, Adam Sorg from Color Me Blood Red, Montag the Magnificent from Wizard Of Gore, and Rodney and Granny Pringle from The Gruesome Twosome in a diabolical plot of world domination. â&#x20AC;&#x153;Back In Blood will be a dream come true for my fans,â&#x20AC;? said Herschell. â&#x20AC;&#x153;To see my beloved super-villains teamed up in such an ingenious story pleases me to no end. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll be a wonderfully horrific addition to the legacy.â&#x20AC;?

Both projects are expected to commence production this year.

steel â&#x20AC;&#x201C; it wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t. It was still St. Cloud. So Jim had the streets lined with people waving flags. Of course, many of the people there werenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t there when we shot the original, you wouldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t expect people to stay there for forty years. He had someone dressed as the Mayor to greet us as we came down the street, he shot it with four cameras, it was very impressive. So after we had driven down the main street of St. Cloud we went into that hotel, the same hotel we had stayed in before, the only difference is that now they have a much more contemporary telephone system in there. We shot some interviews and so forth in one of the rooms there. And then, for the people of St. Cloud, [Jim] had rented an auditorium for the afternoon to show the original movie. So altogether it was certainly an exhilarating experience.

What did the townsfolk of St. Cloud think of the film?

Well, of course they were very gracious, so itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s hard to tell. I'd like to think they enjoyed it. They claimed they enjoyed it, and I wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t going to argue that point with them.

Last issue we discussed Two-Thousand Maniacs at length so Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m keen to follow on from that by talking about the close of the â&#x20AC;&#x153;Blood Trilogyâ&#x20AC;?, Color Me Blood Red. Those were the three movies I made with Dave Friedman. We started with Blood Feast, we continued with Two-Thousand Maniacs, and that group of movies ended with Color Me Blood Red. Dave and I broke up our partnership at that point â&#x20AC;&#x201C; temporarily I guess because it was put back together over thirty-five years later. So I went on to make more of those films and Dave went out to California to shoot a different kind of movie. I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know if you know or even care what happened there. If you like, Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll tell you the history of it.

coming in. So the monies from Blood Feast and Two-Thousand Maniacs would go into an account and then the bank would audit that account and then decide if it was worth them putting up the money to form a permanent production company. Well, months and months later after nothing had happened I ran into one of the officers of that bank, it was called the Exchange Bank. I asked what was happening and he said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re not going ahead with that, Kohlberg told us forget it.â&#x20AC;? At that point the rest of us sued Kohlberg because he had put our money into an account that only he could get at. So the three of us sued Kohlberg and to fund that Dave and I decided we needed to make another movie.

We were cutting Color me Blood Red but there was no money there. So thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s when we decided to make Moonshine Mountain (1964). But we went into pre-production on Moonshine Mountain and Dave disappeared, he had simply vanished, I had no idea what had happened to him, he was gone. I later learned that he had settled unilaterally with Kohlberg and moved to California. He told me years later that he had been too embarrassed to call me. Well, here I was in pre-production of a movie and thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s no money coming in. Fortunately for me one of my distributors advanced me some money to make the movie and Moonshine Mountain literally supported me for two years while I pursued the lawsuit against Kohlberg. About a month later, Sid Reich died. His children wanted nothing to do with the film business, didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t want to be associated with it or anybody in it. So in exchange for one dollar they dismissed their suit against Kohlberg. That left me as the sole plaintiff and it was at least two years later that I finally, in disgust at myself, reached an agreement with Kohlberg and got out. But during the period in which this happened I refused to cut Color Me Blood Red. As I think youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re aware, I scored the first two pictures, and I certainly wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t going to do that again so Dave scored the film with canned music. I felt the movie suffered because of that, but thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s only an opinion. Incidentally, the fella who edited a lot of these films was called Bob Sinise, who is the father of the actor Gary Sinise. Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s how far back in history we go. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m a historical artifact.

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Sure!

All right, we had four partners who made those three movies. Dave Friedman was one, another was this fella named Sidney Reich, he pronounced it â&#x20AC;&#x153;Reachâ&#x20AC;? - it shouldâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve been Reich! He was a businessman, a manufacturer working out of a town called Rochester, New York, which had nothing to do with anything, but Reich had had business dealings prior with the third partner, a fella named Stanford Kohlberg, K-o-h-l-b-e-r-g. And I was the fourth partner. We were making these movies and Kohlberg - who owned some theatres in the Chicago area and I will tell you now is, in my opinion, one of the great scoundrels of the twentieth century - he said that he had made an arrangement with a bank to fund an ongoing film company. Now, you can imagine how enthusiastic the rest of us were about that notion. He said the only condition the bank had for committing to it was that they wanted to see how the monies were coming in; and the monies were

Youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re also a very forgiving man.

Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll tell you what happened. I ran into Dave Friedman at a theatre ownersâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; convention, this must be five or six years later. When I saw him, I looked at him and he burst into tears and immediately we made up our friendship and weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve been close friends ever since. Dave is slightly older than me and he is failing these days, his eyesight has recently gone and he has had to discontinue his web presence because of his eyesight. Heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s got macular degeneration, he canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t see the screen, and his hearing is failing too. But his sense of humour remains in tact.

Talk about suffering for your art! (Color Me Blood Red)

That's a shame to hear; he was always such a huge personality.

Oh there’s only one of him. So we reunited on Blood Feast 2 (2002), even though that was not the script either one of us would’ve chosen, and it wasn’t the production team either one of us would’ve chosen; we were together again.

With Color Me Blood Red did you feel you had to top the production of Blood Feast and Two-Thousand Maniacs, because it’s the most normal, or certainly the least gratuitous of your horror pictures.

We were in a period where many theatres said to us, “If you were to give us a slightly different approach, we will play this picture. We will not play a picture that has the rawness of Blood Feast or the openness of Two-Thousand Maniacs.” I didn’t agree with that, by the way. So this picture, we planned to help expand the universe of theatres that would play our kind of picture. There was more attention to acting paid in that movie for instance.

Why did you go with the very intense Don Joseph in the lead?

The lead actor in Color Me Blood, his actual name was Gordon Oas-heim, Oa-s-hyphen-h-e-i-m. He used the name Don Joseph due to the fact that he was a signatory of the Screen Actors Guild and we were not subscribers. But here’s a funny story about that. Gordon Oas-heim as Don Joseph played a character in Color Me Blood Red called Adam Sorg. In the production of Moonshine Mountain I called on him again to play a role, he was the evil sheriff in Moonshine Mountain. And what name did he use for his screen credit: Adam Sorg.

From what I understand that guy was a few sandwiches short of a picnic.

He was a madman. He was an accomplished actor, certainly, but in my opinion he was a wild man. On the set of Moonshine Mountain he eventually imploded. We shot Moonshine Mountain in a small town in a quite rural area. If you know the American south, especially as it was forty years ago, the attitude was not as tolerant as it is today.

For a start there were all these crazy film people in town so that was bad enough, but then there was this one actor who was screaming and swearing and strutting around

the town with curse word out of his mouth and eventually he was arrested. And they would not let him out of gaol that night. In fact, when I went down there to get him out the fella there said, “Ya’ll wanna get in here with him?” The next morning we got him out and we all got out of town. I’ve got no idea if Gordon Oas-heim is still alive, but he was certainly an excellent actor. Now, the girl he kills in the film, his girlfriend, was a young actress named Elyn Warner and she was as fine and cooperative as anybody could be. A very serious and dedicated actress, in fact, it was embarrassing that someone of that caliber was in my movie. She took it very seriously and none of the rest of us did.

More than any of your films, Color Me Blood Red seemed like an attempt to be taken seriously - which I would never accuse you of by the way - but by your standards it’s quite tame.

Yes it is, it is. As I said, I refused to have anything to do with the cutting of that movie. I’m not denying it; I’m simply explaining things to you, why it doesn’t quite have the same panache that the previous two have, or some of the following movies have such as The Gore Gore Girls (1974) or She-Devils On Wheels (1968). Now, about a week ago I had an email from Jim Maslon telling me that there is a team in California somewhere who are remaking The Wizard Of Gore (1970) with what I’m told is a respectable budget. That’s not playing the game properly. You’re not meant to make these movies with a respectable budget.

I can see how The Wizard Of Gore would lend itself to all kinds of interpretation; the original is so sparse.

I have no problem with that one. I did not enjoy Two-Thousand Maniacs being remade [2001 Maniacs (2004)]. But The Wizard Of Gore I’ve always felt should be remade.

Thanks for the insights Herschell and see you next issue for more of our never-ending interview.

An endless interview, I hope it can work out that way; I can stay alive longer.

Painting is such a dying art (Color Me Blood Red)

REVIEW

COLOR ME BLOOD RED (1965)

A

mateur artist Adam Sorg (played ever-so intensely

by Gordon Oas-heim under the alias Don Joseph) is like that really weird guy you used to go to high school with. You know, the intense, introverted weird geek who girls don’t even talk to and who you just know is gonna go postal one of these days?

Pilfering elements of Roger Corman’s 1959 B-grade classic A Bucket Of Blood, Color Me Blood Red follows the adventures of the brooding Sorg as he attempts to impress the local critic, Gregorovich (William Harris), who disses one of his paintings. Pissed off and determined to wow the critic, Sorg soon finds divine inspiration in a new shade of red when his girlfriend, Gigi (Elyn Warner), cuts her finger on a picture frame and bleeds onto the blank canvas.

Reinvigorated but unable to convince his missus to give him any more blood, Sorg begins slicing his own fingers open and splashing claret across the canvas, but after a while he suffers severe hemoglobin shortages and passes out on the lounge.

Necessity is the mother of invention, and Gigi is a

fjhiuffo

nagging fucking hag at times, so within seconds of waking from his coma, Sorg kills two birds with one stone by stabbing a scalpel into her eye then rubbing her dead bloodied face all over his canvas.

Sorg sufficiently impresses the critic Gregorovich, which spurs him on to seek out fresh supplies of his favourite new color. While he is busy attempting to refill his palette, a dodgy beach party movie subplot is “unfolding” (read: going absolutely nowhere) involving two annoying teenagers, April Carter (Candi Conder) and her wooden spray-on-haired boyfriend Rolf (Jerome Eden), and two utterly unremarkable friends.

The plotlines converge after Sorg spies April and gets the idea she would look better smeared on a gallery wall than frolicking unconvincingly in the water with her impotent

cheesehead of a boyfriend. But just as he’s about to deliver a hard and fast axe attack to April’s skull, Rolf bumbles in, picks up a shotgun (conveniently left lying fully loaded on the mantelpiece), and puts the tortured artist out of his misery with a double-barrel blast to the face.

Though tamer than the average HG Lewis effort with a disappointingly low body count, the main ingredient Color Me Blood Red seems to lack (aside from the blood and the guts) is a sense of fun.

Warwick Gilbert back in the day

T

In March, members and friends of legendary Australian rock group Radio Birdman held a “Rock’n’Roll Art Exhibition” at a boutique gallery in Sydney’s leafy, upper class Double Bay. UNBELIEVABLY Bad checked it out … By Angelica Von Helle.

ime has elevated Radio Birdman to the status of fine art. Geographically it isn’t far from The Oxford Fun House to Double Bay’s La banca dell'Arte Gallery, but philosophically they seem worlds apart. Radio Birdman is about pushing against the status quo, while the role of a commercial art gallery is about selling superiority and elitism. But that’s not to say they don’t deserve their place in the art world.

The potent imagery of Radio Birdman reverberates with the same intensity as their music and they have achieved a longevity and place in the Australian cultural zeitgeist which warrants examination. The simplicity and strength of Warwick Gilbert’s seminal logo works on the mind in the same way as the Nazi imagery that it is often wrongfully compared too. It is slap in the face recognizable and flashes up an immediate aura and mind-set that mentally primes you for the music. And of all the artwork displayed in the gallery there is none that so finely distills the power of Birdman’s presence than that logo. Indeed, many of the artworks incorporate the logo and the eye is sucked towards it like a vacuum. It speaks the essence of Radio Birdman loud and clear, making the rest seem slightly superfluous.

Ex-bassist Gilbert’s work is so far in advance of the other band members that I almost wonder why they would agree to be exhibited alongside him, as comparisons will obviously be unfavourable. For example, Deniz Tek shows a hitherto unknown love for the natural world in a simply executed painting of a magpie (or some kind of bird). But to be fair, Gilbert is an artist by trade and guitarist Dr. Deniz Tek did “arrive at art as a means of relaxation and self-expression.”

The art of Gilbert cannot be defined by a particular style or genre. He has dabbled with Chinese pen and ink, sketched cartoon caricatures and even paid homage to the wildly divergent styles of hot-rodder Ed “Big Daddy” Roth and Spanish surrealist Miro. His skill for characterization surely stems from his professional life as an animator. He has kidnapped the essence of his bandmates in a few simple lines – Chris Masuak (guitar) is repeatedly depicted as a round bald head in dark glasses and a vest, while Rob Younger (vocals), interestingly, appears more than once with his mouth sewn shut by crude Frankenstein-like stitches (or perhaps Gilbert is merely pointing out that the singer hasn’t aged so well?).

Not all the artworks are by band members. Paul Gearside has painted a fantasy nostalgia of the Oxford Fun House days. A searchlight illuminates the sky with that omnipresent Birdman symbol (a la Batman) as the cartoon-like crowd spills out onto the footpath. The picture tells a story of the time and the importance of the venue, but incongruously brightly. Keyboardist Pip Hoyle’s wife, Sally Hoyle, displays two ceramic plates inspired by the Radio Birdman phenomenon. In the trademark red and black they are striking and graphic. Perhaps she should look into Wedgewood manufacturing them as a limited edition Birdman Dinner Set now that some of the original fans are middle aged and cashed up? And a show of this nature is bound to bring out the fans with their wallets opened. Most of the works appear with a discreet little sticker next to them advertising the price. Many of Gilbert’s works are dated from 2005 or even this year, which invites one to wonder whether they were simply dashed out with the intent of making some cash. Would you blame him? There were also posters and limited edition photo reprints available for a more modest price.

Perhaps the biggest draw card for fans is the opportunity to maintain a link to the past – to buy back just a taste of the excitement that radiated from the band. A friend and I witnessed one hard-core fan with a large leg tattoo of the Birdman symbol buying up big on the memorabilia. His face visibly lit up and he angled his tatt into its most flattering position when he saw a silver haired Deniz Tek walk behind the counter near the entrance to the gallery. “How’s it going?” the fan enthused. “Pretty good,” monotoned Tek as he turned his head to other matters – thus killing the very magic that this show was supposed to re-ignite. Perhaps it would have been best to keep cranky Dr. Tek off the floor and let the memories stay young and freshly inked forever?

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ade in Mexico’s debut Zodiac Zoo is a cavalcade of belligerent noise and nihilistic misfortune. At its most appealing it’s hideously abrasive and uninviting, yet at its most repulsive it’s still so attractive and reminiscent of New York circa 1978 where noise rock/no wave enjoyed its brief but very inspirational heyday.

The album is a schizophrenic stumble through a psychedelic circus.

Experimental isn’t strong enough a word, providing merely a draft for Made in Mexico’s political, musical and artistic breadth of freedom.

“We play for the people who need us and get us,” begins guitarist Jeff Schneider. “I can tell you that we are not for shallow hipsters, they hate us anyway – and I love that they hate us, I actively enjoy bumming them out sometimes. I can only hope that they run home and listen to David Bowie afterwards, and then we are both happy.”

At its core, Made In Mexico is an amalgam of the contorted sounds of the members previous bands, be it the psychedelic freak-out of LaMachine or most notably Jeff’s previous outfit Arab On Radar. Never heard AOR? Well, a quick history lesson if I may...

Firstly Jeff, I’d like to say what a great pleasure it is to be able to chat to you. Arab On Radar helped change the way I thought of music, and Made in Mexico is continuing to stoke that fire.

Thanks man, I am psyched that you like the Made in Mexico stuff. Not too many folks get it and it’s out of style right now, at least on earth as far as I can tell. But, I guess it is more about the bigger picture and contributing to something like those who came before and maybe some that came after, you know?

Who formed the band?

Rebecca (Mitchell – vocals) formed this band. She knew me from Arab On Radar and she also knew Jon (Loper – bass) and Dare (Matheson – drums) who were in a band called La Machine. Basically we all organized around her.

Dare, Jon and I had played together before but the band really began when Rebecca started singing, screaming and performing with us.

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Forming around 1994, the Providence, Rhode Island quartet’s music was characterised by dissonant screeching guitars, pounding drums and nasal, blasphemous vocals. Their supreme boast (or at least the way I see it) was that they were making music truly as a shelter for those disillusioned and seeking musical redefinition. These purveyors of the noise rock experimental realm folded sometime around 2002 due to irreconcilable internal issues, leaving a number of legendary albums and even more legendary antics in their wake. Though once a group, the four individuals were left to their own devices. The underground was left in desperation, questioning what was to ensue. This in turn lead to what Weasel Walter, the legendary no wave, free jazz, all round freak-out figurehead, dubbed, “The post Arab On Radar Sweepstakes!!” …It was all unbelievably exciting.

Then, in October 2005, Made in Mexico hit with Zodiac Zoo, and it just got better. Having not heard an album all last year (and well into this year) that deserved to even occupy the air surrounding Zodiac Zoo, and being a colossal fan of Jeff’s previous band, I was UNBELIEVABLY overjoyed to be able to talk with him about all things Made In Mexico.

How did the four of you meet?

Rebecca and I met at a library. I met Dare way back in the days of old when he was in a band called the Laurels and I was in AOR and we played in Cleveland, Ohio at a 400 capacity club to one guy sitting in a lawn chair in the middle. We did play but it was an exercise in humility. Jon dated and married my former roommate, Jennifer Widden; we met under those circumstances, he holding flowers for her in a suit, me in my underwear, drinking and making fun of him in front of her. It was a loving start to a new friendship.

Why did the band form?

It is so hard not to answer this in a sarcastic way...

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We formed to bring to light some aspects of music that have been overlooked and under-appreciated. We all have played for a long time and we felt we had more to contribute to music. Additionally, it seemed to us that the bands out there were good, but not really aligned with the type of magical stuff we think makes up a good band. So DIY ethics made us react in the best way one can given the circumstances, by just beginning to do what you think should be done.

What does “The Winner of Post Arab On Radar Sweepstakes” mean?

The phrase “Winner of the Arab On Radar sweepstakes” is a phrase coined by the guru of weird music Weasel Walter of The Flying Luttenbachers. There were three bands that rose from the ashes of Arab On Radar; The Chinese Stars who began the race first, Athletic Automaton who waited, honed their sound and then began running, and Made in Mexico - us - who waited until we were what we wanted to be before making an album. I think Weasel was expressing his opinion that we were the band he enjoyed listening to most if given a choice of all three. That is hearsay, so I suppose that question should be directed to him.

Although, when Weasel weighs in I certainly value his opinion, because he is a listener not a groupie and I don’t think he would compliment our music on any terms other than musical.

Are you fed up with all the Arab On Radar talk that surrounds the band?

I relate to the talk about AOR almost

They asked us to do it. We said yes. It is not as glorious as it may seem. There was a contest in Boston, Massachusetts that allowed just about anyone to hop on that game. If you have played it, there are few bands like us on it; I’ll leave it at that. It has taken our song into many a house that it would have never been in and I hope all the weed-heads out there play it daily.

like if someone were to talk about my ex-wife, if I had an ex-wife, dig?

I think it is okay to talk about it. I just hope people make the connection that Made in Mexico is its own thing, my input is consistent with the input I provided in AOR but the rest is other people, on other trips, playing other styles honed over years of building their craft.

Is there a meaning behind the name Made In Mexico?

Made in Mexico, to me, is a subtle hint that the revolution will begin in Mexico. Examining the current social climate in North America I would say the key word there is “cynical”. In Mexico and Latina America generally, the equation is flipped. Over there people have guts, consciousness and Made In Mexico: (LtoR) Jeff Schneider, Dare the self-esteem to change things.

Matheson, Jon Loper, Rebecca Mitchell Here in the twilight zone all I can do is aspire to play music that might capture just a little bit of that spirit - something bold, something revolutionary in spirit, not just repackaged bullshit. So Mexico has a special place in my heart. Ask me 1998: Arab On Radar - Queen Hygiene II this tomorrow and the answer might be different though.

1999: Arab On Radar - Rough Day at the Orifice 2000: Arab On Radar - Soak the Saddle Describe Made In Mexico for someone who has never 2000: Arab On Radar - Split 7” w/ The Locust heard it before?

2001: Arab On Radar - Yahweh Or The Highway Made in Mexico is revolutionary music building on the 2001: Arab On Radar - Split 10” w/ Oxes blueprints of the seventies no-wave music from New York, 2002: Arab On Radar - Split 7” w/ Kid Commando assorted freak-out jazz, meaningfulness of bands like early 2003: Arab On Radar - The Stolen Singles Public Image Limited, some classic rock, and in solidarity 2004: Made in Mexico - Split EP w/ Athletic Automaton with bands who are bold enough to go their own way and 2005: Made In Mexico - Zodiac Zoo stick to that way and develop it to a level of satisfaction 2006: Made in Mexico - Split EP w/ Athletic Automaton for themselves and others. The last thing I mentioned, I [re-issue] believe, if you are a listener, you can just hear, be it The Band’s Music From Big Pink or the most insane Black Dice noise madness. I am trying to answer these, I loath the cop-outs many bands provide when asked, so... the best way to get us is to listen to the music, honestly.

JEFF SCHNEIDER DISCOGRAPHY

What’s the best way to write a Made In Mexico song?

The best way to write a Made In Mexico song is to first develop an independent mindset about music. That can only be done with people who want true alternatives to the status quo. Once found, those people do not need any particular musical prowess, no theory, and don’t even have to have touched any instrument ever. You begin by referencing things you like, to have a baseline of agreement and then just let it go, jam and see what happens. Tape everything. Listen to the tape, select parts that you think are “rockin” and then put the parts together to make a “song”. Weed out the parts that just don’t flow and you have a Made In Mexico song. Duct tape your guitar for better results.

What’s the best way to listen to a Made In Mexico song?

I am not going to say stoned. You can listen to Made in Mexico with headphones once or twice, then if there is a track you think should be broadcasted at parties or social gatherings, or discussion groups then it can be done there also. I guess anywhere that is a liberated music zone is fine. I usually hear Made in Mexico being played while a band is setting up at a show, it comes on to add credibility and “underground points” usually to a band who goes up and blares the same Dead Kennedy’s song in my face with alternate lyrics. Sad really, they don’t want to embrace us rather just piggy-back off of whatever it is people like about us, they do not know what that is but they want it, and they are welcomed in doing that.

Is there a conscience effort to construct a unique sound in the band or do you just throw everything in and see what comes out?

We are working on a sound. But we like so much different music it might sound a little disjointed. I have tried to keep it all on the same page before, so to speak.

Like some Arab On Radar albums are pretty much in the same zone - Soak the Saddle for example. Now it is more about doing what we want song to song. So we have a new song, unrecorded, that is really Afro-Cuban sounding... it is Slayer’s “Reign in Blood” meets Paul Simon’s “One Trick Pony”. But sure, we go to all sorts of realms and planets.

Where do you see yourselves in relation to current musical trends or scenes?

I think we are contributing to the new no-wave scene, which I see as unnamed, it is not connected to the ‘78 thing... personally I hope it remains ambiguous and disorganized, that way it will be more difficult to co-opt and to eventually dismiss en masse as many scenes have been; Punk for instance.

How did your song “Farewell Myth” End up on the Playstation game Guitar Hero?

And I hear there’s been a not so pleasant response to the song?

Yeah some kids didn’t like it.

Guitar Hero is all about the solos, because people get real good that the game; our song is not as much of a challenge, my riff is pretty basic on that song.

When it comes to reviews or criticisms, has there been anything said about Zodiac Zoo that has totally thrown you?

I read reviews very seriously and it only shakes me if someone proves that they do have some taste and just don’t like our music on an evidence-based level. That hurts. But for 99.9% of the reviews that I dislike, the paper quickly becomes nothing more than something I place my cat’s food dish and water bowl on, and when she spills it then it becomes garbage.

What’s the best lyric on the Zodiac Zoo album?

My favorite lyric is, “We’re keeping the rich and fat, rich and fat.” Because it is true.

Are you on tour at the moment?

We are not on tour but we are doing some great shows soon. We are playing in Montreal with AIDS Wolf and the headliner of the show that particular night is the famous, obscure and highly respected - by us - Nihilist Spasm Band. Scroogle it if you’d like details, very interesting folks. We plan on touring soon, I have actually been talking with a chap from Israel who might be able to book us if we can get there, and wouldn’t that be amazing? Tel Aviv and Jerusalem!!

What are some of the great bands you have seen lately, or records you’ve listened to?

The last great band I saw was High On Fire again recently, that was amazing - Matt Pike is a guitar hero for sure. Albums: Lighting Bolt’s Hypermagic Mountain is really impressing me. I love AIDS Wolf’s For Lovvvvers Only... album, very nice. Athletic Automaton’s 5 Days in Africa is some fucked listening. I must add that Love’s Forever Changes is an album I cannot stop listening to - there is a work of genius.

Recommend me some excellent bands to check out?

If you have not heard of the USA Is A Monster, listen to Wohaw or Tasheyana Compost both out on Load Records... that is sick stuff. Ovo’s Miastenia album on Load also.

Wizardzz upcoming album on Load should be amazing.

Any plans of an Australian visit soon?

If any rich person, art scholarship university, any philanthropic agency, Nick Cave’s Fund for Musical Endowment or socialist cadres from Australia want to support and fund a tour by Made In Mexico to come there, we will do it. Just kidding, it is not in the cards right now mate, I am sorry. We are struggling to just stay a band economically. I will spare you the starving artist sob stories.

Anything finally you’d like to add?

The only other thing I would like to add is join the Socialist Alternative in Australia, everyone there should.

Then liberate North America please.

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Text & Photos by Dianne West.

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ames, Luke B, Luke H and Michael are the guys in high school who spent every lunch break arguing about who had the best VHS tape of Rage. Apparently Michael (drummer) has one that goes from Peter Andre to “Teen Spirit”. They made up a gang that had initiation processes such as eating grass, digging up sprinklers and getting beat-up in a dark room. James, Luke B, Luke H and Michael never had to do these things ‘coz they started the gang. And though many tried, nobody ever qualified to join.

Smashing Pumpkins broke up. Beverly Hills 90210 was axed. Things were getting boring. Then one day they combined their gang with their obsession with Rage, and Violent Soho was born.

They may be out of high school now, but half of them still live with their parents. They still proudly reside in the bogan Queensland postcode of 4122. They still have the same girlfriends and will eagerly show you videophone footage of each other half naked. They're still obsessed with grunge, cardigans and Rage. Now with the recent release of their debut EP, Pigs and TV, the time has finally come for Violent Soho to make their very own film clip.

And what could sum the band up more than a house-party film clip??

Violent Soho guitarist James Tidswell has move out of home. He put his hand up to host the party on the condition that it was more like a film clip shoot of a party, than a party-party.

Then an excited fan posted the party address along with "free pizza and beer!!" on the band's MySpace page. The Violent Soho guys are too busy eating microwave dinners and digging BMX jumps in their backyard to even own a computer, so before they knew it PARTY!!-texts were flying around Brisbane faster than racist remarks in Bondi.

When they heard the party announced on Four Triple Zed FM they "secretly" postponed it for a week, hoping that would fool everyone. I don't think it fooled anyone ‘coz at 8pm on Friday March 24th James' garage was already overflowing with kids. The lights were set. The amps were hot. The director was failing to get anyone's attention as she read out a list of activities people could volunteer to do in the clip - including making out on the bonet of a car, passing out, swinging on the clothesline, flashing boobs, skidding down the Slip ‘N’ Slide in underpants and landing in a kiddy pool, doing beer bongs, weed bongs, lighting stuff on fire, pissing on a fence... In the end it didn't matter that no one was paying attention ‘coz everyone just started partying out of control and all these things happened anyway. The crew just ran around filming it all.

James' place got trashed. I took a few photos. The band played, and yes, I'm the girl vomiting on herself in the crowd.

The making of soho’s Violent “ bombs Over

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We leave the pub to head up to the venue and get organised for the night’s party, the first of “The Moody Prowl Tour”. Tonight, our good-selves and those bad boys of the underarm scene, Further, are playing with The Whats. The Whats are the ugliest two thirds of Screamfeeder. Tim, the tall one from The Whats, is like a sort of inkle to us, so we show him bits of our bodies and ask him to guess what they are. He’s always right! We wander off giggling to the bar to start on the whiskeys.

At the bar, amongst the four B’s (including Daui the Snake), we discuss what this tour is actually about. It turns out it’s about the following: • Psychkodelics • Puppies • Freedom.

Un, who is new to the band (and only a lily monk), looks a little confused but still manages to giggle and ask for more CLACKA. For this tour we have been told to wear white, so we had some folks down on that road (at the sew-house) make us up some pretty skirts, muscleman tee-shirts, booties and protective arm gear to really drive home the freedom message. They look rill pretty. Anyway Buddy,

By Andrew Houston.

al-hashist (Rudi) Matt Rudas: Guitar and voc ) (Un s ma Dra : nko Nicholai Da answers like no other (Daui) and tar Gui ll: tta Nu ren Dar and suggestions (Hootie) Andrew Houston: Bash glets (Tarawa) Matt Coyte: Guitar and sin es (Leviathan) ngl spa Leo Coyte: Guitar and ng Dong) (Da s ma Dra : THA Darren FUR wers (Cabbage Patch Kid) ans Andy Cowland: Bash and

So it’s off to Murder-ville for a totally fuckin’ murderous evening of murder and whatnot. We love this city. And we love its gnome-like murderous inhabitants. In the very room

Pic: Mel Gathercole

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he first morning starts like all the others for the Tucker B’s; up at four am, in the middle of the city, smoking daisy’s and kicking the wheels of a big black shiny wheel-house. We are waiting for our new girl-fences, Further, to arrive and pack all our equipment, TAKING GOOD CARE and doing it ALL SLOWLY. We go and get a pizza slice while they lift stuff.

They are real pretty boys, we all especially like the tall one, the one with buttons for eyes; the Cabbage Patch Kid. We are off to Brisbane this morning, the first day of our tour together. It’s such a long and devastating drive that we have spent about 440 dollars on what we’ll call “CLACKA” to ease the pain and make the wheel-house sway like a drunken bird. We head north and get dumber and dumber with each colicky-clack.

The first show is at The Troubadour in Brisbane’s central war zone known only as the “Valley”. The Valley is a nightspot like no other, a sizzling blemish on an otherwise healthy Australian city. We love it like a mother. We have been bashed, drugged and made much more beautiful here. We drive as fast as we can to get there; which is fuckin’ fast mate.

We reach Brisbane in four hours, Further have been talking to each other and having a “NICE TIME” so they get there much later. When the “slow parade” finally approaches we have been in the pub trying to get drunk for six hours. Daui has drunk the most and has taped his own legs together with gaffa tape. He is threatening to “LIVE LIKE A SNAKE” for the rest of the tour. We encourage him and give him some more CLACKA.

Well unbelievable, Un, Rudi and Miself all get part-time jobs this morning to help pay for the CLACKA that we bought last night. We get the sack pretty we quick, so we wander off to the pub. Tonight’s show is an All Ages party at a hall called the Albion Peace Hall; we are keen to cover it in “Disaster Sauce” and eat it all up. Instead of it being a chore it turns out wonderful, there are heaps of kids and a bunch of excellent bands. We play with Turnpike, The Rational Academy, Talkshow Boy and a groovy bunch of soft squirts called Tragic Athletic. It’s a great night, both we and those bad boys of the bunion world, Furtha, have great shows. We get a bunch of free booze, lots of cash money, and a good report card to show our mummies.

Of course, we head back to the Valley to see if we can meet any cop flesh. We do, and three of us get uncalculated in the local cop show-shop. We wash our rectal outlet stations due to a fear of the smell and wander to the van. Mr. Sun-orb is slowly rising in the easterly region of the lower wetness. So now-what then Buddy? We have a shower, brush all the teef up, get in the vam-man and head back to Sydney. We stop half way to fill the back seat with bricks and discipline a Labradoodle.

tonight is the first time we have worn them on stage.

We get up on stage and look out into the room. Beady Brisbane eyes stare back, and it looks like a tough crowd the Valley has spewed forth tonight. Rudi begins tonight’s proceedings by announcing that this tour is for FREEDOM before inviting the nice folks up to beat the living fuck out of Daui the Snake and to gently cuddle the rest of us. No one does, so we turn on each other, especially the Snake, who spends the entire show on the floor trying to bite my leg (through ma booties). This is our second time to Brisbane and it doesn’t quite seem ready for our high-boy freedom vibe.

Further have a similar fanny-head experience onstage to us; naturally, we both blame the crowd and the sound guy. Tarawa thinks that perhaps it is too warm for people to live there and their brains get infected with heat and they don’t wokie anymore because it is too hot for human brains to work in that sort of stupid heat. Tarawa, I am learning, does not know a lot of “stuff”, but he’s usually right when he pipes up with one of these RAZOR THEORIES.

that we are playing in tonight, last week, somebody got murdered really badly. I whisper this to The Cabbage Patch Kid and Leviathan as they wander on stage to sing their sing-songs. Their pits (all-sorts) get musty with fear, but myself and Un keep it up by yelling out, “Who’s yoooor knife wielding BAD-DAD you city-boy lickers?” throughout their show. When they come off stage, Duai falls to the floor and asks them if they had a good show. Those bad sick men of the stab scene, Further, say “YEH,” and Daui burns a ciggie into his knee and begins to cry cry cry.

We gather Daui up and tell him it’s time to play. Then he tries to cross his own eyes until he blacks out. He’s scared.

When I was a little manman, I was scared of Newcastle too.

We have to play tho’, it’s a local friend’s birthday and he’s in a very festive mood and will surely stab us if we don’t sing his favourite song. We set up, shoot up some gangbang, snort down some psyckodelics and we’re off to LaLa Land. We play like dragons who have found their princesses playing pokies; somewhat confused thanks mum.

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want to be good boys. The National Youths Satan “JJJ” is also recording it and The Annandale in Annandale (Annandale) is also filimying it for a DVD TV show.

Lucky-like some superhero dummie called “Matchbook Reekie” is there dolling out some superhero dummy wacky weed and bad advice which distracts the whole pub and reweaves our nerves.

Woops. Bands the size of ours don’t really do long runs of shows all at the same time, Buddy. When we do, like this Moody Prowl whoopla, it’s generally around Day 5 that the little caboose known as the “Tuckers” gets WONKY. A God-given ability to party to like hungry mongrels, coupled with the DUMB STRENTGH it takes to suspend any connection to rrrreality, generally results in us feeling a little mystified, confused, sore, boiled, tender, elevated, high-minded, exhausted, sapped, lessened and absolutely ON EDGE around Day 5. Woops, lost it.

God kiss The Instant for a mind scrambling set of instrumental audio-acid. It made our ears dribble the kind of goo not seen in these parts since former drama Tim Day’s (Broadfoot) feet melted in a bush fire. Rudi giggled excitedly and consumed more CLACKA all the way home.

Murder Town wins again.

We are home and we are all feeling pretty good about not having been stabbed or washed yet. Dang Dong has agreed to adopt Duai and provide him with an education. Dang Dong is the only one in Further (those bad boys of the bracket world), who counts with numbers. The others count in blinks. We are happy with this idea, Un especially, because his dog has been looking after Daui for the last six weeks.

Tonight’s show is at The Annandale in Annandale (Annandale). It’s our first proper show here and we really

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are the child demon spawns of Motorhead and Superchunk.

We woop it up from the side of stage and join them for a meathead version of “The Model” at the end of their set.

Then we beat the shit out of them, especially Tarawa who has been getting progressively cheekier as the Prowl has gained momentum. Tarawa is so giddy by the end of the show he is pouring alcohol over his body and being a bit of a weirdo. The Tucker B’s look after him for the rest of the evening and send him home butt naked on the first bus once the sun-orb rises.

Both ourselves and Furtha, those bad boys of the unwashed willy scene, have had a chance to sound check, which after eleventy years of being ROCK DIMS, we are are accepting as a good idea. Ourselves and Furtha (okay, just us) take a bunch of fine fine CLACKA and are both ready for KILLA SHOWS and TOTALLY HOT SETS. It all feels like sugar coated swill tonight. For once, feelings match actions and we both play wunnerful shows. We play like we mean to every night; really really well, thanks mum. It’s nice when it happens. Further are up last tonight and they play like they

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Pic: Mel Gathercole

Pic: Mel Gathercole The ‘Lade is somewhat of a spiritual hovel for us, we grew up and learned our habits in a similar hotbox: PERF. We have a steady crew of mongrels in the ‘Lade that take care of us and ensure that the ‘Lade is always a cheap and violent riot, just whatttt we need at this stage.

Overnight, on the way, we stopped the wheel-house at HAY, a piss-awful little town in the middle of our fine dissertfarm. I almost died in HAY. I went to get a slab of meat at the local pub, walked in, and this big dumb ugly bastard was just really happy and cool staring at my head like I was Gabrielle Gateau. Anyways Buddy, after a day in the wheel-house with Rudi and Daui (no longer a snake but now a DESERT DINGO), I was in a feisty mood. Rather than be made to feel like a galloper, I just smiled at him and said at his dumb head “WHASSUP?” He looked at me like I had just told him that his mummy was my “keep-at-home finger puppet.” When I realised the heaviness of what I had blurted, I ran. I got back and informed the others of the impending fists of fury and wedged a chair against the door. We styled it up safe inside the hottele for the rest of the night eating jerky and CLACKA. Anyways Buddy catch up: Tonight in the ‘Lade is a killer showboat, we palsy with a ‘Lade band called Straight To Video who gargle the right cobras. Further, those bad boys of the toe-muck scene, play superbly - they are fast becoming adults under our tutelage. Boo BIng. We palsy a fun show that is high on drama and DEVULGERING TRUFS about the freedom message: FREEDOM CAN ONLY COME THROUGH PUPPIES NOT CLACKA. The ‘Lade, we love you, we’ll be back soon. You ode us money you dirty dank.

Next time you are in the ‘Lade, you can sing that too (sea time shanty thanks butter-nuts). But for now, Buddy-Boy, we are in Melbourne. Vroom Vroom. Catch up: Un, our drama is dying. Duai, our dialyzing guitar god is burnt to a crispy.

Rudi, our flame thruway is dizzy. Me, the gum provider, is bleeding. This show tonight at the Rob Roy Hostel for bandos is gonna be quite a pony tail. Tonight, ourselves, and those bad boys of the panty line plume, FURTHA, are playing with Blacklevel Embassy (BLEEEE). BLEEEE are without one inch of doubt the tuffest muthafuckin’ band in this land. They are world’s testosterone that move on legs. Needless to say they absolutely built, mortgaged and sold off the night in tiny pieces. I imagines they pretty much kick the living shit out of everything they convent at. Wowzers Buddy.

After BLEEEE we float on up with our white butterfly dresses and feel somewhat foolish, but freedom is at stake and we have a simple job to do. We close our eyes and think of puppies. Further finish off the night and deliver bedtime with a hot wooded show that shook our hot pants to the kore. After Millburn it’s a long drive home, which is EXCACKLY TEN HOURS all the time. Un did all the driving on the way home, CLACKA was the theme tune. Lala La woodsman daisy.

Fermentable is a funny plate that we have never clicked with, despite our EARNEST efforts. Well, we were pleasantly surprised when some people arrived at the show. Furtah, those bad boys of the moist pocket scene, delivered once again. We are really proud of how they are progressing, on this their EDUKATIOBAL Tour with us; the Furtha Learners.

Praise must be leveled at this stage to Andy, the ONLY Adult Cabbage Kid (and the one we all have a crotch on), for being the only won who ever had any idea what was going on excakly during this whole tour.

We smashed the fuck out of everything on the stage tonight when we played; it was a lot of fun, mummy. We were drunk as skunks and we smashed stuff - sometimes pop songs and singing in key just isn’t enuff for The B’s, tough guy.

We are now just lips and eyeballs walking around, looking for somewhere to rest. Incept for Daui, he’s just dick and bones.

Perf is our hometown, so we have been staying (kinda tough guy) with our mummies. Tonight’s show we played with Benedict Moletta and The Tigers as well those bad boys of the dirt-lick scene, Furtha. I’m a little excited because Ben and The Tigers are two of my favourite ozzie ROCK ACTS. The Tigers are a devastating band and should really be more better known than they are. Everyone plays superbly and The Rosemount is near full when we float onto stage.

We play really well and get the crowd pumpkin and humpin. It’s very nice to play in Perf these days (it wasn’t always this way, Josephine). After the show we party hardy with a bunch of dear old friends’ right onto the next sun-orb shine rise and before we know it we are showing Furtha how to pack the van again. Everybody on this Moody Prowl Tour is very scared of Unbury.

With good reason (to be afraid of Unbury, Dummy), bands like the Tucker B’s just should not go to places like Unbury. Unbury people don’t like bands like ours, it’s pretty simple, some things are not worth the foolish effort. Tonight we play really really well (of course, Dimmy), in the crowd tonight (of course, Dimmy) are about ten normal people from Perf, they enjoy the show as much as anyone can in a town like Unbury…..

Tonight is a good set down back into normal life.

It’s very real, especially as our lips and eyeballs have absolutely taken over our faces. We consider food for the first time on the Moody Prowl, buy the paper, look at the sky, brush our teef, give Furtha a shy cuddle and smile the all knowing smiles of dumb idiots…

Wot fun.

Up real early for the drive to Melbourne today, boss (well akshully, boss, Rudi and I dint sleep. Woops.) BUT we (no shit bubba) wrote these lyrics ALL NIGHT:

Pic: Mel Gathercole

“Oh Adelaidehol!

Said the voice in the wire As it spat at your head Like spit on a fire Your best friends are liars Oh how you fucked me! Adelaidehol!

We’re sure that they are only, only little birdies Nightmare morning birdies, singing sweetly for the sun It is Adelaide six in the morning wooohaaa And we are only bending the law Annnnndddddd We know that they are only, only little birdies sun.”

Nightmare morning birdies, singing sweetly for the sun.

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The Drones. Fiona Kitschin interview

by Kaity Fox.

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ou haven’t heard the Drones? Are you insane? Go back to listening to The Grates you fucking sook!

There is one God. And The Drones be thy name.

Thursday 12th May, 2005 The Drones launched their second album, Wait Long By The River And The Bodies Of Your Enemies Will Float By, at Sydney nightclub Spectrum. My first ever Drones gig. I remember two things: 1. It knocked the wind out of me a lot more than I was willing to admit (I’m highly cynical of bands that are new to me, especially when they come with such high appraisal), and 2. Although the venue wasn’t empty, it certainly wasn’t packed.

Spectrum has a capacity of 300. There were maybe 100 there.

Just under a year later, on April Fool's Day 2006, The Drones headlined Sydney’s Annandale Hotel. They sold the place out. That’s around a 450-capacity venue. A weird show, or maybe just for me, I felt uncomfortable around the sudden abundance of Triple J-listening jocks where I could overhear comments like, “So, what are these guys like?” and “They won AMP man, like over Ben Lee AND Wolfmother.”

It’s comforting, however, that The Drones have managed to stay somewhat disconnected from their increased profile.

In 12 months, what has changed about this Melbourne band that spent the most of the last year touring Europe, the UK and US to make them suddenly more attractive? Well, some may say it’s because in March this year they were announced the winners of the inaugural Australian Music Prize. Others may argue it’s because of the band’s stubborn persistency with touring both in Australia and internationally gathering a small army of fans and positive press to match. But really it comes down to one fact that both music industry types and punters alike are seemingly willing to agree on: The Drones have changed Australian music.

I’m speaking to Drones bassist Fiona Kitschin in a dimly lit, stale beer/cigarette smelling pokie room filled with drunken old men.

We’re at Sydney’s Mandarin club, sitting in front of a computerized roulette table. She and her band mates, guitarist Rui Pereira and drummer Mike Noga are here to support Drones frontman, and her partner, Gareth Liddlard for his solo acoustic show before the band continue touring Australia with Dinosaur Jr. She seems exhausted yet pleased. She should be. With the announcement that the band won AMP just two days before also came the realisation that they’d won the $25,000 prize-money. But considering they’ve been touring for over a year now and thus haven’t been able to maintain stable jobs or steady incomes, the cash is going to be spent quite modestly.

“Well, we’re going to play All Tomorrow’s Parties (UK) and another festival in Spain called the Primavera Sound Festival,” explains Fiona, “So it’ll probably be going towards airfares over there. I know it sounds like heaps but it just goes like that - it’s so expensive touring and shit.”

Despite touring successfully overseas several times in the past few years - a decision Fiona says was taken because “Australia’s had our love for six years. We need to go out and earn some money and do some more things” - not everything has been smooth sailing. In October of last year the band went on a tour of the UK with American art noise kids Deerhoof.

“Their fans didn’t take us too well,” Fiona laughs. “Scotland was good, they loved us a lot more after we got out of England, but as a whole the UK was a bit meh. They’re kinda arseholes in England, they’re really mean spirited.”

Fiona is shy and quiet, but has the mouth of a drunken sailor and smokes as much as one too (a trait which has become known due to her frequent on stage ciggie breaks which are oddly endearing).

And as much as she is beautiful, she is also very no bullshit. When I tell her that one French publication dubbed her “The Angelina Jolie of Rock,” based on her stunning looks, she simply blushes. “I didn’t read that one. I don’t know how to comment, I guess I better adopt some kids or something, that’s a lot to live up to.”

Touring with a partner mustn’t be easy. Six months straight on the road with a lover, with no break, no bedroom door to slam or house to run to would push some people (or maybe just me) over the limit. In fact, it would probably drive me to finding the closest Uzi. But Fi is disarmingly nice and down to earth when I ask her what it’s like to tour with her boyfriend.

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Pic: Nic Bezzina

“It’s been really good. It’s probably been harder sometimes having to share a room with not only Gareth but the two other guys. I mean, it’s cool that we get to do this together, but it’s hard when you’re on the road and you’re the only female with three guys and sometimes when you’re just not in the mood for it and you’re pre menstrual and you’re in the van it’s like, ‘I hate you, I hate you all, Fuck off!’ ” A lot has changed for The Drones since their beginnings in 2000. Fiona, Gareth and Rui origionally moved from Perth to Melbourne, where the band were given a cultural shock. “When we got to Melbourne we were like, ‘God there’s so many bands playing, so much to do,’ and we were going out all the time.”

But the city was at first tedious for the band to deal with. “It was really hard to even get a gig,” recalls Fiona. “I remember ringing the Espy just pleading, ‘Can we please play there? We’ve sent out demo!’ But they were like, ‘Nah.’ It’s taken us fucking years to fucking play good shows.”

Mike joined two years ago after problems with their previous drummer.

The Drones have worked their arses off to create the success around them.

“It’s what we wanna do,” Fiona begins. “We’ve been working bum jobs for so many years and if we can make money out of fucking doing this shit then it will be awesome. I’m so sick of fucking working in a bar. Before I left Melbourne I was working at The Tote and working at a fabric warehouse. I was doing two jobs, working fifty hours a week trying to save money to go overseas.”

So after returning to Australia, where does she think that the majority of support for the Drones comes from?

“Australia is our number one support base but were weren’t an overnight success here and it’s going to take time overseas as well. We’re not on a huge record company so we don’t have big money coming in so we just gotta keep playing shows and getting press.”

So far this year they’ve toured America, supported the Soledad Brothers in the UK, did the Australian Dinosaur Jr. supports, and have done their own national Down, Around and Out Tour. Things couldn’t be going more swimmingly says Fi. “We were in UK for the last week of the overseas tour and we played with Soledad Brothers and that was more our audience compared to Deerhoof - everyone really liked us.”

And how has the Dinosaur Jr. tour been? “It’s been really loud. There’s so many amp stacks. It’s the first time ever that sound guys or venue owners have been coming up to us saying “Ohh, you were the quiet band last night, it was great!!!” it’s cool that we’re the quiet band for once.”

The follow-up to the band's 2002 debut, Here Come The Lies, Wait Long

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Pic: Nic Bezzina

Pic: Nic Bezzina

Pic: Nic Bezzina

Pic: Nic Bezzina Pic: Nic Bezzina

By The River And The Bodies Of Your Enemies Will Float By is simply amazing. Track one off the album, “Sharkfin Blues”, is one of “those” songs for me - you know those fucking songs that shakes your core? But it’s not alone. The whole album is filled with gut wrenching tracks such as “Baby Squared” and “Sitting on the Edge of the Bed Cryin’”, which I can only imagine is due to Liddiard’s exasperated vocals cooing detailed story-like lyrics. And then there’s track four, “Locust”. As a musician I can only hope that one day I will write a track that has such ability to ingrain itself in the listener with its blatant depressing beauty much like Johnny Cash’s cover of Nick Cave’s “Mercy Seat”.

I embarrassingly tell Fiona this. She assures me, “I’m a big Neil Young fan so it’s his track “Ambulance Blues” for me”.

The album's stark intensity translates into a live show that outstrips any other Australian band at the moment. Gareth’s huge eyes staring at the crowd without blinking as he screams and shakes with conviction.

Rui’s expensive but expressive thrashing and trashing of his guitars.

Mike’s precise and heavy percussion keeps the band in line, while Fiona’s bass lines lock the unit together.

The Drones have already recorded their next album, Gala Mill, which will be released around August, followed by even more extensive touring.

“It’s pretty different,” Fiona explains of the third Drones record. “It’s a lot quieter, but like pretty intense. Most of the tracks are between six to eight minutes [long]. There’s one song that’s like ten-twelve minutes that’s just Gareth on his acoustic guitar singing about convicts.”

Will they be performing that one live? Fiona laughs, “He might be, we won’t! Me and the boys will be side of stage smoking and drinking - we need our breaks!”

Gala Mill will ensure the members of The Drones won’t have to return to their dreaded day jobs just yet. “After the next tour overseas we’re coming back but we’re gonna just keep touring and then we’ll release the new album and then go back to tour the states and Europe and England again. There’s no real end in sight for us. I’m gonna have a nervous breakdown from all this touring.”

I’m elated that the Drones won the AMP. As much as 2005 was a year that Australia released a few good albums, it also released a hell of a lot of shit albums, a hell of a lot of shit bands got more airplay, and a hell of a lot of shit bands toured. Amongst all the shit that seems to engulf us, it’s amazing to see a local band that actually deserves the recognition getting it. Even if this does come in the form of being interviewed on Channel Nine’s Today programme by Richard Wilkins - an experience I’m sure the band will not be forgetting in the near future. Does this mean that they’ve officially “made it”? hmmm I can almost hear Rove sniffing around now…

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hey are the little Aussie battlers that just won’t quit, the Duracell bunnies of Australian punk, an institution founded in the suburbs of Sydney more than twenty years ago that refuses to lay down and die. The fact that the HardOns have just released one of the most inspired albums of the year in the form of Most People Are A Waste Of Time is a testament to their tenacity and resilience. Their continued presence on the scene has seen them taken somewhat for granted these past few years, but Most People Are A Waste Of Time is a strong reminder that the Hard-Ons are, and always will be, one of this country’s finest bands.

The past decade has been hard for the Hard-Ons, a band who enjoyed their peak years in the late-eighties and earlynineties. In ‘95 the original line-up – Blackie (guitar), Ray Ahn (bass) and Keish DeSilva (vocals/drums) – decided to break up, only to reunite a couple of years later and resume touring. They released one more album together, 2000’s This Terrible Place, before Keish departed for good and Hard-Ons Phase Two kicked in. Front End Loader drummer Peter Kostic joined and Blackie reluctantly accepted vocal duties for 2003’s Very Exciting!, the most experimental and savagely diverse album in their entire catalogue.

For better or worse, the Hard-Ons had grown steadily disinterested in writing two-minute punky metal pop songs and saw little reason to keep the band locked up in a genre-specific box. The temporary abandonment of their quintessential thrash pop sound for a harsher, more challenging approach proved alienating for many of their hard-won fans, but for the band it was a case of evolve or perish, and thankfully they chose the former. Most People Are A Waste Of Time sees the Hard-Ons come full circle back to their pop roots in an organic way. It could be described as Dickcheese (1988) all grown up, a diverse and yet concise slice of brilliant distorted pop only with tighter songwriting, better production and way less fart jokes.

Last year marked the 21st anniversary of the HardOns, and to celebrate they merged the Mk I and II line-ups (with Kostic remaining behind the kit and Keish rejoining temporarily upfront with the mic) for a highly successful national tour that has obviously helped re-invigorate the

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band. But the Hard-Ons are not interested in surviving on their reputation. Indeed, while creatively they’ve never shown the slightest desire to do so, from a financial point of view, they literally can’t afford to. Perhaps if they were from Europe – a place that generally regards artists and musicians as genuine contributors to society – they would be set for life. But as it is with the abhorrent nature of the local music business and the limited opportunities afforded in Australia, all three still have day jobs. Blackie drives a cab, Pete works in a drum shop, and Ray serves metal to metalheads at Utopia Records. They play in the Hard-Ons because they love it. They seem more in love with it than ever.

Recently the Hard-Ons found a solution to the ongoing “problem” of their inclination towards extreme diversity; recording two fulllength albums at once - one to accommodate the poppy side of their sound, and one for the noisy side. Most People Are A Waste Of Time is merely the first of two very different but equally ingenious albums tracked and mixed simultaneously in October last year with the help of producer jonboyrock (Front End Loader, Spod, Further, Grand Fatal). The melodic precursor to its evil thrashing twin Most People Are Nicer Than Us, Most People Are A Waste Of Time finds the Hard-Ons setting a remarkable new benchmark at a time in their career when most other bands (Ramones, AC/DC, Motörhead included) have long shut up creative shop.

Here, in separate interviews, former Punchbowl Boys High schoolmates and original HardOns, Raymond Ahn and Peter “Blackie” Black, discuss the reasons why you can never keep a good Hard-On down.

The new album is tops, almost a return to an older Hard-Ons sound.

It’s our interpretation of pop music, ‘cos we’re all big pop fans. I think every Hard-Ons album up until now; most people would consider it a dog’s breakfast. And that’s been the problem with the way a lot of people have perceived the Hard-Ons. We are a band that is very varied in what we will do on an album. And it worked for a very long time.

For example, when we put out Dickcheese (1988), a lot of people loved the fact that there was thrash metal, hardcore, straight punk and there was tons of pop on there as well. I think that album had something like eighteen songs and there was something for everybody. And a lot of people enjoyed that. But then we get people who say, “I only like the HardOns when they’re metal,” “I only like the Hard-Ons when they’re pop,” all this sort of stuff. So, in a way, this time we dared ourselves just to put out a purely pop album. So we went into the studio and recorded a whole pop album and also a whole metal/thrash/punk album as well, even with bits of black metal and stuff. So that is part two of a, well I can’t say trilogy, although I like that word.

Why didn’t you do like Foo Fighters, with one rock record and one nice acoustic record?

I’ve got a lot of respect for the Foo Fighters so I won’t touch that subject. I like Dave (Grohl). The big problem with doing an acoustic album for us is that we feel like the only way an acoustic guitar would come anywhere near the Hard-Ons is so we can lean it up against a wall and smash it, y’know. We would never ever do Unplugged. We’ve been offered to go on radio shows and television shows to do an acoustic set and that would be completely missing the point of the Hard-Ons. You can’t separate bits and present this bit of the Hard-Ons or that bit of the Hard-Ons to the world. We don’t really want to do that. So even if we’re putting out a pop album, we’re not going to do it acoustic. The world does not want another Hard-Ons album, let alone a Hard-Ons acoustic album. This is a band where our trademarks are a pretty good live show with lots of feedback, a hell of a lot of volume, electricity in the air, ugly men up the front, sweat, that kind of thing. What would an acoustic album do for the Hard-Ons? That would kill us.

exactly what everyone else was doing. I’m like, “I don’t need to see this band. Why are you telling me to see this band when I can just turn on MTV?” But lately I’ve been going to see bands where people say, “Go see this band, you’ll love ‘em,” and I’ve been going, “Oh my god, this band is incredible.” Everyone was telling me to go and see My Disco and I saw them recently and you know, I didn’t find My Disco to be all that original. And, in fact, if you take away a couple of their major influences, i.e. Shellac and Jesus Lizard, then they are going to be hard-pressed to come up with their own stuff. But you know what, they had a fucking monstrous sound, and you could tell that they were all pretty young, and you know, they might be a little bit unoriginal tomorrow but in two months time they’re probably gonna be fucking trailblazers. I’m not going to not go and see them next time. Hopefully they will have their own thing going to add to that monstrous sound and they are going to be a better band. I also saw Kiosk, which is three young kids who have absolutely zero musical ability and so they’ve had to rely on something that’s a bit more primitive.

And this is something that a lot of people have known already, if you give people a lot of training then they default back to the training. So what most musicians present to you as expression is not really coming from them but from their training. A band

like Kiosk don’t have any kind of training, so what they’re presenting is absolutely pure. Every time I see them I’m in absolute raptures. There are so many great young bands, and last time the Hard-Ons played, I have to be honest, it was really crowded and there weren’t that many people who were old farts like us, they were young kids. And I’m not talking like when most people mention the words “young kids” and you think of the studded belt, the Ramones T-shirt, the tight black jeans with legs that look like carrots, the floppy fringe and a nautical star tattoo on their elbow, right? I’m not talkin’ those kinds of kids. Those kids, I don’t know what they’re going to be into in a few years time, but they’re not at the HardOns’ gigs now, and they probably never will be. The kids I’m talking about are like real misfits, they’re all like eighteen or nineteen, I don’t know what they’re into. I’m thinking, “Where are all these kids from?” I talked to a couple of them and they were into the most weirdest shit that I’ve never even heard of before. So maybe kids are getting into underground music again in a big way, not just the shit that’s rammed down your throat by TV companies. I don’t know? But I’m really excited about it. So to answer your question, who knows, but maybe we will be the king of the kids again goddammit!

Mostly with kids today it seems unless it’s marketed to them in a certain way they don’t want to identify with it.

People don’t want music okay, let’s not fucking fool ourselves.

People are not music fans. The average person is not looking for music to envelope their life. Music doesn’t mean that much to the average person. They are not into music but are into lifestyle.

So if you’re a kid and you have $50 in your pocket, you are not going to go and buy a couple of CDs when a CD is just a bunch of zeros and ones which you can get for free off your friend. You are going to take that fifty bucks and buy a Tshirt because then you can fit in and be identified. People need to drape themselves in peacock feathers to find a fucking mate. How else are you going to get laid at an All Ages gig unless you’ve got the right tattoo? It’s a competition between all the fucking peacocks to see who can get laid with the prettiest emo chick. Look at the minimal differences musically between some hardcore and some metal bands today.

Sometimes the only difference between those bands is the fact that one lot of people dress a certain way because their

Do you expect all your old fans to come crawling out of the woodwork for this one?

Well we hope so, if not the woodwork then out from behind the housing commission. Anywhere, I don’t care where they come from, as long as they come. Having said that, the three of us are terribly, terribly excited about the state of underground music at the moment. There are so many great young bands, it’s unbelievable. People are always saying, “Ray, you’ve gotta go see this band, they’re amazing,” and I used to go see these bands and it would be some fucking bogan nu-metal band with an overweight bassplayer doing

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friends do, while the other lot dress a certain way because their friends did back in 1986. I’m thinking, is this what it has come to?

We identify members of tribes by our haircuts and cut of jean? If that’s the case, I don’t want to have anything to do with it because I just like music. Who gives a fuck what they look like? I read the last issue of UNBELIEVABLY Bad where it said something like, “Who cares what The Scare look like when they sound this good?” I’m the fucking same, I don’t care if they look like a million bucks, I absolutely don’t give a shit. I like The Scare because of what they sound like, who cares how they look. New York Dolls used to dress like drag queens, I don’t care; the music is fucking astounding. One of the things about the Hard-Ons is that the three of us are pretty average guys - like really really average guys.

None of us go out of our way to pretty ourselves up for men or women. And in this day and age if you pretty yourself up you’re going to be ahead. Let’s face it, most people are stupid, so unless you’ve got the haircut they like, or unless you go and actively tell them, “We’re a skacore band, as you can see because our logo has black and white chequered patterns. We know you’re not that bright so we better fucking spell it out for you, we’re a skacore band and if you come and see us we’ll be doing upstrokes on the guitar and there’s a trombone player...” if you’re not a band that screams from the top of a mountain what kind of band you are you’re going to be behind the eight ball a little. But guess what, the Hard-Ons, we’ve got something a lot more valuable than that, and that’s fucking freedom. Kids walk around at schools wearing Anarchy backpacks, or Punks Not Dead; I thought the spirit of punk was having complete freedom. Excuse me, we might be old farts and we might not have floppy haircuts but we’ve got something better: freedom.

Is it bad that kids call themselves punk?

No, kids can do whatever the fuck they want. Kids are kids; that’s what kids do. Kids go and join tribes because their family is not enough for them. Who wants to be just part of their fucking family - mum, dad and their fucking brother?

They want to join a group that they’ve chosen to join. And if that’s punk, and if joining that punk group requires wearing a certain kind of fucking uniform, so be it. That’s what kids do.

I’m not going to stop them from doing it. I got into punk for different reasons. I got into punk because I was an alienated kid, a migrant kid in a white country back in the seventies.

But people embrace the idea of punk for different reasons and times have changed, so I’m not going to fucking say, “You’re not the real punk.” But that’s what some people do.

HARD-ONS DISCOGRAPHY 1985: 1986: 1986: 1986: 1987: 1987: 1987: 1987: 1988: 1988: 1988: 1988: 1989: 1989: 1990: 1991: 1991: 1991:

“Surfin' On My Face” 7” “Girl In The Sweater” 7” Smell My Finger mini-LP Hard-Ons (USA only) “All Set To Go” 7” “Busted”/“Suck n' Swallow” 7” Hot For Your Love Baby The Worst Of… (Europe only) “Surfin’ On My Face” 7” (re-issue) Dickcheese “Just Being With You” 7” “Sick Of Being Sick” 7” (free giveaway) No Cheese split w/The Stupids Love is a Battlefield Of Wounded Hearts “Where Did She Come From?” 7” Yummy!

“Dull” 7” “Dull” and “Just Being With You” 12” (Europe only) 1991: Let There Be Rock double-10" w/ Rollins 1992: Where The Wild Things Are split double-7” w/ Celibate Rifles 1992: “She’s A Dish” CD-single 1992: Dateless Dudes Club mini-LP 1993: “Crazy Crazy Eyes” CD-single 1994: Too Far Gone 1994: Test EP 1994: A Decade of Rock double-CD 1994: Singles 1995: Europe Your Choice (live) 1999: The Best Of… 1999: Yesterday & Today CDEP 1999: “You Disappointed Me” 7” (Germany) 1999: “Sharks Head” 7” (Spain) 2000: Split split CD-single w/Boom Boom Kid 2000: This Terrible Place 2003: Very Exciting 2005: “There Goes One Of The Creeps That Hassled My Girlfriend” / “Happy Birthday To Us” 7” (21st anniversary issue available at shows) 2006: Most People Are A Waste Of Time Coming Soon: Most People Are Nicer Than Us

Go around Erskineville and find the old streetpunk in his mid-to-late thirties who’s all bitter because kids are different now goddammit. I feel like saying, “You don’t like that situation? Go and form your own fucking band.” And you know what, some of these guys do and you know what else, some of those younger bands wipe their fucking arses. Some of those young bands you can say whatever you like about but a band like Parkway Drive, they’re fucking amazing. Okay, they’re not that original, but tomorrow they could turn out to be one of the most trailblazing metal bands on the planet. How do you know, are you going to give them a chance? I’m not going to be like an old fart criticizing Parkway Drive, I think what they’re doing is fucking fantastic.

They’re a bunch of young kids from a remote part of Australia and I think it’s amazing what they’ve done. These kids, they come home after school and practice their fucking arses off, pay for their own rehearsals and equipment, then go and form a band that’s brutal as hell and in fact world class. The only downfall is that they’re not that original, but mate, on album number two who’s to say they’re not going to be blowing everyone’s minds.

You obviously derived a lot of inspiration out of doing the 21st Anniversary Tour.

We did, but that was its own entity. We had a lot of fun, but we’re ready to move on, that’s for sure. One thing that really makes us vomit is the whole concept of nostalgia and flogging something that really shouldn’t be flogged. Like this whole Misfits bullshit. Like, why not just call the band Black Flag? There are more members of Black Flag in the band now, the main singer/songwriter hasn’t been in the band for how many years, and they’re still doing it. Is that right? Is that what you have to do? You have to lower yourself to that point so you can sell a pair of shoes with your logo on it?

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21st Anniversary Hard-Ons: (LtoR) Blackie, Pete Kostic, Keish DeSilva, Ray Ahn

Pic: Rod Hunt

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Apparently the media weren’t allowed to ask The Misfits any questions about the former members or old line-ups.

Well that tells you something doesn’t it. It’s not a band it’s a marketing phenomenon, that’s what it is. And the band has to tour every now and then so they can sell a bunch of shoes.

But having said that, I don’t have a problem with that. I’ll tell you why: because they’re not here for music, they’re here for entertainment. So be it. Who am I to slag them off? It’s like The Wiggles, I can’t slag The Wiggles, because a bunch of kids like ‘em. What would be the point of slagging off The Wiggles, it’s not made for me. What would be the point of slagging off The Used? I’m not a Christian and I’m not a pop-punk kid who’s fifteen, so why would I slag them off? Just ‘cos I don’t like ‘em doesn’t mean they don’t have a right to exist. They are for someone else. I’m not gonna slag off nu-metal either. Why would I slag off Papa Roach or P.O.D or any of those bands that I personally don’t like? It’s not made for me; it’s made for someone else. And I’m not gonna slag off The Misfits, it’s not made for me, it’s made for Imelda Marcos – she loves shoes!

Ray interview cont'd on page thirty-eight

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What a spiteful little cunt.

Yeah, exactly. But when I found out about doing this interview with UNBELIEVABLY Bad I’m like, “Fuck yeah, I’ve got time for this sort of shit.” I’ve got issue two here, it’s fucking unreal. It mentions Sick Things, Lubricated Goat, all sorts of shit. And I can actually read a review and feel like going out and listening to what I’m reading about. It’s really good, thumbs up. I’m not pissing in your pants, I’m actually stoked that there’s something like this out there. I’m going to buy a copy and send it to a friend overseas and go, “Look how fucking healthy our scene is.”

Wow, that’s nice of you to say. Now can I just buy into this pocket pissing session by saying the new Hard-Ons record is excellent, I can’t stop listening to it.

That’s really nice to hear. It was just fun to get a little bit selfindulgent. I was a little bit scared, thinking, fucking hell this is a little bit straight. I wouldn’t be comfortable releasing this album if the metal one wasn’t coming out pretty soon after. When we decided to do a double album it felt like a challenge and it also felt like fun, like kids in a candy store going, “We’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do that, we’re gonna try this.” I was thinking, are we getting a little bit wanky? But then I was just like, fuck, who cares? We’re at this stage where we’ve been playing for so many years why can’t we have a wank now and then?

ÓBu!pof!qpjou!J!xbt!fwfo!uijoljoh!bcpvu qjttjoh!uif!Ibse.Pot!pgg/!Cvu! xifo!ju!hpu!epxo!up!ju!J!dpvmeoÖu! ep!ju/Ô!.!Cmbdljf Now you’ve got that off your chest, gimme the Wolfmother rant.

99% of the human race listens to music to tap their foot to. The radio exists because people need someone else to tell them what’s good. So a lot of fantastic bands fall outside that little realm. My favourite band in Australia right now is Pure Evil Trio, but Triple J is not gonna play them. Last time I saw them play they blew my brain to smithereens and there were fifteen people in the room. Fifteen people! And they were incredible. They are, hands down, one of the best bands in Australia. But they play music for one reason: music. I’m not saying for one minute that Wolfmother are doing anything other than playing music for themselves - of course they are. But I’m just saying that the stars have to be aligned, you have to have the right look, you have to play the game, and the right people have to back you to make a fuckin’ million bucks. And Pure Evil don’t. The stars are not aligned for them. Things are not going to go to plan for them. But that doesn’t mean all of a sudden they’re gonna turn around and go, “Guys, we’ve all gotta start wearing tight black jeans.” They are not gonna do that, y’know, because they’ve got something better: freedom.

There is a Hard-Ons documentary being made, Pinball Punks from Punchbowl; what stage is that at?

Well, apparently Michael (Park) the producer has now got funding from the ABC, but now what they want is to make it more than a musical story and give it more of that human angle. You know like Australian Story or something like that - about the hi-jinks of three fuckin’ nignogs from the suburbs, that kinda thing. And correlated with the socioeconomic situation when we started and it’s kind of like a Big Picture kinda thing. It’s a human-interest story, not a music interest story, which is fine by me. If it means we’re being exposed to more people then whatever it takes. Oh shit, Nik Tropiano just flashed a brown-eye at me. Two hairy moons and a hole in the middle. (yells) That bum’s no good it’s got a crack in it! Anyway, I better go back to work, to The Home of Heavy Metal. Bye now.

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Hi Blackie, do you have any other interviews to do today, this one might take a while?

I’ve got one other interview scheduled today and it’s with a dick called Steven Downey from the (Sydney) Daily Telegraph and he gave (Blackie and Ray's other band) Nunchukka Superfly a fuckin’ hiding in a review so I don’t know how I’m gonna take that.

Are you gonna have a go at him or what?

I probably am because it was not only a shit review but it was insulting as well. I think one of his comments was like, “If you thought the Hard-Ons were unlistenable wait till you hear this.” And then something like, “This record isn’t as good as mummy and daddy thinks it is.”

You might say it’s straight, but a song like “Bubble Bath” goes a bit nuts in the second half.

Yeah, I guess my idea of straight isn’t someone else’s idea of straight, but it did feel that way. And with my pop stuff, I have been having a bit of a problem in that it has been coming out a bit too pop. I actually had a pop band going for a little while, Meandering Funeral Posse, which I’ve sorta had to give a rest because we only played two shows and I just don’t have time and the bassplayer got pregnant and blah blah blah. So I was a bit worried that I was past writing pop songs for the HardOns but I found out that when I knuckle down to it, I can still do it. I really really enjoyed it as well.

You seemed elated at the reaction to the 21st Anniversary tour of last year, did that inspire new material?

It was really cool that 21st Anniversary thing. I actually had reservations about it thinking, fuck am I going to be able to go out night after night and play really old songs? We try to be fair to the fans. I know if I went out to see a Slayer gig I’d be pretty pissed off if they just played their latest record. Obviously you’d want to hear a bit of Reign In Blood and South Of Heaven and shit. So we try to go out there and play a bit of old shit. But I don’t really get a kick out of playing “Don’t Want To See You Cry” and songs that are just so old and have been played so much. But at that 21st Anniversary thing it was fucking awesome. It was shitloads of fun, and having Keish sing it made it feel really fresh and it was just a buzz.

Seeing people’s reactions was really nice too, but the influence it had on the record was none because I don’t see things that way. The only influence that tour had was that we asked Keish to come in and sing. We were having so much fun with him

because he’s a pretty fuckin’ funny guy to tour with. And then we were talking about the record and it was a bit awkward because Keish was there so we asked him to come along and sing on a couple of the tracks and he was really into it.

It must feel pretty cool to have that kind of relationship.

I think we’ve always looked at our band realistically. A lot of kids these days forget that the first thing you have to do is make music. There’s too many people who look up to Green Day or Silverchair and they don’t think about making music they think about getting big. But for us, all we think about is making music and playing live, we don’t think about any of the other shit. We’re also realistic in that we’ve had our five minutes but we still want to do it, we want to do it badly, we just don’t want to stop. You see young bands appear really quickly and disappear just as quickly because they’re not focussed on music but like, let’s get a chick bassplayer, let’s get the right haircuts, let’s try and get signed. It’s a pity that it’s like that, although there seems to be a backlash against all that. It’s getting exciting again. Fingers crossed that people remember that music is an art and they treat it that way. Whether you’re playing two chords or some really fucked up post-punk psychedelic shit you should never forget that music is an art and fuck, respect it.

In more recent interviews occasionally you’ve come across as being bitter about a lot of stuff. I’m not saying you didn’t have a right to be bitter, but lately it seems like you’re choosing to look for the positives.

Yeah, totally, I know there was a time when I was thinking, fuck why am I worrying about this, why am I wasting my energy? With the Hard-Ons I’ve had to do a bit of soul-searching I guess. The last, I don’t know, ten years or so, if not more, I’ve really been into way more fucked up music than what I was when I was younger and that’s all I’ve wanted to do. I used to get so pissed off when I’d try to experiment with the Hard-Ons on like Too Far Gone (1994) and This Terrible Place (2000) and just get such a hiding for not sticking with a formula. That would piss me off, I’d think, fuck you cunts, why are you so fuckin’ lame?

It used to really disappoint me. At one point I was even thinking about pissing the Hard-Ons off. But when it got down to it I couldn’t do it. So then I just thought, why not accept that the Hard-Ons have become like, not exactly like the Ramones or Motörhead or AC/DC, where if they did anything out of the norm it would be a catastrophe, we’ve always had a bit more leeway with the Hard-Ons, but I’ve got Nunchukka Superfly where I can do all my selfindulgent shit so I just accepted that I could keep the Hard-Ons within a certain framework and yet still treat it as a creative challenge without trying to get too silly with it. And I’ve stopped worrying about all the other shit as well, y’know, stop worrying

about how bad the music industry is, stop worrying about how lame this is or crappy that is, how many venues have closed, stop worrying about it all. I’ve grown up mate!

I wanted to ask about your Veganism, I’ve know you’re pretty into it.

Yeah but I’m not Vegan, I’m Vegetarian, I’ve never been Vegan.

I’m lactose intolerant so it’s kind of easier when I’m away to order Vegan food because otherwise everything will be drowned in cheese and you don’t want to be near me mate when I’ve had dairy products in me. I accidentally ate some cheese before the Big Day Out about two years ago and absolutely destroyed a porta-loo. I don’t know if this is true but the other guys swear when I finished they had a guy come in with a hose. But yeah, I eat eggs and shit, but I’m really quite militant about [Vegetarianism]. I don’t preach to other people and shit but I just wouldn’t walk into a place that served meat and order food from there.

When did you stop being a flesh-eater?

My parents were Seventh Day Adventists and I was brought up Vegetarian. I’ve never liked it. If I’m driving my cab and you hail me and you’re eating a hamburger you won’t get in my cab that’s for fucking sure. I’m not a movable restaurant. I’ve had people go, “Oh mate, I just need to stop at Maccas on the way home.” I’m like, “That’s cool, I’ll drop you off at Maccas and you can get your food and get another cab.” It’s funny how pissed off some people get about it.

Would you pick me up if I had a falafel roll?

Look, there’s no eating in my cab okay. You can bring a falafel roll in, just keep it wrapped up and eat it when you get home. That’s fine.

You’ve never preached about Vegetarianism in your songs though.

I find that a bit silly. I think it’s silly to get preachy about anything unless someone asks for your opinion and then it’s your opinion alone. Plus, we’re Australian y’know, Australians love a sense of humour. I don’t mind someone being serious or arty in lyrics but I think keep a sense of humour and it’s more effective. We’re very lucky in Australia because it’s an easy place to live. Compared to other places around the world. I mean, (John) Howard’s a shocker, sometimes I feel like writing about Howard, but I’ve never been very good at political shit so it wouldn’t come across very well.

What is the story with the German soap opera that had a Hard-Ons fan in the cast?

There was a German version of Neighbours, I’ve never watched it but apparently there was this kid on the show who was a Hard-Ons fan and he wore a Hard-Ons shirt a couple of times. Then there was one episode where I think his mum was depressed and he goes, “Ah come on mum, come out with me and see the Hard-Ons, that’ll cheer you up.” I’d actually love to see some of that. We did heaps of television appearances in Europe, interviews, miming on tele, all sorts of stupid shit. Fuck I’d love to see it. But how do you track down stuff like that? I remember one show in particular, I can’t remember whether it was in Italy or Germany, but we mimed “Don’t Want To See You Cry”. It was hilarious. One girl in the dressing room backstage had two baby cheetahs she was appearing with. She was some sort of pseudo Sade kind of chick. Everyone was so serious. And then we come out, we’re in flannos, throwing our guitars around, chucking brown-eyes, cartwheeling and shit. That was fun.

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Pics: Rod Hunt

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E H T K C U F

S E I M M MU T

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[PART ONE]

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NE YO ER EV THINGS FOR GARAGE MUSICWITH Y INFINITE. PRACTICALL ION PARADE E AS A FASH UCTION SITS IN THER OMENT PROD M E TH TO UP TY YT IT AN HING THE SH OF NEARLY E LIFE OUT TH G IN .

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The Mummies started sometime in 1988 - was there any kind of precursor to the band, or were you in any earlier groups?

Yeah, we were all in bands prior to The Mummies. Just like Pete Best-era Silver Beatles - only without being in 1960s Hamburg, and with less pussy.

What exactly were the origins of the band, and where did the whole mummy theme come from?

Maz [Kattuah - bass], Larry [Winther - guitar] and I knew each other from school and we all started playing in bands at around the same time. And around this time, like in 1986 or so, I used to go check out mod shows where I would see this crazy Chinese guy who was always screaming at the top of his lungs like some kind of sino-Dave Aguilar with tourettes.

That was Russell [Quon - drums]. Anyway, me and Russell got along really well and started hanging out. When he learned I had a beat up old Farfisa organ he invited me to join a garage band that was just starting up from the ashes of a previous one he had been in. That lasted for a couple of years until the four of us were just floating between bands. The mummies gimmick came about during this time. Maz and I would go on shoplifting runs and hit all the local thrift stores. We'd hit different parts of the Bay Area throughout the week, which entailed a lot of driving. To pass the time on these runs we'd

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toss around ideas for the dumbest possible idea for a band. One day, I came up with the idea of dressing like mummies. It got the most laughs, so we ran with it. You have to understand this was the eighties, and humour was a bit different back then - what with Reagan and Bush and all. This was actually funny shit in its day. The other thing to keep in mind was you could score some really great shit at thrift stores back in those days. We would take turns getting jobs at thrift stores, and working there for a week, just to decode their secret price codes.

These are typically letter codes they write on items just in case you removed or swapped a price tag - and each store had it's own homebrew code. Anyway, Larry was the only guy around that we knew of who was into playing surf guitar and shoplifting, and so I tapped him. We were a three-piece at first, with me playing bass and Maz on drums. I asked Russell to join, and since Russell's never been one to pass on a chance to do something stupid, he was in. We gave Maz a

bass, sat him in front of a Learn Guitar Like Chet Atkins record, and there you have it: instant mud bass in 36 hours, and The Mummies.

I’ve read about there being a bit of a garage scene in California at the time, is this a journalistic lie or were there really likeminded groups? Are there any forgotten groups worth tracking down?

When we started, there wasn't a garage scene in California to speak of. In Southern California, you had bands covering garage tunes as an excuse to put on a fashion show - and, as I mentioned, up here in the Bay Area there was a pretty big mod scene in the eighties, which was about as close to garage as you were likely to get. Our very first show in fact was at a mod thing (which did not go over too well with the crowd). In the early days, we were lucky to have more than a club's personnel show up to one of our shows (and they were getting paid to be there). This pretty much summed up our amazing potential to draw large crowds until we went to Seattle for the first time. For some unbeknownst reason, we went over in a big way up there. A lot of the local bands took a shine to us, which endeared us to the general show-going populace. From then on, we were considered “cool” in Bay Area booking circles. In fact, immediately

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following our sojourn to the great Northwest we were often mistaken for actually hailing from there (This offers great insight into the complex mind of your typical club booking agent). Soon there was a very short-lived, extremely frenetic climate in San Francisco, as we had inadvertently caused a scene (in the literal sense). This was 1991. There were a lot of really good shows for us that year, especially at a little (and I mean little) hole in the wall called The Chameleon (which, like a lot of good things, is no longer extant). Unfortunately, like anything that takes off, all the fucking losers suddenly come out of the woodwork. Soon everyone's in a garage band, all covering the same songs. Everyone's band has a gimmick, like costumes, or using thrift store instruments.

Not that any of this is necessarily bad, taken at face value. The problem is no one has enough balls to try any of it until it's been proven to work. No one wants to play shows where there are more people in the band than in the audience (and we were only a four-piece).

The Mummies were renowned for using shitty equipment, and I guess that’s how you got ‘that’ sound. Did you figure a lot of the greater sixties garage bands were forced to live by the same ethic and got stuck with that sound?

In a way, but I wouldn't go so far as to call it an ethic.

Besides, back in the sixties, this equipment was pretty state of the art. Transistor organs? Shit, that was like high-tech. Anyway, it was all about the sound for me. The guy in The Fabs played a Farfisa. If you wanna sound like that guy in The Fabs, you go and find a Farfisa. For me, the sound on those old records was 99% of the appeal.

The playing's generally shitty, as are most of the songs.

What kind of equipment did you record on, and what kinds of reverbs and the like were you using?

We recorded nearly everything we did on a rack-mount cassette 4-track. Despite those 4-tracks, we recorded things live, and mostly premixed on two tracks. By premixed, I mean I would manually ride the mixer during the recording, and adjust levels on-the-fly, like boosting the guitar track during the solo (or turning it down when it sucked). That made it pretty damn easy to master stuff later, as there wouldn't be a whole lot you could fix or twiddle with. Also, it left two tracks open to use for things like reverb. We used outboard reverbs and echo boxes occasionally, but the best reverb always came from room acoustics. We always recorded wherever we could make noise for a few hours. The only time we ever recorded in a legitimate recording studio was at the BBC when we were in London (Incidentally, this was the last time The Mummies ever recorded. You can blame John Peel for that). Anyway, Mike [Lucas] of the Phantom Surfers used to work in this huge concrete and steel furniture warehouse, which is where the first couple of singles were recorded.

Later on, our rehearsal space (which was the other place we tended to record) didn't have the best acoustics, so we'd record, then blast the recording through an amp in a bathroom or hallway with a strategically placed mic, and re-record a spare reverb track. And we always had Fender

outboard reverb units sitting around, since 3/4 of The Mummies were in the Phantom Surfers at some point. We also used Echoplexes on a couple of tracks, and I had this really great Kay reverb that sounded like complete horse shit (I gave it to Darin [Raffelli] from Supercharger years ago when I was through with rock ‘n’ roll). I think that's what we used for the guitar solo on “A Girl Like You” (but cranked through an amp in a very large bathroom and rerecorded). My advice is to save your money, and fuck them expensive reverb units: that's the Budget Rock way. It's this re-recording method that gives you that sound that's on the verge of completely falling apart into utter oblivion. It's priceless, and at the same time, worthless.

MUMMIES DISCOGRAPHY 1990: 1990: 1990: 1990: 1990: 1991:

“That Girl” 7” “Food, Sickles And Girls” 7” The Fabulous Mummies 7” Shitsville 7” “Skinny Minnie” 7” Northwest Budget Rock Massacre split 7” w/The Phantom Surfers 1991: The Mummies Vs. The Wolfmen split double-7” w/The Wolfmen 1992: Larry Winther & His Mummies 7” 1992: “Stronger Than Dirt” 7” 1992: The Mummies Play Their Own Records!

1992: Fuck CDs! It’s The Mummies!

1992: Never Been Caught 1992: Fuck The Mummies (bootleg) 1993: “Planet Of The Apes” 7” 1993: “Uncontrollable Urge” 7” (bootleg) 1993: Live At Café The Pit’s split 7” w/Supercharger 1993: The Mummies and Supercharger Tour ’93 Flexi-7” 1994: “Gwendolyn” 7” 1994: “Peel Sessions 7” (bootleg) 1994: Party At Steve’s House 1994: Tales From The Crypt 1995: Get Late! 7” (re-issue of earlier Estrus promo 7”) 1996: Double Dumb Ass… In The Face double-7” (re-issue of “That Girl” and “Food, Sickles And Girls” 7”s) 1996: Runnin’ On Empty Vol. 1 1996: Runnin’ On Empty Vol. 2 2003: Death By Unga Bunga - Best Of (CD only)

When choosing material to cover, how do you work it?

When I want to cover stuff I try to avoid tracks I really like cause I know I’ll fuck them up.

Well, I think you're naturally inclined to pick songs you like. The trick is to be objective about how your version sounds, and that's hard. If you can bring something to the song, like a really unique sound in the recording, or total fuck up the rhythm or something, then that's worth it in my mind. Our very first recordings were attempts at capturing that sound from those original garage 45's, though not necessarily one for one. That is, we'd try to get the drum sound from one record and maybe the guitar sound from another in our version of a completely different song. Or our take on “Come On Up”, which was suitably different enough from The Rascals’ version, made it worth doing to me. It's a godawful boring song, but fun to play - and easy, so you can really fuck around on stage while still managing to play it. After a few singles, there was a big shift in our recordings. I wanted a sound that was completely “us”, and not some attempt at aping the past. It certainly didn't mean going into a studio and doing things “the right way” either.

I wanted something that was as close to what we sounded like live as possible, and that's when you get to the sound on the Never Been Caught LP. That's the quintessential Budget Rock sound. That's the sound that all the lo-fi garage bands that came after us tried to ape - or in a lot of cases outdo. Again, a case of The Mummies making it safe for bands around the world to sound like shit.

After “making it safe for bands around the world to sound like shit”, what happened to The Mummies?

Where exactly did those covers come from? Which English rock-guy bought the Mummies' budget rock mobile? How exactly do you tour Europe the budget rock way? And who the fuck is Rick Rubin? Find out next issue of UNBELIEVABLY Bad, Fuck the Mummies – Part Two.

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Cut-Out Cover!!

Contents:

! Hard-Ons - Stop Crying @ The Mint Chicks - Rubbage Rat (edit) # The Sailors - Slam Dunk The Funk Somewhere In $ Scum. System. Kill. - Meanwhile...

Iceland % Bambi and the Bambis - Hmmm Wheatston ^ The Stabs - Blame It On Sir Charles & Spod - Country Of Sweden * Twin City Faction - Supernaut FOLD

( The Clear Spots - Slave Girl !) Nunchukka Superfly - Get Fucked !! The Blacklist - Manâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Man !@ The Uhohs - Trash !# The Witch Hats - La Botomy Bay Of The !$ Pure Evil Trio - Death To Sick Muse Industry/Dead Souls r !% Violent Soho - Fuck Repeat Offende !^ Guns Are For Kids - Yes It Yes Is !& Blasting Process - All Gone Dead !* The Warm Feelings - Anarchy JC !( Motorhank - Dear John

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OW REASSURING IT IS TO SEE SOME OF YOUR ALL-TIME PUNK ROCK HEROES AS OLD MEN FIGHTING EACH OTHER IN COURT.

I USED TO THINK IT WAS GENIUS THE WAY DEAD KENNEDYS CHANGED CRICKETS’ “I FOUGHT THE LAW (AND THE LAW WON)” TO “I FOUGHT THE LAW AND I WON.” BUT NOW THE TUNE SEEMS TO HAVE CHANGED AGAIN, THIS TIME TO HE MUCH LESS PALATABLE, “I FOUGHT MY EX-BANDMATES IN COURT AND THE LAW WAS ALWAYS GOING TO BE THE WINNER.” ON THE 13TH OF JULY 2004, THE MEMBERS OF THE REFORMED DEAD KENNEDYS ISSUED A STATEMENT ANNOUNCING THAT FORMER FRONTMAN JELLO BIAFRA AND HIS LABEL ALTERNATIVE TENTACLES HAD DROPPED THE LAST REMAINING LAWSUIT. DKS HAD COME OUT VICTORS IN A BITTER WAR OF LITIGATION THAT HAD BROKEN OUT BETWEEN THEM AND THEIR OLD LABEL IN 1998. IT WAS THE KIND OF MESS THAT, AS A FAN, I DID NOT REALLY CARE TO WITNESS. WHILE THE LEGAL IN-AND-OUTS WERE MULTI-FACETED AND WAY TOO COMPLEX TO BOTHER EXPLAINING, THE GIST OF THE OUTCOME WAS THAT IN DROPPING ALL LEGAL ACTION, ALTERNATIVE TENTACLES WERE FORCED TO HONOUR A DECISION HANDED DOWN IN MAY 2000 BY THE SAN FRANCISCO SUPERIOR COURT WHICH FOUND THEM GUILTY THE LYRIC IN THE

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DEAD KENNEDYS IN REGARDS TO ROYALTIES AND ORDERED THEM TO US$200,000.

FROM A PUBLIC RELATIONS PERSPECTIVE, NEITHER SIDE HAS COME OUT OF THE WHOLE DRAWN-OUT SCHMOZZLE LOOKING PARTICULARLY GOOD. THEY’VE BOTH SLUNG SHIT BACK AND FORTH, AND SOME HAS STUCK ON EITHER SIDE. BUT FROM DEAD KENNEDYS POINT OF VIEW, AT LEAST THEY GOT THEIR MUSIC BACK. AND SINCE 2001- JUST PRIOR TO THEIR CONTROVERSIAL REFORMATION WITH A NEW SINGER - THEY HAVE KEPT THE RELEASES FLOWING, STARTING WITH THE REISSUE OF THEIR BACK CATALOGUE AND CONTINUING WITH TWO LIVE DISCS (MUTINY ON THE BAY: 1982-1986 AND LIVE AT THE DEAF CLUB 1979) AND TWO DVDS (EARLY YEARS LIVE AND IN GOD WE TRUST INC.: THE LOST TAPES).

AT THE BACK END OF 2005 CAME YET ANOTHER RELEASE, THE 25TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION OF THEIR 1980 DEBUT FRESH FRUIT FOR ROTTING VEGETABLES, PACKAGED WITH A BONUS 55-MINUTE DVD DOCO CALLED FRESH FRUIT FOR ROTTING EYEBALLS, WHICH BIAFRA IS UNSURPRISINGLY ABSENT FROM. HERE ARE TWO SEPARATE UNBELIEVABLY BAD INTERVIEWS, ONE WITH GUITARIST EAST BAY RAY AND ONE WITH BASSIST KLAUS FLOURIDE. OF UNDERPAYING

PAY DAMAGES IN EXCESS OF

%AST "AY 2AY

What was the spark that inspired you to play punk?

Seeing The Weirdos was what made me start Dead Kennedys. I heard about punk rock and I went to the Mabuhay Gardens and saw The Weirdos play and thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s what gave me the idea that I wanted to start a punk rock band and have the best band in San Francisco.

DKâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s first single, â&#x20AC;&#x153;California Ă&#x153;ber Allesâ&#x20AC;?, was obviously intended for a local American audience, but somehow it ended up leading the band to England.

When we recorded the single I arranged the studio time, put up the finance to do it and then sold it from my living room. At the same time, we went to New York and didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t

Well you were over here in â&#x20AC;&#x2122;84.

But when we were in Australia we were hitting the front pages of the daily papers, it was just like the Sex Pistols.

But here in America we had Howie Klein at Sire Records who used to be a part of the punk scene but he came up with new wave in order to sell it to the kids. Now heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s acting like he was there back in the day and helped us along. He liked us as a band, but he didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t think America could take it. He was wrong. He was trying to get us to wear skinny ties. But everybody in the band was a good musician and we were craftsmen you know, we worked on stuff til we liked it. We only put out five or six records because we worked on them; we took the time.

Now it seems as if many punk bands are paying lip service to politics because thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the done thingâ&#x20AC;Ś

music. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s surprising how few people who hook onto bands for identity actually listen to the bands. Being elite is not bad in itself, itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s good to make people aware of stuff youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re into, but putting people down to make yourself feel taller is just jerky behaviour. It stems from insecurity I guess.

When did politics come into your life?

Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve always been political, my mum and dad fought for voters rights in the sixties. I was always exposed to it.

Were you happy to meet someone like Biafra?

Yeah, heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s very good at taking complex ideas and putting them in kind of a slogan fashion. But I always tell people that you canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t mistake a slogan for a way to solve a political problem. A slogan might be a way to get somebody aware of something, but to actually solve a political problem is more complex.

How is Biafra these days?

Youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll have to ask him. Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re concerned about him; itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s time for him to move on.

Do you feel itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s unfortunate that he couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t see the your guysâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; argument in the court proceedings?

Oh yeah, definitely. He has switched from telling people to think for themselves to telling people what to think, which is what Dead Kennedys has been against the whole time.

+LAUS &LOURIDE

² "IAFRA HAS SWITCHED FROM TELLING PEOPLE TO THINK FOR THEMSELVES TO TELLING PEOPLE WHAT TO THINK WHICH IS WHAT $EAD +ENNEDYS HAS BEEN AGAINST THE WHOLE TIME Âł %AST "AY 2AY do very well, but Bob Last from Fast Records in Scotland saw us and when we got back to San Francisco he called up and said heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d like to put the single out in the UK. He did, and it sold tens of thousands. So then another guy called up and said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;We want you to play in England,â&#x20AC;? and we said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Sure.â&#x20AC;? Then he called back said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Well, we canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t get you to tour England on just a single, you guys want to record an LP?â&#x20AC;? Then he got the financing for the first LP from Cherry Red Records, which was Fresh Fruit [For Rotting Vegetables]. So we recorded that and went to England. Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re actually still bigger in England than we are in America. One of the stories I like to tell is that in Brazil there was a record label that releases the Epitaph stuff and they re-released Give Me Convenience or Give Me Death at the same time as some Offspring and Rancid releases. But what they did was split the advertising budget across all the punk stuff evenly, so everybody got the same level of promotion, and we outsold The Offspring in Brazil. I wonder what wouldâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve happened if weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d ever been supported in the States?

In 1979 could you imagine DKs still being thought about and even revered twenty-five years later?

Back in the day punk rock in the United States was very, very underground, not like England. I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know how it was in Australiaâ&#x20AC;Ś

Radical Sheep itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s called. Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a phrase; itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s when people just adopt the politics. But if a band can get one person to look at something a little bit differently then Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m all for that. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s like when somebody sees a band at a small club and then they drop the name and say, â&#x20AC;&#x153;I saw them at a small club,â&#x20AC;? then they get all resentful because the band starts getting bigger. I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t think people should get their identity from their bands. Their self worth should have nothing to do with, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Well, I saw the band in a small club and now theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re in a big coliseum, therefore theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re bad and I wonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t go see them now,â&#x20AC;? without even judging the

You have the Fab Mab Class Reunion gig coming up on the weekend, a celebration of the San Francisco scene with The Mutants, The Avengers and Flipper - that sounds like fun.

The whole idea behind that came from the drummer from Flipper, Steven [DePace] - it was his idea. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s sort of a tip of the hat, not only to the groups who were back in San Francisco at the start, but also to Dirk Dirksen who ran the Mabuhay Gardens and gave everybody their first steady gigging place.

Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a survivors show sort of thing. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s going to be interesting. I havenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t seen The Avengers since theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve been playing again.

Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m not sure who is going to be in The Avengers, I know Penelope [Houston] will be. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m not sure if all The Mutants are trained up or if all of them are going to make it but I hope a lot of them do. They were one of the bands, both them and The Avengers, were bands that made me want to start playing in one of these bands. Also bands like The Zeros, The Dills, Negative Trend, all of these groups that were just like a train barreling down a track just about to derail. That was fun and dangerous and made me want to get involved in punk.

Some of the amazing bands from that era never even got to make records, like The Screamers for instance.

We wouldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t have had the chance to make a record if Ray hadnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t saved up all his money from years of playing in his other band. He had like a thousand dollars saved up and he threw it all into doing the â&#x20AC;&#x153;California Ă&#x153;ber Allesâ&#x20AC;? single - recording it, pressing it, doing the sleeves, it was all his money. But yâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;know, if you could somehow scrape together a bunch of money, like five-hundred or a thousand dollars in the late-seventies, you could put out a record yourself. I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know if there was any DIY scene in Australia at that point but it was just taking off in the States. There was Dangerhouse, which was a small DIY label. There was Slash, which I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t think had even started as a label, it was still a magazine. But there were all these small do-it-yourself labels or any band could put out their record on a one-off label.

That ploy worked for Dead Kennedys, your first single led to the chance to make an album.

Yeah right, it wouldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t have gotten to England and Fast Records wouldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t have picked it up and if Fast Records hadnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t picked it up it wouldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t have gotten to the attention of John Peel probably, and at that point the chronology

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²) CANÂľT EVEN TALK ABOUT THE NEGOTIATIONS THEORETICALLY ) CANÂľT TALK ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED IN THERE BUT IT WENT FOR A YEAR AND A HALF AND SOMETIMES THERE WERE SIX LAWYERS AT A TABLE ) MEAN ITÂľS CRAZY Âł ° +LAUS &LOURIDE DEAD KENNEDYS DISCOGRAPHY 1979: â&#x20AC;&#x153;California Ă&#x153;ber Allesâ&#x20AC;?/â&#x20AC;&#x153;Man with the Dogsâ&#x20AC;? 7â&#x20AC;?

1980: â&#x20AC;&#x153;Holiday in Cambodiaâ&#x20AC;?/â&#x20AC;&#x153;Police Truckâ&#x20AC;? 7â&#x20AC;?

1980: Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables 1980: â&#x20AC;&#x153;Kill the Poorâ&#x20AC;?/â&#x20AC;&#x153;In-Sightâ&#x20AC;? 7â&#x20AC;?

1981: â&#x20AC;&#x153;Too Drunk to Fuckâ&#x20AC;? / â&#x20AC;&#x153;The Preyâ&#x20AC;? 7â&#x20AC;?

1981: In God We Trust Inc. EP 1982: â&#x20AC;&#x153;Nazi Punks Fuck Off!â&#x20AC;?/â&#x20AC;&#x153;Moral Majorityâ&#x20AC;? 7â&#x20AC;?

1982: Plastic Surgery Disasters 1982: â&#x20AC;&#x153;Bleed for Meâ&#x20AC;?/â&#x20AC;&#x153;Life Sentenceâ&#x20AC;? 7â&#x20AC;?

1982: â&#x20AC;&#x153;Halloweenâ&#x20AC;?/â&#x20AC;&#x153;Saturday Night Holocaustâ&#x20AC;? 7â&#x20AC;?

1985: Frankenchrist 1986: Bedtime For Democracy 1987: Give Me Convenience Or Give me Death (compilation) 1987: Early Years Live VHS 2001: Mutiny On The Bay: Live 1982-1986 2001: Early Years Live DVD 2003: In God We Trust Inc.: The Lost Tapes DVD 2004: Live At The Deaf Club 1979 2005: Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables (25th Anniversary reissue) w/ Fresh Fruit For Rotting Eyeballs DVD

negative review, actually, I canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t even remember whether the review was negative or not, but the actual people from the photo saw their picture and theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re like, â&#x20AC;&#x153;What the hell is this?!â&#x20AC;? Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d gotten that picture at a garage sale years before Dead Kennedys even started, I just thought it was a goofy picture, so I took it and we put the skull and crossbones on it and used it for a poster for the first gig we played without (original second guitarist) 6025.

We billed it as â&#x20AC;&#x153;The New Improved Dead Kennedysâ&#x20AC;?. So we decided to use the same thing for the back of the album and I thought that group was from the sixties, at least! But it turns out they were from the seventies. They were called The Sounds Of Sunshine and they had become a quasi-religious Christian group and they wanted to sue us for three million dollars. One of the things we brought up to them was that if they were so worried about their image as good Christians being tied in with the Dead Kennedys then why in godâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s name had they recorded at the Wall Of Voodoo Recording Studio, which we had found out they had.

So they just stuttered, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Err, arr, urr, we hadnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t noticed the name of the studio,â&#x20AC;? or something like that. I think we gave them three thousand dollars for damages and agreed to remove their likeness from the album. So the next step was to go and chop their heads off. The copies with the original picture on it are sort of like the equivalent of The Beatles â&#x20AC;&#x153;Butcherâ&#x20AC;? album cover, thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s not that many out there.

So after all the court proceedings that you went through to earn the right to release your material, you really seem to be making the most of it.

Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m happy to have it out there but it leaves a bad taste in the mouth all the crap we had to go through to get there.

Basically no one wins in a situation like that. But at least we were vindicated. Nobody won, but we were vindicated. Because weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d been in negotiation for a year and a half over this and there was no give and take at all during the negotiations. I canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t even talk about the negotiations, theoretically. I canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t talk about what happened in there, but it went for a year and a half

gets somewhat scrambled. But basically, Cherry Red offered to give us some money to record an album and it took off from there. We were doing nothing in the States at the time, we were barely able to get gigs, but we were taking off in Europe and so once we went to Europe and came back and it was like, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Just returned from their tour of Europeâ&#x20AC;Śâ&#x20AC;? and suddenly weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re a big deal in the States.

Why did you do a 25th Anniversary edition of Fresh Fruit For Rotting Vegetables?

The remastering had already been done a few years back when we first reissued our whole back catalogue on Manifesto Records after all that legal stuff got cleared up. So weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d already remastered it and we didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t want to just put out a 25th Anniversary edition to sell more records because we donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t want to put stuff out that we wouldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t want ourselves. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m a collector and I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t like buying, for instance, an album of somebodyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s stuff that theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve re-recorded. That drives me crazy, and unless itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s very obviously stated on the cover that itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s re-recorded. If Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m buying a new version, I want it to sound better than the last one I bought, like I would buy Japanese vinyl versions of Beatles albums just because they were much better sounding than the American ones.

So we had just finished working on the In God We Trust, Inc.: The Lost Tapes DVD and we really liked working on that and we really liked the person we were working with so we thought, letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s put a 20-minute documentary in there with the thing. So

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Dead Kennedys, the classic lineup: (LtoR) Jello Biafra, DH Peligro, Klaus Flouride, East Bay Ray

we talked to some people about being interviewed for it and everyone said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Sure, but I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t tell you much because I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t remember much about that period.â&#x20AC;? Then, when they shot it, to a person, everyone talked for half an hour to an hour at least. So then we had this wealth of material and then instead of stretching something out to 20-minutes we had to hone it down to a little bit under an hour. Watching the final take I was really happy with it.

How did some of the reviews of the reissue compare to the ones you originally got for the album?

We didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t get much in the way of reviews for the record originally. One of the few reviews we got was the one that ran down in Los Angeles that some paper ran and they used the back cover for a picture, that group of people who we used on the back cover art posing as the band. So aside from the 32

and sometimes there were six lawyers at a table. I mean itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s crazy. So finally it became a thing for us where itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s not about the money itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s about a reality check. And we wanted to have a reality check and if it came down against us weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d say, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Well, we must have got our information wrong somewhere.â&#x20AC;? But as it turns out we came out totally vindicated in what we were saying. And that in itself is a hard thing, because it is still not accepted by the other side as reality.

Do you know why Biafra is so bitter towards you?

I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t pretend to know what was going on in his head and Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m certainly not going to psychoanalyze and do some amateur psychology and try to get to the bottom of what caused him to act the way he did. What drives him to do the good stuff he does is probably just as strong, and thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s what makes him

they suddenly got all nice and gave DH a studded belt theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d confiscated from some kid outside the club and started getting autographs and everything. And DH comes out of it like, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Oh this sort of shit happens to me all the time in the States anyhow so Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m not fazed by it.â&#x20AC;? Whereas Ray was like, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Give me a Valium, now!â&#x20AC;? It was four hours before we could get them out of there.

who he is in a way. And he is capable of great stuff, I have no trouble with that, I just donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know why he got so dug in.

Did it become more of a personal thing?

Again, youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re asking me to make judgments about what was going on in his head. For us it had become a thing where facts were facts, basically. We just wanted to make it into a thing where if these facts donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t hold up in court then something is squirly. But the facts were not being paid any attention to in negotiation so there was no point in negotiating after a prolonged period of time. Just throwing money at lawyers, it was like shoveling it into a furnace. So then it became a reality check for both us and him.

Youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve come close to touring Australia since the reformation, I heard a fresh rumour just recentlyâ&#x20AC;Ś Yeah, it keeps getting close and then something falls apart.

Love to do it. The logical way to do it would be to do what we do in Europe where we could drop in on New Zealand and hit Japan on the way back, maybe even Hawaii because weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve never played Hawaii. The last time we were in Australia we didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t do Perth, we didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t do the West Coast at all. It had been booked, we were supposed to go out there, but what happened was the guys who booked the clubs had some trouble when the police made a presence within the clubs several weeks before. They didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t bust anybody, they didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t cause any trouble, they just hung out in the clubs in uniform in numbers. The clubs owners are going, â&#x20AC;&#x153;What are you doing in here? Get outta here, youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re killing me! Everybodyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s leaving.â&#x20AC;?

The cops are saying, â&#x20AC;&#x153;We have just as much right to be in here as anybody. Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re just making sure everythingâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s cool.â&#x20AC;? They said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Well what is this about?â&#x20AC;? And they said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Well a lot of us are really going to be interested when Dead Kennedys come through.â&#x20AC;? It was a sort of mobster logic. So one by one the promoters over there bailed out because they couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t afford it and as soon as they pulled out they had the cops out of their clubs and they could go back to business again.

Speaking of reality checks, you even posted up some scans of the royalty cheques he had received online. Was that because he was claiming to have not being paid?

He was asking where the money had gone. The funny thing is he, is still in the partnership. Most people donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t realise that the Dead Kennedys is still a four-way partnership under the banner of Decay Music and he gets a quarter of all the royalties. Even the judgment that came down against Alternative Tentacles, he got a quarter of.

Yâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;know, the whole thing is like some absurdist play.

Biafra says one thing and you guys say something else and Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m sitting here in the middle and it all goes around and aroundâ&#x20AC;Ś I think youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll find that with just about anything. What youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve gotta do is look at both sides, you canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t just look at one side and take that answer. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m not expecting people to read this interview and say, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Well, if Klaus said so, it must be so.â&#x20AC;? The same with whatever Biafra says. But I think where Biafra had gone from telling people to think for themselves heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s sort of switched over to telling people what to think. Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a subtle shift in the paradigm, but itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s an important one to notice. But you know, people label us a political band but if you look at the stuff, Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d say two-thirds of it is more social interaction weirdness than anything. â&#x20AC;&#x153;A Kid And His Lawnmowerâ&#x20AC;?, â&#x20AC;&#x153;I Kill Childrenâ&#x20AC;?, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Forward To Deathâ&#x20AC;?, all those things are not about governments, theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re about what makes people who feel tortured inside do strange things and getting inside their heads. People say to us, â&#x20AC;&#x153;You guys rock, and everything you say, I believe,â&#x20AC;? and we say, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s crazy!â&#x20AC;? Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re a rock band.

You cannot go to a rock band for answers to anything. Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s insane, or lazy. Our goal, at best, is to get people thinking.

If theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re thinking and theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re interested enough about something then they can go and research it further and figure out their own viewpoint on something - be it political, social, or what makes a person like John Wayne Gacy go crazy.

Do you remember touring Australia in â&#x20AC;&#x2122;84? I know you had some trouble up in Queensland with drummer DH Peligro getting locked up.

Queensland is your version of our Florida basically. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the same thing; itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s The Sunshine State, thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s what Florida is called. Florida is very conservative politically, itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s not part of the deep south but itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a southern state and very very conservative. Basically DH got busted from afar, they saw him from down the block and he had a can of beer, and it wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t even open, but the cops thought, letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s go bust the Abo and throw him in the watch-house. So they got a bit closer and they realised he wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t Aboriginal but it was like, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Ah what the hell, heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s black, letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s bust him anyway.â&#x20AC;? I wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t actually there at the time so Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m only going off what they told me but Ray said, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re not taking him without taking me because I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t trust what you guys are going to do to him in gaol.â&#x20AC;? So the cops told Ray to get out of the car and in the end he was arrested for disobeying an officer or something. So they took them down to the watch-house and someone mentions like, â&#x20AC;&#x153;We were just playing a show and all of a sudden thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s all this trouble.â&#x20AC;? And the cops are like, â&#x20AC;&#x153;What show?â&#x20AC;? Ray and DH are like, â&#x20AC;&#x153;The Dead Kennedysâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; show. Weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re Dead Kennedys.â&#x20AC;? So then a light went on in somebodyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s head that they had these guys in their station that they busted for no possible logical reason, who were just on the news and who have access to the press. We couldâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve had a field day with that if we wanted to. So then

What would it take to get Dead Kennedys down here?

An organization that could plan it that doesnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t crumble in the middle of it. So far as I know weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve had a couple of things that looked like they were going well and then the promoter would get excited about it before they had enough clubs lined up or theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d get clubs lined up and then one guy falls out and then another guy falls out, I mean itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s just gotta be somebody whoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s experienced at doing it and is going to make it stick so we donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t come out there and have another Perth thing happen to us. I would love to play Australia again.

²$EAD +ENNEDYS IS A FOUR WAY PARTNERSHIP AND "IAFRA GETS A QUARTER OF ALL THE ROYALTIES STILL %VEN THE JUDGMENT THAT CAME DOWN AGAINST !LTERNATIVE 4ENTACLES HE GOT A QUARTER OF 9¾KNOW THE WHOLE THING IS LIKE SOME ABSURDIST PLAY ³ ° +LAUS &LOURIDE

33

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DREAMS BECOME REALITY:::

STABS ACR AMERICA gpsuz.fjhiu

Words by Buffy Tufnel. Pictures by The Stabs and friends.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

• • • • • • •

Brendan: guitarist Mark: bassist Buffy: drumming Meg: driving Dimitra: playing Jodi: sugar mama Monica: moral support

We’re staying with Kris, whose band Shoplifting we admire (and whose new bassist is Mel from Remake Remodel). That man is simply hot. Holy shit, now I can see why Mel is moving to Seattle (high-five there, Mel). We are shown hospitality above-and-beyond the call of duty. We score some weed – fifty bucks for a generous quarter – and spend a couple of nights kicking back with Kris and his flatmates.

Our first show is in Olympia, but before heading, we decide to check out Kurt’s mansion. We are hypersensitive to what dags we are, but eventually find the house. Looking through the bushes at the massive home where most of In Utero was written (and where the Nirvana story ended) was a sombre experience. Thank god for dope.

OLYMPIA, WASHINGTON: THURSDAY

16TH MARCH

PORTLAND, OREGON: SATURDAY

18 TH MARCH

The show tonight is at Dantes, the venue that gave birth to the Suicide Girls. However, we are without a drumkit for this gig and need to get something sorted or we’ll be screwed.

Thankfully, our friends Ryan and Carrie work in a music store, and we pull up in our yuppie supervan right on closing time to buy a thousand dollar drumkit. The beauty of this is, they will allow us to return it the next day for a full refund! We take that beautiful kit to Dantes, where once again we are treated to a four or five song soundcheck by the headliners, Mudhoney. Guy Maddison, their Australian bassist, comes over afterwards and says, “We’re going for dinner, do you want to come?” Trying not to look sexually aroused by this, we accept the invitation, and grinning broadly we trundle off to Chinatown with fucking Mudhoney for a slap-up feed!

We’re the main support for this show, and we’re pretty amped. So we sit backstage and smoke a forest of pot and drink rider beers and Steve Turner’s bottle of vodka (note to Mudhoney aficionados: Steve is the only real pisshead in the band) and generally float about in a daze…When we take the stage, it’s to nearly a full room, and in the front row, giving us their full attention, are the four members of Mudhoney. Talk about performance anxiety…

Due to the overwhelming atmosphere, we were cooking at this gig. Meg also put in an exceptional effort as guitar tech – when Brendan broke a guitar string, she got Steve Turner to replace it. The whole time I’m trying to avoid looking at Mudhoney, and at the end of each song a roar goes up from the audience, which sure doesn’t hurt our confidence. Meg has another busy night on the merch desk.

Pic: Rod Hunt

By the time we swagger into Le Voyeur, the venue at which we’re playing, we’re all seeing triple. Nevertheless, it’s time to rock, and, following sets by local bands Zach Rambo, The Mona Reels, and Peter Connelly, we disgrace ourselves in the best possible fashion – at 120 decibels in a small room.

Possibly because they are seriously deranged, the locals seem to like it.

band members coupled with their engrossing stage presence is all beyond reproach. We are even treated to a drum solo.

It doesn’t get better than this, not without free hookers and blow anyhow… And the best thing is: we get to do it all again tomorrow in Portland. Before leaving, we go and smoke a number at Jimi Hendrix’s grave.

Pic: Rod Hunt

SEATTLE: SEATTLE WASHINGTON:: WASHINGTON

WEDNESDAY 15TH MARCH

We meet up with Meg on the plane. Meg plays violin in Tarantula and has also played with us as part of The Stabs Orchestra (which is our attempt at high-brow experimental art-rock), and we hope she knows what she’s in for. Having previously provided tour support for acts as competent and well-behaved as Baseball and Ninetynine doesn’t exactly fill us with confidence, because (as I am unable to explain to Meg) we have a tendency to get royally wasted then bash up on each other. Our plane lands hours later in LA, where we’re met

by Jodi, after whom we originally named the band (before she cracked the shits and demanded we change it…). Her plan is to watch us self-destruct and gloat over our implosion.

Pic: Rod Hunt

ROSS

SEATTLE, SEATTLE WASHINGTON: WASHINGTON FRIDAY

17TH MARCH

Here we’re joined by our friend, Dimitra (Archaic Forms, Auxilliary Assembly). Tonight’s show is what its all about, playing with Mudhoney in their hometown. The venue is the Crocodile Café; also on the bill are local-legends The Makers and new Sub-Pop signing, Parchman Farm. I thought the days of having my ID checked were over, but in America even an old cunt such as myself can expect to be hit up several times in a single night.

During soundcheck Mudhoney play four songs from their latest record. We stand around with the other support bands enjoying what is essentially a private show. I can’t believe how friendly the other bands are, more than happy to help us out with whatever we need. We’re probably the most left-of-centre band on the bill. All the other bands are pretty much straight rock’n’roll, and after Parchman Farm’s set we enjoy letting rip with our signature crappy sound. Much to our delight, people lap it up.

The Makers play next, looking like Mötley Crüe but sounding like The Breadmakers. And then Mudhoney… Playing two sets (the first being the new album in its entirety and the second a greatest hits package), the tight interplay between

Mudhoney’s show is the same in format as last night’s – first set is the new album; second set is greatest hits.

But that’s where the similarities end. Instead of a drum solo tonight, in place there are dueling guitars, with Mark Arm pulling dance moves and trying to lift Steve Turner onto his shoulders. Steve launches into a rant and tears up the setlist (remember: Steve is the only pisshead in the band) and decries “This is shit, man, let’s play something else,” and starts a riff that the other band members don’t instantly recognize. They wind up with “Here Comes Sickness.”

SAN FRANSCISCO, CALIFORNIA: MARCH 19 TH - 21ST

We arrive at Kelley Stolz’s house in San Francisco, set up camp, then drive to the Los Altos hills for an interview with Mitch Lemay from radio station KFJC. Now, you cannot swear on radio over here, not only can the station be fined, but so too the individual presenter. So Brendan and me are in trouble when we say “shit” twice in a minute, but they did play four of our songs that are riddled with expletives. Hopefully Mitch still has his job…

OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA: WEDNESDAY

22ND MARCH

Another radio interview, this time with Kitty English from KALX. This time we intend to be sensitive about swearing, but as soon as we sit in front of the mics, the transmission cuts out so we make small talk consisting mainly of me flirting.

However, we didn’t realise we were streaming to 7000 online listeners. So fuck knows if we swore like cunts.

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Tonight’s gig is sans-Mudhoney and ther location is The Stork in Oakland; we hook in and watch the support acts. First is Ettrick - basically two drummers, one with a busy double-kick action, the other with fast-flying wrists and plenty of snare pounding. In the middle of the set there is a sax solo (much to Meg’s chagrin).

Following on were The Cars The Doors who were playing even drunker than we would at our worst. They could hardly stand up, and flayed about the stage wrecking their own gear – I loved it. It was the perfect set up for us to come on brimming with confidence from our Seattle and Portland shows, and this we did. And finally, Kreamy ‘Lectric Santa powered through a set that was at times quite lo-fi punk and at other times bordering on prog. Robert and Priya, with whom we stayed the night, are the driving force behind this band, and back at their house, we find out that Priya has a script for medicinal marijuana, which is as good as the stash we’ve brought with us, but which she makes peanut butter out of it. Mark, being vegan, relishes the chance to dip a carrot in dope peanut butter.

SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA: FRIDAY

24TH MARCH

So we head back to Kelley Stolz’s house, where we totally disgraced ourselves with drunken brawling a few days earlier, and prepare for a show at The Hemlock Tavern with Times New Viking and Residual Echoes (featuring members of Comets On Fire). We get around to playing and do a pretty good job of it. The sexy members of Times New Viking bring us shots of whisky while we play, which are very much appreciated, and we do some joints out front of the pub with them later. I really, really, really love this band. They played a corker of a set, and I only wish I had the resources to bring them out to Australia. So good in fact that Residual Echoes suffer from having to follow.

Afterwards, Brendan (who is blind drunk) goes out partying with Times New Viking and they end up at an all-night tattoo party, drinking illegal moonshine. The next day, he resurfaces with a tattoo of a guitar string wrapped around his bicep.

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA: SUNDAY

26TH MARCH

This is where we say goodbye to Jodi, whose perpetual good mood and bottomless pockets have provided us with much joy. Over the next three weeks, we will come to miss her potty mouth.

The gig takes place at a venue called The Smell, which is All-Ages and alcohol-free, and which backs on to a grotty alley where Brendan finds a guy trying to break into our van.

The dude says he won’t break into it for a dollar, and for five dollars he’ll make sure no-one else breaks into it.

Dimitra kicks things off with an improvised duet with Mark, which is sultry, then me and Brendan join in. Dimitra’s vocals are particularly haunting, and the set is well received. Then comes soloist Tick Tick creating an extreme racket of white noise for all of one minute before throwing her equipment to the ground and screaming, “I’m a failure, I’ve fucked it again!” Motheater are next. They play hardcore, but the songs are really long. The headline act steal the show – Mika Miko, who are extraordinarily easy on the eyes, performing disjointed X-Ray Specs style punkrock-party-dance shit. They had the whole room moving.

We don’t get out of there until three in the morning, and we have to fly to New York at seven, so we stay awake driving around smoking the last of the weed (which we obviously can’t take on the plane). I’m pretty impressed it lasted this long.

NEW YORK CITY: TUESDAY

28TH MARCH

The Cake Shop is a venue downstairs, and upstairs there’s naturally enough a cake shop. You can also buy records there.

Tonight we play with Death Set, Show Me The Pink, CinemaMechanica and some dude who sings whilst cycling an exercise-bike. I can’t really remember much about the gig, except that Monica from Love Of Diagrams joined us and we were all (Mark in particular) happy to see a familiar face. Also, our old buddies from New Zealand, Cortina, showed up, which was an awesome treat. Our two bands go back a long way, and they are likewise in the middle of their own tour, and launching a great new album. I believe we played like shit, so the fact that my memory evades me is probably a good thing…

In other news, Brendan managed to meet Rupert Gee and get his mug on the Letterman crossover, and I was determined to do something likewise worthwhile. So Dimitra and I wandered over to the Dakota Building, where John Lennon lived and died. I stood on the exact spot where he was shot. This was strangely creepy.

PHILEDELPHIA, PENNSYLVANIA :

THURSDAY

30TH MARCH

We bus out to Philly to play the Mill Creek Tavern with Bad

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News Bats, Demiourgos and The Uptown Welcomes (ex-Dead Milkmen). Things are looking up, our cab driver wants to sell us drugs on the way to the gig – but we end up buying them from the club’s bouncer instead. Meg was convinced he was a gay psycho-killer with me in his sights. I didn’t care though.

He had drugs.

The Uptown Welcomes played quirky songs with dual vocals and two acoustic guitars. Demiourgos were prog-style heavy rock reminiscent of Colditz Glider – lots of busy scales and instrumental wig-outs. We played one of the best shows of the tour, unfortunately I busted the headline band’s drumkit up, but that’s life, hey? A bit of gaffa tape held it in place for their set, which was fantastic. Bad News Bats are four girls (Abby, Liz, Virginia, and Mary Beth) who play Cramps-ish, Joy Division-influenced surf grunge punk, and we ended up visiting them more than once and becoming good friends.

One thing I should mention about the USA is that everyone drives drunk. They still use the old walk-a-straight-line test there and were amazed that we have breath-testing and a 0.05 limit. We left the venue for Liz and Abby’s house in two vehicles – a sedan and a huge van. Both were laden with people and equipment, and both drivers considered it a matter of pride to be the first home. So they were driving fast, and erratically. At one point, the sedan in which I was traveling stopped at a red light, and just like the Spielberg film Duel the van appeared behind us and pushed us over the red light into the middle of the intersection. So when the light turned green, our driver thrusts the car into reverse and punches back into the radiator of the van. This is considered normal in Philadelphia. The next day we drive across State to Pittsburgh, listening to Alice Cooper’s radio show in the van (he plays stuff like Van Halen and Frank Zappa and has lame voiceovers such as “next up, a Cooper double-play!”).

pretty happy with the way we played, though, especially when a guy comes up after the show and says, “You guys reminded me of another Australian band, have you ever heard of Lubricated Goat?” It turns out he has put out a record over here by (Lubricated Goat frontman) Stu Spasm and is a huge fan of bands such as The Scientists and The Birthday Party. Of course, we were stoked.

INDIANOPOLIS INDIANA:

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS:

SATURDAY 1st April

We continue the long drive until we arrive in Kurt Vonnegut’s hometown of Indianapolis. In a bizarre lineup, we play with a comedy punk band called The Dockers (sample lyric: “I’ll stand before both God and man and declare: Bitch! Where’s my pussy?!”) and a bunch of grind and metal bands (Order of the Black Hand, Alien Death, Glass City Colonels) none of whom really grabbed me. I was

PITTSBURGH PENNSYLVANIA: SUNDAY 2ND APRIL

We head back to Pittsburgh, where we’ll be staying with an old mate, tENTATIVELY a cONVENIENCE – anarchist, sound-artist and filmmaker – who stayed at my house in Australia years ago. I was looking forward to seeing him, and doing a noise show together. This we did at the Modern Formations Art Gallery.

Kevin Hicks played a short set to open, accompanying himself on guitar, and with the assistance of drums and cello. tENT projected a film of himself playing another gig at the same time manipulating the score through an array of effects, creating a piece that was at once visually stimulating and textured with noise mayhem. Dimitra performed solo after, putting her HeadRush pedal to good effect, creating a wall of guitar noise with which she harmonized. Then we wheeled out The Stabs Orchestra, which consisted of Mark hitting a distorted bass with a guitar stick, Brendan tweaking a feedback guitar, Meg bowing cymbals, and me making other percussive effects. The small audience really dug it, and there is a bootleg of this gig floating around the ether out there somewhere…

4

TUESDAY TH APRIL

By the time we pull into the house of Jail from The Coughs, we’re all pretty buggered. Jail’s house is called The Beauty Shop and hosts gigs every month. Tonight, we’re playing with Mikaela’s Fiend (Seattle), Disrobe and Spunky Toofers, who are all pretty much hardcore, so we’re hoping we go down all right.

The night goes off like a ferret in a franger. Special mention goes to Mikaela’s Fiend, who, with nothing but drums and guitar, were ferociously loud. The drumming was just beyond

anything I’ve seen in years, that kit took the worst punishment of any kit on the whole tour, the dude is a maniac.

The next night we went to check a noise gig with weirdo action including a girl dressed as a giant bug demanding that someone bring her “rags” (Magick Missile); Das Butcher-style scary-rumble-feedback from a Milwaukee act, Climax Denial: and the impeccably named DJ Ass Damage. Afterwards, we crash in a warehouse called “Hey Cadets”, which is essentially a huge artspace with hippies living in it. Brendan opened the locked door with a keycard, and everyone thinks we are shady crooks.

DETROIT, MICHIGAN: THURSDAY 6TH APRIL

Detroit is the most fucked-up city I’ve ever been to. This is where they filmed Robocop, and it’s got that whole post-apocalyptic wasteland thing going on. We’ve been added to a pretty impressive bill. Bryan Glaze (ex-Brian Jonestown Massacre) is first, with a sound recalling Chris Bailey’s work from the nineties. We play next, relishing the full-scale PA. We’re in good form and it goes down well. Human Eye follow with big reverb and keyboard’s owing a lot to Hawkwind. Lastly, Gris Gris play with spit and polish, but we decide we need to go back with our hosts, Ian and Crystal (he plays in Izquierdo and used to be

a Piranha), and a few baggies of gack. We get to the flat and our hosts aren’t there, mainly because they were pulled over by cops after buying more booze for everyone, but amazingly, they were allowed back on the road. We’re joined by a few of Ian’s friends and then it’s buckabucka all night long.

WASHINGTON D.C : TUESDAY

11TH APRIL

We haven’t seen our friends Chris and Kendall since they were kicked out of Melbourne last year, and it’s great to hang out again, with the laughing and the partying and stuff like that.

We’re staying with them, along with Hugh (Ruffian Records), above the Swim-Two-Birds studio where we intend to record a track for an upcoming Art School Dropout Records compilation.

The Black Cat is Dave Grohl’s bar, where the in-house Red Room beer is fabulous. Dimitra and I are invited to play with The Sore Thumbs, and we leap at the opportunity. This is the name Chris and Hugh play under, with Chris improvising guitar over Hugh’s richly textured vocalisations. The Stabs go down all right, and then Sentai wrap it up before their audience of adoring teenage hotties. Another all-nighter ensues.

WASHINGTON D.C : WEDNESDAY

12TH APRIL

We suffer during the day, taking it easy while the feeling returns to our teeth. Taking in a music shop in the afternoon, Brendan obtains an outrageously rare Memory Man pedal for fifty bucks, and we marvel at the inexpensive guitars and stupidly

cheap gear. Score more pot of a guy in the street, and it’s back to Swim-Two-Birds to make a record. It’s pretty late by now and we’re feeling pretty snowed out, but around midnight (full credit to Hugh), we have a track down and a full fridge of beer.

NEW YORK CITY:

THURSDAY

13TH APRIL

Leaving Dimitra behind to do some recording of her own, we hit the bus back to NYC. We’re playing kind of a secret gig tonight, because another venue in New York doesn’t want us to play twice, but because we’ve been invited to play at this bar part-owned by Slash, we just have to do it.

But so as to not put the other venue’s nose out-of-joint, we bill ourselves as The Witch Hats.

The bar is called Snitch, and the barmaid is a buxom formeractress who has branched out into massage-therapy. She hits us straight away with Puerto Rican whisky, and the free drinks keep coming through the night (which is good considering a spirit-

and-mix costs nine dollars, plus tip!). We then have to endure the worst shithouse macho-metal wanker-rock bands before and after our gear-wrecking set. The night ends badly when the free shots add up and Brendan gets banned from the bar. But it’s okay because they think our band is called The Witch Hats.

NEW YORK CITY: FRIDAY

14TH APRIL

This is the night of the gig I’m most hyped about, because Lubricated Goat are simply the ultimate in my opinion. When I lived in Sydney years ago I considered their shows unmissable and trolloped about after them like a total whore. And I can die anytime after tonight, because we’re gonna be playing with The Goat at the uber-cool Knitting Factory. And, after actually running into him during a photoshoot in Central Park, striking up some friendly banter, Brendan has put Iggy Pop’s name on the door (no bull)!

The first act is called Down In The Dumps. They’re the only band from NYC on the bill, and they have an enthusiastic audience of words-knowing fans. Following their punky set, Scout’s Honor defy expectations established by their bass player’s over-the-top mullet and play the kind of uproarious hard-rocking music we like. I’m glad to say that we played one of the best sets of the tour right here, with Stu Spasm looking on, big amps turned up nice-and-loud and a cater-

wauling mix. I don’t really like talking about The Stabs’ performances, but I was beaming for days after this.

And then…

What can I say about Lubricated Goat other than that the ten-year wait was utterly worth it. Kicking off with “You Remain Anonymous” they powered through a dazzling set, which included Crunt tunes alongside classic Goat delving back to “Jason The Unpopular” from their first album (and which was announced as “Brendan The Unpopular” since that’s what I’d written in fat black sharpie across Brendan’s chest). Meg was making fun of us because we were grinning from ear-to-ear and just loving every minute of it, but even she admitted that the band were hot, commenting, “they sound good, like they should’ve been big.” Damn straight!

ALLENTOWN, PENNSYLVANIA: SATURDAY

15TH APRIL

In a remarkable display of duty, we forgo an invitation to have breakfast with Lubricated Goat since we have to hire another car and drive to Allentown, which turns about to be even crazier than Detroit, with the fiercest, most rampaging audience I’ve ever seen at any gig ever. Driving past a sign that says “Hyman: For Lease,” we arrive to meet up with the organiser, Matt from Air Conditioning. He tries to warn us what to expect by saying the last time his band played here there was a brawl, and in it, his girlfriend grabbed his hair and started punching him in the face, whilst mid-song some fuckers came at them on the stage and hit them in the face with spray paint, and then all bruised up with a face full of paint he had to catch a plane. “And damn,” he says. “I’ve only got one vial of smelling salts, I hope too many people don’t pass out tonight…”

We played a cracker show whilst all around, the wild behaviour threatened the lives of all participants. There were projectile-throwing, glass-breaking, amp-trashing, stagerushing lunatics everywhere, totally wrecking the joint (called Jeff The Pigeon). At one stage, Matt is himself charged down, and whilst we look on helplessly, rolled up in a carpet and then everyone starts pelting him with bottles and stomping on his head. We’re watching footage of this later in the night, and when we say, “Hey Matt, here’s footage of you getting rolled up in a carpet and glassed and beaten by everyone,” he doesn’t remember it. Our set ends in a riot.

This is in contrast to the first act, The Lexie Mountain Boys, who played one of the most thoroughly stimulating sets of the tour. Tonight, Lexie and four of her hot collaborators (sometimes there are eight of them) stormed through an a cappela set dressed in revealing taffeta ballgowns and sporting salacious makeup, slinking around the dimly lit moshpit quite clearly breaking the brains of several boys in attendance with their eerie chanting bad-trip psychedelia, harmonized refrains such as “shoot up in your tit” and polyrhythmic vocal gymnastics. I stood in awe.

Life Partners were the Boston hardcore band who had the unenviable task of playing next, followed by us, and then more hardcore from Doomsday 1999. By the time they were ready to begin, the place was already bristling with barely repressed violence and savagery. During their bracket, it went into chaotic overdrive. Folks were just bashing the shit out of each other, demolishing the room, even the bouncer put five people on the floor by swiping them at full-force with a fold-up chair, which was later seen thwacking the same bouncer in the back of the head; the singer was glassed in the face and lost half a tooth, there was so much broken glass that the band came offstage with bloodied hands and knuckles. So much shit was flying around the room that if I wasn’t so coked up I would’ve been scared for my life! Some of you might’ve read the story about a guy who was fucked up the arse by a horse and died while his friend filmed it? This is the fucking town where that happened…

NEW YORK CITY:

16TH TO THE 17TH APRIL

Not much left to this story now… we drive back to NYC and spend our last night in America watching the sunset over Manhattan, and then a few more Blue Moon Belgian Whites at the Brooklyn Inn. Mark and I get carried away drinking at the airport after I realise that it’s pretty easy to steal beer and we miss our flight, which is a right total bitch because we’re on a different flight to Meg and have to meet up for a connecting flight in Los Angeles. But after a couple more beers we’re finally out, missing our connection and getting transferred to a flight which is basically empty, hence we get to lie down and sleep with a row of seats all to ourselves.

Cuntishly, our luggage is missing when we get to Melbourne, but it gets delivered by courier the day after.

Mine came in a plastic bag having been slashed open and searched by customs. Hope they enjoyed rummaging through my dirty undies and Lubricated Goat T-shirts. Like we would do anything stupid like smuggle drugs through an international airport or rack up on our passports or anything like that…

- end -

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alk! Luke “I Got Out Of Hardcore, The DDoleanaindteW rview by ” Logemann. hing Luke t-Talking On Everyt hi S ve Lo ll ti S I ut B

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hen I first got into hardcore it seemed like pretty much the most exciting thing I’d ever come acros s. A whole scene full of ins and out and a weird sense of everyone belonging to something exciting and underground.

Me and my friends thought it was the most important thing in the world. We were all completely obsessed with straig ht-edge and scene gossip and moshpits and zines and traveling inter city to see shows and meeting up with other people who, like us, thought of little else but hardcore. For a good few years it was pretty much all I thought about.

In the middle of my HSC exams, me and my friends hiked from Sydney to Newcastle to see the Australian band that almost singlehandedly got us all obsessed with hardc ore, Pitfall. They were doing a reunion show at Newie's infamous Black Box room, which was the hub of the scene up there at the time.

I have no idea how many people were there, but in my memory it seems like 500 or more.

The hardcore band that came to mean the most to me was also probably the one that eventually made me realise how much I hated hardcore; Arms Reach, fronted by the same person who sang for

Pitfall, Luke Dolan (the artist formerly known as Luke Crew). Arms Reach started out as a scene band, writing about things like the hardcore scene, or people smoking at shows, drinking at shows and all the rest of it – making sense to all of us who cared about that kind of thing. Eventually, they delved into politics that made people think about their actions and the consequences of what they were doing.

I saw Arms Reach maybe fifty or even more times. I remember the first time they busted out the song “Invasion Day” at Hornsby PCYC just after Australia Day, and thinking that I’d never thought about our country’s celebration of its discovery from the point of view of the Aboriginals. I remember when they articulated how shit guys could be towards girls when they talked about them. And I always remember when they gave a big fuck you to their peers that had become jaded arseholes about what they thought hardcore should be. All in all, Arms Reach was the band that embodied hardcore in the late-nineties for all the younger Sydney and Newcastle kids that had had enough of the way the world was.

Eventually the band died, and it was around the same time that I gave up on the idea of hardcore and the scene. Their final show ended in emotional turmoil, and for the most part was the end of me caring much for the Australian bands playing hardcore music.

It wasn’t specifically the end of bands like Arms Reach and Deadstare that made me not care about hardcore, it was the feeling that the music was changing and I wasn’t really into what it was becoming; metal type bands with a lack of relevant politics or energy within the music. Rather than low key All Ages shows in small halls, it seemed like doing international supports at bigger venues was the way to get your music out. And besides, I always found bands that sang with more emotion (Chain of Strength, Negative Approach and Black Flag) more interesting, and I was discovering more music that had that kind of energy to it.

But with the rise of Luke Dolan’s new band, The Dead Walk!, it seems for many people that hardcore is back and is and fun and exciting as ever. A much less serious outfit than his last band, Life Love Regret, The Dead Walk!’s mixture of fun and politics has made a lot of people feel like coming to shows again and being a part of hardcore. Personally I haven’t checked them out live but have enjoyed their records and the lyrics. I find hardcore pretty uninspiring (except to listen the old stuff and get chills from remembering how much I loved it when I was younger), but the fact that The Dead Walk! have created something that has done more than just make people want to get more tattoos is enough to earn my respect - which is more than I can say for most hardcore bands. The fact that they are in this magazine also suggests that they are much cooler than all the stiff jock bands around nowadays. You don’t see a Terror interview in here do you?

As always, with something interesting to say, Luke was awesome to interview about hardcore, the past, the current and The Dead Walk!

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Æ@ ZXe Y\ X gfj\i Xe[ X a\ib Xk k`d\j aljk c`b\ \m\ipfe\ \cj\%Ç Ä Clb\ ;fcXe Every time you’ve started a new band since Arms Reach, there’s rumours that you’ll do a more melodic band, more in the direction Pitfall was heading towards the end. But then every time you come back with another hardcore band. What is it that attracts you to hardcore?

Well it’s kinda just a lack of talent really! When Life Love Regret first broke up, I started jamming with a more melodic style band like Jawbreaker, Hüsker Dü kind of thing. It was alright and I had fun doing it but it was kinda like we just missed playing hardcore. Like it was all chilled out and relaxed and I’m just too hyperactive. I keep coming back to hardcore because it’s just so straight-up and energetic and it just feels right to play. I just love the vibe of hardcore, it’s something I’ve always been into. I’d like to do something else at some stage, maybe a few years down the track, but at the moment hardcore still motivates me.

I know you’re into hip-hop. Did you ever trying rapping?

I thought about trying a bit of rapping – again, when Life Love Regret broke up. I had a few friends that were into MC-ing and going into battles and all that stuff. I checked out that scene and went along to a few shows and stuff. I thought about trying it, you know, taking the piss out of people and stuff – ‘cos I’ve done that before so much anyway. I sort of had a few gos, but I dunno, it never

What other types of music would you consider to influence The Dead Walk!?

There's a Smiths lyrical reference on the new album as well as an S.O.D one. Basically when I run out of ideas I just steal other peoples! Apart from hardcore and a nod to old school hip-hop, we're definitely influenced by metal also. Jon (Williams – guitar) who writes nearly all of the music has worshipped Dimebag Darrel from Pantera (R.I.P) since he was a pre-teen surf bogan (not a contradiction in terms in Newcastle) and you don't have to listen too closely to hear a few sneaky westie Pantera riffs in the mix.

Do you feel there are many parallels between hip-hop and hardcore music in their purest forms - like the aggression and direct lyrics etc?

Yeah maybe in their purest forms, particularly with how they both started out as counter cultures fuelled by the rejection of mainstream music and ideals. Perhaps the chest-beating aggro and egocentric braggadocio that is found in both is what attracts me to them!

In Arms Reach it never seemed like a massive deal that there were two girls playing guitar but now that I look back it's a pretty different thing considering I can’t think of any Australian hardcore bands with females at all.

Yeah it was never a big deal in Arms Reach and that's the way it should be. I think the hardcore scene is pretty sexist and inherently male dominated, perhaps due in part to the outward aggression of the music, but this does not excuse some peoples shitty attitudes. It's already enough of a sausage fest without some fifteenyear old dick saying, “No clits in the pit.” Get the fuck out of my face with that shit, seriously. New Justice Team, Short Lived, Terra Firma, Rather Be Dead, and Cry Murder are some current Aussie HC bands with female members, which is rad to see.

s you Do you feel like hardcore still challenge an? veter musically, or do you feel kinda like a comes pretty It’s a bit of both I guess. It’s something that I must have easy in terms of writing songs and stuff – . Sometimes written over a hundred fucking hardcore songs are interesting it’s a struggle to find things lyrically which g back to ‘cos or whatever, but it’s something I keep comin sed with it like I it still inspires me. It helps not being obses all I listened to was back in the Arms Reach days. That was all kinds of shows and the only shows I went to. Now I go to now that I’m not – hip-hop, rock, whatever. So it helps as well much music so as close-minded about music. I go check out like an old friend. and come back to hardcore and it’s kinda ore way more I feel like the reason I find older hardc influenced by interesting is that they weren’t being long. Whereas hardcore, cause it hadn’t existed that track, all the now, twenty years or more down the so it sounds kids in bands only listen to hardcore rehashed and boring. ation of Yeah for sure. Now that its like the tenth gener down with every bands and it kinda gets watered down and Arms Reach

Pic: Simone LeJune

Pic: Rod Hunt

really felt right doing it. Like if I was gonna get up there and say “I’m the best MC in the whole world,” I don’t think I could pull it off. But I actually bite a fair few old school hip-hop lines in Dead Walk! lyrics. Hip-hop heads would be able to pick out references and direct rips of LL Cool J, Geto Boys, Public Enemy, Grandmaster Melle Mel, Edan, among other shit. We also cover “Fight For Your Right” by the Beastie Boys on the new album [We Prowl The Streets] and in our live show.

What bands nowadays do you rate in terms of hardcore?

Jungle Fever, Straightjacket, Faux Hawks, and…. I can’t think of a whole lot at the moment but there are good bands out there. Bad Blood, New Justice Team, No Apologies, there is a few.

LUKE DOLAN DISCOGRAPHY 1995: Pitfall - Sons And Daughters cassette compilation (1 song) 1995: Pitfall - Call It Whatever You Want compilation (2 songs) 1996: Pitfall - Demo cassette 1996: Pitfall - First Blood compilation (2 songs) 1997: Arms Reach - split Demo cassette w/Found My Direction 1997: X Claim! - We’ll Never Make A Difference Demo cassette 1998: Arms Reach - split 7” w/ Forward Defence 1998: Arms Reach - Within Our Reach 7” 1998: Arms Reach - Cover Whatever You Want compilation (Seige cover) 1999: Elbow Deep - The Pez Rehearsal Demo casette 1999: Arms Reach - split 7” w/Scalplock 1999: Pitfall - Discography 1999: Arms Reach - Remain on the Fringe 4-way split 7” w/ Mugshot, Regular Boys Haircut and AVO 1999: Arms Reach - Home Of The Brave compilation (1 song) 1999: Elbow Deep - split LP w/Three Found Dead 1999: NC Wolfpack - Record Collectors Fucking Rule Demo 2000: Arms Reach - Death To Shallow Hardcore 2001: Life Love Regret - Sick Of Goodbyes 2004: Life Love Regret - The Last Ever Show Live split w/No Jazz Before The Rumble 2004: The Dead Walk! - Demo 2005: The Dead Walk! - Re-Animation EP 2006: White Male Dumbinance - AKA Cock Diesel Demo 2006: The Dead Walk! - We Prowl The Streets 2006: The Dead Walk! - split 7” w/Jungle Fever

Straight-edge seems like something that can be dangerous. Inevitably when someone breaks edge they end up going overboard on drugs and drinking.

Straight-edge is an intriguing phenomenon. I mean, I think abstaining from drugs and alcohol is great, but is there any need to proclaim “True til Death” and adopt such a rigid and overtly righteous attitude? When I became straight-edge, I did it to be DIFFERENT to my peers, not to FOLLOW a set of rules or to join a clique. But as the years went on and SXE got more popular, it started to lose some of its relevance to me. I started to question why did I label myself straight-edge? Why have I taken one dude’s song, applied it to my own life, and then patted myself on the back like it was my own idea? It was like, “Yeah I don't do drugs or drink alcohol... so fucking what?”

After eight years of labelling myself “Straight-Edge and Proud” and allowing that to define my identity I realised that I had nothing to be proud of - that I was just a herb who didn't drink and that straight-edge only gave me an identity because I was too insecure and weak to find my own. So with that reality check came the drinking, and the drugs, and the prostitution... haha, just kidding, but yeah, I hit the booze and recreational drugs pretty hard. I had some bad experiences and some good ones under the influence, but thankfully it didn't take me too long to find my limits and a couple of shockers turned me off recreational drugs for good. (OK, so maybe I'll get high once a year now, haha).

I've cut back on drinking of late too as I try to stay fit for the soccer season but I fear that will all go down the toilet on the upcoming Ringworm/Mindsnare/The Dead Walk! tour!!

Pic: Rod Hunt

The Dead Walk! is now the fourth major band you’ve fronted. How is it different from Pitfall, Arms Reach and Life Love Regret?

Pitfall was the first band I was in. I was just so excited to be in a band and so stoked about it. It was something I’d wanted to do for so long.

The other dudes in Pitfall were older and so I didn’t have as much say, whereas Arms Reach was more like my band, where I had a say in the direction of it. Arms Reach was something I started with Jamie and we just set out to do what we wanted to do. Arms Reach had two girls – Amy and Christie on guitars, and we started with two vocalists and we were just a bit different from the start.

Life Love Regret was something different again because the end of Arms Reach was just such a burn out on hardcore.

Being such a completely obsessed freak and being so judgmental and being over so many of the bad things you can associate with being into hardcore, I ended up kinda burning out. So Life Love Regret was kinda just releasing all

that frustration - frustration with myself and frustration with the scene and so many other things.

And with The Dead Walk! it’s like having all that hindsight in my favour. It’s me realising I don’t have to take myself so seriously, and it’s just a band and it’s just music. There is plenty of other things in the world to think about. So it’s like taking a step back and having a bit of a laugh at myself and saying it’s not the be all and end all. It’s more about the things I love about hardcore and not the things I don’t like.

Just remembering what got me into it in the first place – it wasn’t the heavy scene politics and the insane bitching. It’s like I’ve gone full circle.

Do you ever feel the tendency still to just go “Fuck this shit, I don't wanna be a part of this” when you see certain bands or things at shows?

Nah, not at all. I've never really cared too much about what the latest trends in HC are or who the hottest band is this month. I mean, yeah, you see and hear some lame shit but I've stuck around long enough to not let the negative bullshit have any influence on my involvement in or enjoyment of hardcore. You've gotta accept that, just like the outside world, the hardcore scene is full of posers and jerks and I remind myself that I too can be a poser and a jerk at times just like everyone else. This is not to say that you shouldn't question the hardcore scene status quo and stand up for what you believe in, but I think it's wise to not take everything (including hardcore, the scene, and most importantly, yourself) so seriously. For fucks sake listen to some other sorts of music too, like Computer World by Kraftwerk or Alligator by The National.

Three of your bands ended in a kinda full-on way. Do you consider yourself a dramatic person to be in a band with or were the bands just so intense it ended up that way?

I think I'm a bit of a control freak. The way I look at it, when you're the singer in a hardcore band, you're screaming your guts out night after night. For me to want to do that, I have to be passionate about what I'm screaming about. I can't stand singers who half arse it, it's like “Get the fuck off the stage and stop wasting my time.” So I have to be feeling the music and the lyrics and with four or five people in a band you have to compromise on certain things. I don't like to compromise. I can be stubborn, I can be a bit of a cunt, and I think that played a part in the demise of those bands. With The Dead Walk! I've chilled out a lot. I don't take myself so seriously and I'm more willing to compromise. I guess it comes with age and learning from your mistakes. I can see The Dead Walk! lasting a lot longer than those other bands simply because fun comes first.

Do you miss having a political edge to your music?

I guess with the new Dead Walk! album there are a few more serious lyrics on there. The Dead Walk! is reaching a bit more of an audience now we’re releasing this album on Resist and there’s gonna be a certain amount of people who will be into it. So I thought I’d say a bit more, maybe not as much of the politics of Arms Reach, but I’ve definitely brought up a few issues. There’s twelves songs, so there’s a bit of humour and a bit of stupid comedy kinda stuff, but also some serious more direct songs to balance it out. I think of a few of the lyrics will challenge some people.

Can you elaborate on some of the songs you've written that are a bit more challenging/political?

“Throwing Spanners” is a bit of a throwback to the Arms Reach days in that I actually wrote parts of the song towards the end of Arms Reach but we broke up before I could use it. Unfortunately it seems pretty common or even “cool” to disrespect women, incite homophobia, and celebrate fundamentalist Christian views in some of today’s HC cliques. It bemuses me that people think this type of shit is cool but get all up in arms if someone says they don't like their friends’ band or something petty like that. There's like an influx of boring and pissweak dudes on message boards saying, “Sluts this, faggots that, I'm down with hardcore 4 eva so fuck you,” and that's about the extent of their ethically charismatic output. The song “Projection” relates to “Throwing Spanners” in the sense that a lot of the negative aspects we highlight and judgements we make on others are merely things we don't like about ourselves but are often too stubborn to admit. “Terror Strikes” is about the supposed “war on terror” happening in Australia an the money and propaganda wasted by the Howard government protecting us from the imminent terror attacks that will kill us all. Give me a fucking break. I think they've arrested like one dude under these “tough new anti terror laws” in the past two

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At the end of Arms Reach, the last show ended pretty dramatically at Newtown Neighbourhood Centre. Do you ever wish it ended in a way that was more like the life of Arms Reach - with the sing-alongs, big moshpit etc - or do you think it was kinda the way it had to end?

I'm glad it ended the way it did. We didn't advertise it as our last show or anything which I think was a fitting way to end the band. We thought about doing the whole self indulgent big last show at the Black Box thing but tensions and emotions within the band were too full-on to end it with a party. That show stands out in my mind as probably the most intense and emotional show I've ever played. That band meant so much to me, perhaps too much, and in the end I just broke down and cried because I couldn't take it anymore. It felt good to really let go like that at a show, and totally bittersweet being surrounded by old friends, some of whom had since become strangers who I would never really speak to again.

Pic: Rod Hunt

generation. There are bands around now that are great and stuff, but it does get a bit more stale as time goes on, unless bands can take a bit of straight-up punk and rock and try doing their own thing.

You can pay homage to older hardcore bands but still create something original.

years, most probably because he was of “Middle Eastern appearance.” “The Calling” is about my job doing youth and community work and the continued importance I place on showing compassion to others in a world where self obsession is all too common. I wanted to put forth some strong opinions on this record but at the same time balance it out with the usual horror violence, self-deprecation, and humour that we're known for - and a couple of songs about partying, haha.

What’s coming up now for The Dead Walk!? How far do you hope to take the band?

Our full-length album, We Prowl The Streets comes out July 3rd and our split 7-inch with Adelaide's Jungle Fever will be soon to follow. We haven't played for a few months but our first show back is at Hardcore 2006 on July 15th then two weeks later we're going on tour with Cleveland's Ringworm and Melbourne's Mindsnare. I'm siked like a 15-year old for that tour! Throughout August, September, and October we'll be playing everywhere including Perth, Melbourne, Adelaide, etc. to launch the album with a few shows with Madball in September too. As for how far we hope to take the band, well, by next year we hope to be sitting at the ARIAS alongside our mates in INXS.

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know a whole lot of people who can’t tell you their favourite record. They’d probably give you a vague top five on the spot and complain they weren’t prepared for this. But forget those guys. I got to interview Sérgio Dias from legendary obscuro Tropicália/ psychedelic/ garage Brazilian group Os Mutantes. I even got to ask him about how he went about making my number one of all time, the group’s 1968 debut self-titled, Os Mutantes.

I’ve recommended that album to nearly every reasonable person I’ve ever met, and then I get to speak to the guy! I was afraid. What if he’s cranky and/or doesn’t want to speak about the past, and damn, I have so many question about that album. It’s not like the information is available, like Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band – which, just for the record, sounds like a dull psychedelic playground housing boorish English late-twenties “lads” trying to play young when compared to Os Mutantes’ masterpiece.

Every bloated bearded fan-idiot owns the last outtake of George Martin’s bathroom break on Sgt. Pepper’s, all documented in clear detail, yet there’s barely any information about this Mutantes album or the sessions that bore it. Even the 1999 Omplatten Records CD re-issues (finally, after existing via bootleg for thirty one years!) neglect to mention their supreme producer and arranger, Brazilian avant-garde artist Rogério Duprat (No, he

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Amongst their youth-inspired madness, musique concrète (an early form of sampling used by the French, appearing with the invention of magnetic tape), and use of the orchestra (with thanks to producer Rogério Duprat) gave them a debut album that completely surpassed the inspiration and the experimentation of their Western psychedelic compadres. In short, it proved to be the greatest album of all time.

States Sérgio of music at the time: “All this was like a vortex where everything happened at the same time without interconnection, internet or anything like that. And it happened simultaneously all over the world. I think we were part of the psychedelic thing that happened in Brazil, but if you listen to our songs you’ll see that our psychedelism is different to Hendrix or anything like that.”

So, why didn’t Os Mutantes just want to play samba?

“Because it was too boring!” says Sérgio. “Okay, the rhythm was great but we needed more harmonies.” So what exactly inspired Os Mutantes to start playing, and to assemble this sound that will forever assure their place at the top of my collection? Sérgio explains there were two musicians in Brazil who were pushing for a musical change at the time, Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil. “It was really beautiful when Gil played “Domingo No Parque”, it just blew my mind, I said, ‘Wow, this is not simple Brazilian samba music, no, this is hip!’”

After befriending both Veloso and Gil, the group began backing them on occasion, causing all kinds of furore at Brazilian popular music festivals circa ‘67-‘68 by using

“If you listen to our songs you’ll see that our psychedelism is different to Hendrix or anything like that.” - Sergio Dias wasn’t a boring comedy album producer before involving himself with this young group, unlike such a “host” to four over-rated limelight-hogging Scouser bores).

This year Os Mutantes are reuniting in London for the first time since the early seventies, which just happened to give me a very good reason to do this interview. As it was, UNBELIEVABLY Bad ended up beating EVERY SINGLE PUBLICATION IN THE WORLD to an interview with Sérgio about this historic event. EAT THAT, MOJO! People have been trying to convince this band to reunite for a very very long time, and it’s finally happening. But why? Says Sérgio, “I believe that this had to happen, and you know everyone’s always tried to push us into something like that, but I always said, ‘When this thing would happen, [it] would happen in a natural and normal way.’ And so the Barbican Theatre started to make this three months of Tropicália thing, right? And a friend of ours, one guy, had access to a list of the kind of music that they were going to put into the festival. And he said, ‘Listen, there’s no point of doing this if you can’t put Mutantes in there.’”

Please note, dear interested reader, as mentioned, the group will be reuniting for a London show in May [LA and New York shows have just been announced]. I will be there (No, I’m not flying over especially for this, I was going to be in Europe anyway, but let’s not let that discount the enormity of how amazing the prospect of this band reuniting is).

In the Brazil of the mid-1960s a whole lot of teenage bands existed, playing the popular music of the West. You had your rock and Beatle-inspired groups all over the place, just like every other country in the world - groups like Os Baobas, The Brazilian Bitles, and the awkwardly named Analfabitles are just a few examples of what was going on. And there were other groups that followed a more “traditional” approach, following the establishment with folk-based music, samba, and bossa nova. Os Mutantes rose from this background, gaining the experience and the influence from this environment to create works that by 1967 were akin to - no, far better than - the progressing musical trends in the West - Sgt. Pepper and its shitty aftermath. You could say Os Mutantes’ involvement with the Tropicália movement cemented their work and allowed them to be more outlandish than anything they’d tried before.

electric guitars at what was considered a traditional festival.

I guess their space age costumes and electronics didn’t help much either. At the time, electric guitars couldn’t be found in Brazil, so the group had begun building their own care of Sérgio and Arnaldo’s brother, Claudio [Baptista]. Confirms Sérgio, “We didn’t have the opportunity to buy instruments; we had to build our own. So my brother, Claudio, who is a genius, he started inventing things, and so we had sounds that nobody had. I’m playing now with my old guitar and all the effects. It’s really magical the sound of this guitar, it’s totally built from scratch.” Word is Claudio built the guitar without ever laying hands on a real one. And, despite never seeing an actual fuzz-box, he built that awesome fuzz tone that characterises a lot of the Mutantes early albums.

There was also their discovery of Western rock music. Says Sérgio, “The rock ‘n’ roll bug I remember hitting when I was around five. I was always in the municipal theatre here, and every day I would listen to my mother playing, and listen to the operas, and every Sunday everybody would meet in my place, my father was also a tenor and a great poet, and so music was all around - we were bombarded by culture all over.

But rock ‘n’ roll, I think the first time I was in an aunt’s place and I heard “Jailhouse Rock” from Elvis. I stayed the entire afternoon jumping up and down on the couch and throwing the pillow up thinking it was a guitar.” And how exactly did the rock explosion cause them to meet with the Tropicálists?

Well, Mutantes were playing sessions at the time. “We met Gilberto and Caetano in a recording for Nana Caymmi, a song called, goddammit, I don’t know, I don’t remember this, I was too young!” (Nana Caymmi was somewhat involved in the Tropicália movement, but more so involved with Gilberto Gil. Yeah, like that). And how old were the band back then? “I was probably around thirteen, fourteen,” answers Sérgio.

Their public appearances using electric guitars worked very well in garnering attention, as almost everybody seemed to hate it. Before causing festival furores ala Bob Dylan and the Band at the 1965 Newport Folk Festival, Os Mutantes had already managed to upset almost every traditionalist that had previously seen them. Says Sérgio, “There were a lot of manifestations against us, and lists that everybody signed, and walkouts in the streets against the guitars; Gilberto Gil was in one of them. Yeah, can you imagine? The minister of culture!”

That’s right, Gilberto Gil is now Brazil’s minister of culture. The very same guy the government deported in 1969. But more on that later.

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So, after all this being accused of selling out to North America, the group, Gil, and emerging singer/songwriter Caetano Veloso began meeting with many other intellectuals, composers, artists and musicians to question not only traditional music values but also the entire Brazilian culture. It is along these lines that the Tropicália movement was formed. Although the simple consolidation of all these separate entities as one group has been given to us by history, a great unifier behind it all was the work of Brazilian poet Oswald de Andrade and his Manifesto Antropófago (Cannibalist Manifesto) of 1928, where he urged fellow artists to devour and regurgitate all cultural influences and styles at hand. By 1967 the movement was utilising this notion in its art, writings and music, while protesting the oppressive Brazilian government dictatorship.

Did Os Mutantes actively try to “devour cultural influences” in the pursuit of expression? I never considered it a conscious decision. During the period between 1964 and 1968, so many things filtered through from the Western popular musical sphere, along with the ever-present traditional music of Brazil, that it just happened; that’s the way they ended up sounding.

Os Mutantes: (LtoR) Arnaldo Baptista, Rita Lee, Sérgio Dias

According to Sérgio, “Oh boy, we swallowed everything.” When pressed to name more direct influences, he replies, “From the Beatles to Sly and the Family Stone, and Crosby Stills and Nash, and Peter Paul and Mary, and whoever man, from Les Paul to Barney Kessel, from Jimmy Smith to the classical. You know, it was a lot.” And how about Brazilian music? “There was Zimbo Trio, we were hanging out with the guys you know. We listened to Eduard Lobo. We listened to Gil and Caetano.”

So, was there really any kind of direct influence? “I believe it’s impossible to tell ‘Okay, we were influenced by this or that,’ it was the whole of it. It’s impossible to describe the amount of information we were bombarded with. It is IMPOSSIBLE.” What exactly did they come up with? A fantastic album filled with strange, strange originals, and totally screwed up covers. Bear with me as I try to describe this, please…

Opening track “Panis Et Circenses” (Bread and Circuses) contains a Sgt. Pepper-esque brass pop introduction and an unusual percussive clatter, building with harmonies and backing before slowing to a halt halfway through. The piece restarts with a recorder and fuzz guitar, before showing signs of the “Strawberry Fields” outro. An upbeat vocal reprise leads to everything falling apart, cutting to the sound of clinking crockery with Strauss’ “Blue Danube” playing in the background, finishing with an ascending oscillator tone. They take Jorge Ben’s traditional bossa-nova-style “Ah Minha Menina” and totally deconstruct it, throwing in a mind-burning homemade fuzz guitar. Françoise Hardie’s 1963 straight French pop song, “Premier Bonheur du Jour”, is also devoured via Western psychedelic trends; the rhythm section is substituted with bursts from a fly-spray aerosol can. Surely that gives a little idea of what I’m talking about here – totally creative inspired madness. Forget that junk that whitey was peddling across the States and the UK - this is the real stuff.

Pure, straight out of their heads. But not yet “out of their heads”.

That’s right, they hadn’t even discovered pot yet.

Producer Rogério Duprat made a huge contribution to the record, as stated by Sérgio: “He was like our George Martin. He is a genius, and the way that he writes, nobody does. So we came with ideas and he could understand us ‘cause we didn’t know how to arrange or to write so he put our ideas into the orchestra. And he’s a bloody genius the way that he did this.

We’re listening to it now and falling off our chairs when we hear what he did ‘cause now we have more depth of view of the intricacy of what he did. And he’s an outrageous person.”

Around the time of their first release, Os Mutantes appeared on the renowned collaborative album Tropicália: Ou Panis Et Circenses (1968), an album considered as the Tropicálist musical manifesto. The group provide their version of the Gil/Veloso track “Panis Et Circenses” (the same one that opens their debut LP), as well as backing many of the album’s contributors. Rogério Duprat also contributes arrangements, appearing on the album cover holding a chamber pot as a teacup.

This somewhat unified all the musical groups with a collective title, however, I never really suspected Os Mutantes took it so seriously. How much would a group of teenagers care about an essentially political movement when they were having so much fun? “Yeah, when you’re a kid you’re just indestructible,“ laughs Sérgio, “the left wing of music, the right wing of music, things we had nothing to do with, we

were just playing music. But there were many people who tried to banish us out of the music scenario because of the way we explored music, the fact that we used these guitars. They didn’t know that we built the guitars and they were made in Brazil, but they were crazy about it you know, because they thought we were American.” The impression I get is that while Mutantes were greatly affected by the military regime in Brazil, they would much rather make fun of it and everything else in their paths than follow an explicitly political route. In the meantime, they managed to put out an album far more experimental, yet superiorly listenable, to nearly all Western so-called psychedelic records.

When you’re talking about rock music from 1966-onward, especially the psychedelic side, you’re going to encounter drugs. Mostly grass and psychedelics, but who knows what was available in Brazil? I’ve always wondered how Os Mutantes created such a brilliant psychedelic noise.

Were drugs a part of the inspiration behind the first Os Mutantes album? I was really afraid to ask Sérgio. I didn’t want to offend him. I had no idea if he’d even want to talk about it, let alone actually stay on the line to me. But as it turned out, he was totally open. So, drugs?

Says Sérgio, “No, no, nothing at all. Most of the albums we didn’t have anything, we were into the music. I think we were right there. I think all those so-called mind expanders - I don’t know. I remember now looking back, I think we were much, much fresher without it than with it.” Did drugs influence Os Mutantes at all? “Yeah, we did that stupidity, unfortunately yes, because everybody was doing it and we had no idea what the fuck we were doing, and unfortunately it was the era of acid and grass and all this, and psychedelia, but I believe that our best work is before that.”

And strangely enough, I agree entirely with him. I reckon the best Os Mutantes work is pre-drugs. And no, I’m not trying to get all anti-drug on your arse, dear reader. It happens that many of the best “psychedelic” records were made by some very straight guys. Hell, even the psychedelic Ventures albums are more farout than most of the bare-foot, longhair junk that was seeping in during the late sixties.

Does Sérgio regret his creative drug use? “You don’t want to know what the universe is made of. All the drug things were out of control, there was no shamans connected to this thing, and when you deal with the spiritual side, which is basically what those drugs do, you need to have a back up, and we didn’t… it was just kids in the middle of the city. It was something that was just thrown on us without preparation and that was really bad.”

Brazil of the sixties was growing increasingly oppressive in its political regime. As Sérgio explains, “In Brazil we had this coup in 1964, and that was very bad for the country.”

On March 31st, 1964, right-wing military forces seized power in Brazil. According to the forces, the takeover would only last for a year while they straightened out the country a little. But the military regime remained in place until democratic elections were held once more in 1985. One of the main reasons for the tension was simply ideological difference between the leftist president of the period, João Goulart, and the right-wing military forces of the country, along with general political unrest across the South American continent. Amid growing repression came the concept of the televised music festival, presenting a new opportunity for public political dissent through song. Prominent examples were the TV Record Festival and the International Festival of Song. Through this relatively new mass-media vehicle of combinatorial festival and television, many of Tropicália’s forming figures were able to establish a domain within the public eye. It was through these that Os Mutantes were able to develop, although sadly, it seems that none of the footage remains.

The introduction of the televised song festival happened to spawn its own genre definition, influencing the conception of the

OS MUTANTES DISCOGRAPHY 1968: Os Mutantes The debut album. I’ve raved about it and described it in the story, so there’s not much left to say. It’s the essence of Os Mutantes. It’s their youthful exuberance distilled into their first full-length studio experience. It’s exactly what someone’s number one record of all-time should sound like.

1969: Mutantes Very much like the first album, still excellent. Less covers, as the songwriting developed. Maybe it was just the knockout of the first record that left me ever so slightly underwhelmed, but in comparison to the rest of music, this is near-perfection.

1970: Divina Comedia Ou Ando Meio Desligado Translates roughly as “Devine Comedy, or Maybe I’m Kinda Out of It.” I’ve heard people swear this is their number one, but it doesn’t quite hit up there with me, although it holds its place in the holy trinity of Os Mutantes albums.

By 1970 there was something of a turn away from psychedelia as hard rock took. This shows a touch of that, yet remains great. After this, the band changed.

Rogério Duprat no longer worked as their producer and they followed that quasi-hard rock path that turned progressive at some point in the early seventies.

1970: Rita Lee - Build Up Rita’s first solo album, backed and written with Os Mutantes. Much like a Mutantes record minus the rock.

1970: Technicolor (released 2000) Recorded on their visit to Paris in late 1970 due to record company insistence that they record an English language album.

Unfortunately, Os Mutantes were without their original equipment, so they had to make do with what they could find in new surroundings. The remastering job has totally cleaned it up, and, as far as I’m concerned, erased its charm.

1971: Jardim Eletrico This is the follow up to Divina Comedia Ou… a more progressive hard-rock venture. The band had moved quite a ways from their initial forays by this point, sounding very much of the period in 1971.

1972: E Seus Cometas No Pais Do Baurets The last album with the original Os Mutantes line-up. Rita was fired (or quit, depending on who you ask) at the beginning of the following year after breaking off her relationship with Arnaldo.

1973: ‘A’ e o ‘Z’ (released 1992) This album follows the progressive path the band had begun taking years early, remaining unreleased until 1992.

1973: Rita Lee - Hoje É O Primeiro Dia Do Resto De Sua Vida Another Rita Lee solo album, Today Is The First Day Of The Rest Of My Life was backed and written with the brothers and is a glorious throwback to the kind of albums Mutantes used to make. Rita continued to attain commercial success thoughout the late seventies and early eighties.

genre known as MPB [Música Popular Brasileira]. MPB mostly meant protest songs of a folky nature, something like the New York Greenwich Village scene of the time, although far more rooted in Brazilian issues. It is here that both Caetano Veloso and Gilberto Gil developed their music. MPB also provided something of an answer to the search for a national musical identity.

Following the worldwide popularity of bossa nova from the mid-fifties to the early sixties, young Brazilian musicians searched for a musical voice that had not become as Americanised as bossa nova had become. MPB just happened to also provide a pretty good label for what young people were doing in Brazil that wasn’t bossa nova or samba; young people like Os Mutantes.

This establishment of a “Brazilian sound” happened to tie in very nicely with Andrade’s Cannibalist Manifesto. And with the amount of musical influences bombarding Os Mutantes, they were either going to produce something horrid or something amazing. Fortunately, it was the latter. So Tropicália thrived, effectively instilling itself as a counter-culture within a military dictatorship. Where did Mutantes feel they sat amongst it all? “We provided the sounds and, I wouldn’t dare to say the internationalism of it, but we were wider in the spectrum, the musical spectrum,” says Sérgio.

However, on December 13th, 1968, President Costa e Silva signed the Fifth Institutional Act (AI-5), providing the ability for the government to stifle any oppositional activity. Furthermore, the act provided a means to suspend political and civil rights of individuals, temporarily close federal congress, and allow strict censorship over all media. Veloso responded by appearing on the television show Devine, Marvellous singing a traditional Brazilian song, holding a gun to his head.

By October 1969, consolidated military authoritarianism had reached its apex, with the right-wing militarist Emílio Médici assuming presidency. Soon after, Gil and Veloso were imprisoned for several months, before they fled to London.

Momentum within the Tropicália movement was lost as members were increasingly arrested, tortured, or reported as “disappeared”. So, where did the Tropicália faction go after this? According to Sérgio, “When they arrested Caetano and Gil they basically killed the movement - they cut the heads off.”

Things weren’t so easy for Os Mutantes either. “We had to so many times leave the place we were playing through the back door because the police were coming. My father was arrested. This thing was a reality; it wasn’t something that was happening in the corner, it was happening at our house. We were threatened so many times of being abducted by the army; we were really under a lot of pressure from the military. But when Caetano and Gil were arrested it was a huge blow because we knew that we were going to be next.

And it’s not very fun. They had to destroy the culture of Brazil to be able to dominate it, that was basically the main plan, that’s what happened to Brazil.”

With all this in the past, the band is finally reforming - albeit without Rita Lee. I figured it would be a sore asking point, but Sérgio took it in his stride. “Yeah, I spoke to her but her

grandchild was just born, she’s doing television things, she’s not really into this stuff,” he answers. “And she was very happy that this thing is happening. But I believe the main thing is a matter of schedule because to be able to regroup and redo that we have to have a full-time commitment.” Is there a chance of her joining later on? “Well, I hope so. Honestly, I hope she for sure sometimes she’s going to come and play a bit. It’s going to be sad if she doesn’t.”

Hopefully the band can resolve its long unresolved differences – Rita was, according to her side of the story, fired

by Arnaldo around the same time their yearlong marriage disintegrated. He himself succumbed to substance abuse, ending up in a psychiatric hospital. But,

according to Sérgio he’s doing fine now.

“Arnaldo’s great!

He’s doing fucking great, it’s outrageous.

We were playing, sitting down passing the vocals of “Contor de Mambo” and I was in tears. In fifteen days me and my brother were here in my place and we were playing, and the drummer, Dinho, who didn’t play for ages, came and sat in and everything was perfect, like if nothing had changed.” Dinho played on most Mutantes releases from the second album onward, and hadn’t touched the drums in twenty years before this reunion.

A question for me (putting aside the fact this whole damn interview was an utterfly selfish foray), what exactly are they going to play at the reunion? Laughs Sérgio, “We’re gonna play all the impossible ones! We’re gonna play “Dom Quixote”, we’re gonna play “Dia 36”, we’re gonna play “A Minha Menina”, we’re gonna play all the stuff! We have about twenty one songs we’re rehearsing.” Will they be able to replicate the strings and horns? Of course! The venue has its own orchestra.

And what’s Sérgio’s take on it all?

“Mutantes is riding again!”

Oh boy.

1974: Tudo Foi Feito Pelo Sol Apparently Os Mutantes’ biggest selling album in Brazil, however Arnaldo doesn’t appear on it; he’d left the band to release his solo album the same year.

1974: Arnaldo Baptista - Lóki?

Arnaldo makes his drug-addled solo album, with appearances by Rita Lee and Rogério Duprat. It’s pretty good too!

1976: Mutantes Ao Vivo A final live album for the band.

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– usually to the point where making money is a highly unlikely prospect.

Politics can be a powerful emotional tool from which a rock ‘n’ roll band can draw inspiration and with which it can excite an audience. But ultimately, it divides people more than it unites them. It’s fertile ground for a band to explore, but it requires an acknowledgment that for as much awareness that can be spread amongst those willing to listen, there is always going to be a certain amount of scorn from those who don’t care to hear the truth as told differently from their own version.

Politics and controversy make comfortable bedfellows. (International) Noise Conspiracy singer Dennis Lyxzén knows all about that. Lyxzén has been surrounded by controversy since the days of his previous group, the near mythological hardcore outfit Refused, who were virtually scrutinized out of existence in the late-nineties.

Soon after Refused’s break up, Lyxzén formed The (International) Noise Conspiracy and was admonished by large factions of disapproving Refused fans who did not appreciate his new group’s lighter, poppier, sixties-influenced retro garage rock sound. Later, Lyxzén released a couple of solo MOR pop records under the moniker The Lost Patrol and was admonished by virtually everyone in the known universe for crimes against rock. When T(I)NC toured Australia in 2003 for the Livid Festival, Lyxzén enraged members of the Dropkick Murphys by expressing antiAmerican sentiments from the stage. More recently - following yet another onstage outburst - he and the band were attacked in a letter from Jason Pettigrew, editor of US teen punk magazine Alternative Press, who called into question their ability to pen a song “as stirring as any of My Chemical Romance’s singles.”

The biggest controversy, however, has surrounded the worldwide release of T(I)NC’s third and latest album, Armed Love. And for once it wasn’t even the band’s fault. The story goes that a deal stuck with uber-producer Rick Rubin in 2003 meant that he would produce Armed Love in return for production points and the right to release it in all territories except Europe through his own American Recordings label. Tragically, though, just as Armed Love was ready to be released, Rubin pulled out of his previous distribution deal and suspended all new releases while he shopped around for a new distributor.

Armed Love was released in Europe on July 13th 2004 by T(I)NC’s label Burning Heart Records, but didn’t see the light of day in America until November 11th 2005 after Rubin had sewn up a new distro arrangement with Warners.

While T(I)NC continued to tour Europe and the US (despite the fact that the album had not been released there), they were not able to get back to Australia to capitalize on the awesome word-ofmouth that their maiden 2003 visit had generated.

In April 2006, however, having finally secured Armed Love’s Australian release through Warner Music, the band were happily flying south once more.

Just prior to arrival Lyxzén gave me the following insights into Rick Rubin’s business dealings, Jason Pettigrew’s letter-writing skills, and the stupidity of pushing a political agenda with your music.

CUTTING THROUGH RED TAPE The (International) Noise Conspiracy.

Dennis Lyxzén interview by Che Macrae.

Pic: Glen E. Friedman

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cting pissed off at the state of the world is a corporate rock band’s licence to print money. Ask Green Day: angst is where the payola is; diet-politics for a sedate generation more concerned with consumption. Incubus, Yellowcard, basically a whole buttload of softcock rock bands have gotten good mileage out of hurling a “Fuck Bush” or two lamely in the direction of The White House.

But there’s a certain line you just know bands like that are not going to cross, no matter how fucked the government gets.

On the other hand you have Sweden’s The (International) Noise Conspiracy, who attempt to navigate the dangerous precipice between staunch political ideology and commercial success

So his plan to break you as his new band was fucked up by his distribution deal hassles, right?

It’s an unfortunate thing when you get stuck in between something that’s totally out of your control. I think everybody wanted the record to come out when it was supposed to come out, when we had some sort of momentum, but it was out of everybody’s hands. And I think Rick realised that it might hurt our record, but he also realised that this deal was not just about our band but the entire future of his label. It’s frustrating to just sit there and watch lawyers fighting over something that’s out of your hands when all you want to do is play music.

I mean, of course we’re bummed that it came out late. In Europe it came out when it was supposed to come out and did really good, but the record came out in November in the States and hasn’t really picked up because a lot of journalists heard the record two years ago and are like, “Yeah, why would I wanna write about it now?” So it’s weird for us because we did five tours of the States under the assumption that the record was gonna come out. Then the record never came out. We just did that over and over again. We’ve done two tours there since the record has been out, so we’ve done seven or eight trips to the States on this record. We’re in a position where we could soldier on and just go back touring the States another two times but then we could risk losing Europe because it wouldn’t be another year and a half till we make a new record. Or, our other option is to do Australia, Canada, a bit of South America and then make a new record - so I think we’re going to go with that.

I imagine the live shows are different than when Australia last saw you in 2003, because this record sounds quite different.

No, I don’t think so. I think if you saw us a couple of years ago and you see us now, it’s the same deal - a lot of guitars, a lot of sweat and jumping around. This record translates really really well into the live environment. Where a lot of people might think it’s… not overproduced, but maybe not as raw as the old records, when you hear these songs in the context of the live situation everyone is like, “Oh okay, now I get it.” It’s one of those deals. The past two years of playing together has been really good, the songs just feel right.

Pic: Glen E. Friedman

Was it an ultimatum Rick Rubin gave you, like sign to my label or I won’t produce your record?

Yeah, more or less. It wasn’t a gun to our head kinda deal but it was a situation where Rick really wanted to work with us, like, he was the one who initiated everything and got in touch with us. See, one of the deals with being a great producer is not only to produce Johnny Cash and Red Hot Chili Peppers records, but also discovering new bands. And I think that Rick had the idea of us being his new band, so he was like, “I want to work with you guys and I want you on my label.” Because I think that he figured that if he wanted to work with us and we wanted to work with him and we were going through Epitaph (Burning Heart), there was no real way we could afford it, you know what I mean? But since it was Rick’s label he basically worked for a production percentage – he didn’t get paid to do this job.... and he never will!

“I think you should reach for the sky; you might hit somewhere a little bit above where you are right now” - Dennis Lyxzen

You admit the album sounds a little polished compared to your older stuff, does it take more guts to do that than to make a raw garage record?

We have that punk rock background that we come from but I think we have a pretty healthy disrespect for musical rules. And I think that’s a good thing to have, and that’s something we’ve brought from punk rock.

We’re not afraid to try things. Also, you’ve got to realise that while for some people this might not be such a raw record, we’ve never done anything like this before.

It’s always about your own challenges and your own accomplishments. There might have been tons of rock records that weren’t that raw but for us this is our first time and this is our first experience making a record that sounds like this and as a musician and as a creative person you have to try new things and try different ways and see what happens.

How did Rick Rubin enhance what you already had?

We wrote a bunch of songs and we came to the States… we met Rick twice before we actually came over and worked with him, and it felt really comforting. He’s a very good producer. He made us play very relaxed. You think about going to LA to make a record in this big studio with this big hotshot producer, but the thing is, he made us feel very comfortable, we were not nervous, we played really well. All the guitar, bass and drums are all live. The band just went in and basically played it till it sounded good. The great thing about Rick is that he sits in the control room and we play the song and he just looks out and goes, “That was great! One more try.” He just made us try even harder, made us play even better.

The sound has progressed away from the sixties retro stuff the band started out doing, is that just in the name of taking it somewhere?

Yeah. I think like anytime you’re a band or a musician or someone who wants to create, there’s no sense in

repeating yourself. No matter how much we love garage punk or punk rock or whatever, there’s always a need to try out new things. It’s one of those natural things that just happens. As a musician you rarely sit down and decide to evolve, it just happens out of curiosity, trying something new. Also, if you look at rock history, we did go from Small Faces to Humble Pie, if you catch my drift.

A pivotal song for me is “Black Mask”, which was one of your early songs that got a makeover for Armed Love. The song has changed, but the meaning and the politics are the same.

I think we needed to revisit that old idea about the black mask. But politically there is a different approach to this record. Our political motives and our political agenda has not changed, but I’ve been writing political lyrics for fifteen years and you need to try different angles and different approaches. So I think what we tried to do this time was try and take a more, dare I say, heartfelt approach to politics. Not so intellectual and academic, more just y’know, “This is how it feels like to live in a fucked-up Capitalist society.” I think that’s a bit of a difference to the last couple of records, which have been more of an analysis of Capitalism; this is more an emotional expose of what Capitalism does. In terms of my concepts for where we’re going, I think it’s going to be a mix of the more personal take on the resistance against Capitalism and also a bit more back to the more intellectual stuff. I think it’s good if you can write political songs that are heartfelt and that people can recognise themselves in, but I think one of the risks of Armed Love is that if you are not aware that we are an anti-Capitalist band then you might not pick up on that as strongly as I sometimes wish. Because it is a more general kinda take on politics. So I think on the new stuff we’ll have that emotional attachment where we can make people relate to what we’re talking about, but also be really radical about it.

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“If wo you rld ar pol e st itic up s, t id e her nou e’s gh alw to g ays et u goi p on ng st to b age e p wit eop h a le w mi ho crop are hon not e an exc d s ited tart abo tryi ut i ng t t.” o t - D alk enn abo is L ut yxz en

“Black Mask” is probably the “Smash It Up” or the “Up For Sale” of the new record, that song that gets out to a bigger audience and hopefully draws people back to the other side.

It’s one of those things that no matter how much we sit around and talk about our music being a political vehicle, we love music and we love to write a good song. And my favourite political bands were great political bands because they wrote great songs about politics. Y’know Crass, they were super political, not that great of a band. But then you have someone like The Clash or Billy Bragg that actually write great songs and can put great political ideas into great tunes. That’s kinda our push: we love music and we want to write great music, but we want to put it in a context where we feel we can do something that makes sense. If you shoot over people’s heads they might not get into it but if you simplify it too much they might not get into it either. That’s where Billy Bragg really changed my view on how to write about politics when I discovered him ten years ago or whatever. I was just like, “Holy shit, here’s a guy who sings about politics and you feel it right in your heart.” That’s why we play music. I’m not an academic, I’m not a journalist, I’m not a politician. You play music to be able to relate to people on an emotional level and that’s why I love about talking about politics because it’s something that people relate to on an emotional level. And the great part about talking about politics as a musician is that it doesn’t always have to make sense if you know what I mean. Because as I said, I’m not a politician and I’m not an academic, so one of the great things about being an artist is that you can use a powerful language or you can use an emotional language to get a point across. That’s something I really love about music. It doesn’t have to be 100% waterproof, it doesn’t have to be totally coherent, but you speak from your heart.

Are there things you say in songs that you couldn’t live up to in life?

Of course, but that’s one of those things where you live your life as a Communist or a Socialist or an Anarchist or whatever in a Capitalist world. So you sing about things that, I don’t want to say you couldn’t live up to, but maybe right now they’re kind of impossible. That’s what I love about art, you take whatever you feel and you amplify it ten times or maybe twenty times to get the point across.

If you get involved in politics or a political group there is so much compromise, you have to compromise and adjust yourself to a realistic worldview. But growing up as punk rockers, a realistic worldview is not part of the agenda. So that’s why I think you should reach for the sky; you might hit somewhere a little bit above where you are right now.

Do you find people are cynical about your politics?

Sometimes. It’s one of those deals where, all in all, when we play a lot of people are very excited about us talking about politics. But then there are also the more cynical people, the more bitter people, and I guess that’s kinda sad. It’s kinda sad that there are people who are 24-years old who are real bitter and cynical and they don’t want to believe in anything and they think we’re a bunch of naive dreamers. I’d rather be a naïve dreamer who actually believes in something than a cynical 24-year old who believes in nothing. I think it’s sad but I also think a lot of that stems from people’s insecurity about politics and because they’ve got kind of a guilty conscience. Like they know the whole thing about if you’re not part of the solution then you’re part of the problem, but instead of taking a stand and doing something they’d prefer to be cynical. There’s a generation like that that never really take

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anything seriously, because if you say something that you mean then you might have to back it up and a lot of people are not willing to back up what they’re saying.

What’s the guy from APs problem?

I don’t know. You’d have to ask him. In all honesty, that’s not my problem. He sent us that letter after the show and we felt like we didn’t have to comment on it; the letter speaks for itself. It’s one of those things where if he wasn’t the chief editor of Alternative Press I’m sure he would be fired by now. But then again, if no one would get upset by the things we say, if no one would think we were a bunch of idiots, then we’d be doing something wrong. Yes, sometimes when some skinheads from Boston want to kick your arse it’s not the most comfortable situation you can be in, but it goes with the territory. If you are stupid enough to get up onstage with a microphone and start trying to talk about world politics, there’s always going to be people who are

THE (INTERNATIONAL) NOISE CONSPIRACY DISCOGRAPHY 2000: “Smash It Up” single 2000: Survival Sickness 2001: “Capitalism Stole My Virginity” single 2001: A New Morning, Changing Weather 2001: “The Reproduction Of Death” single 2002: “Up For Sale” single 2002: The First Conspiracy (early compilation) 2002: Bigger Cages, Longer Chains EP 2003: Live At Oslo Jazz Festival (live) 2004: “Black Mask” single 2004: Armed Love 2004: “A Small Demand” single

not excited about it. That’s the way it is. It kinda goes with what we’re doing. The crazy thing about this AP debacle is that it can take so little to make someone that upset. That’s kinda crazy. Because nothing that he said that we said was true, he wasn’t even at the show. It’s just funny that people can be so pissed off about things.

Maybe everybody at Warner is not too excited about the prospect of us ever being in AP again, but that’s just what happens. Maybe we touched a little sore spot there when we mentioned something about the conformity of the American music?

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Do you care what impression people have of you or is it just one of things that’s out of your hands?

It is out of our hands but we try to carry ourselves in a certain way, try to do things that back up what we are, what we do, what we sing about. But ultimately it is out of our hands what people think about us. If people think we’re a bunch of sell-outs then yes, we probably are from their perspective. If people think we’re the most radical band in rock then yeah, maybe we are. It’s one of those things where we’re living in a post-modern society – things are as real as they appear to you. That’s one of the nice things about when we started Noise Conspiracy compared to everybody’s previous bands, we just said, “Fuck it, let’s not be part of a scene, let’s not be part of a certain clique or a certain sub-culture, let’s just play music and do it our own way and if people like it, that’s fine, if people don’t like it, that’s fine too.” A lot of people tend to worry about fitting into a scene or fitting into a certain group. I know I’ve been in bands that did that and it’s frustrating, and it’s limiting to your creativity I think.

Your last band Refused seemed to grow to despise your audience…

Yeah, we had issues.

Well the Refused Is Fucking Dead documentary is out soon, I just saw an advance copy the other day, why did you agree to be a part of that project now, after all this time?

‘Cos a friend asked me and he was making the movie. I don’t know; it just felt like one of those cathartic experiences. We got asked to do it and we actually sat down and talked about everything for hours on end and it just felt like a good thing to do, kind of like a definite ending to it. When we broke up we wrote this angry manifesto – it is a good manifesto I must admit – but the whole experience of doing this DVD was probably

Not a lot of bands put that much reality and personality into their product.

Us and Metallica.

But you didn’t need to pay someone forty grand a week to sit in the middle of you.

That’s true.

I can kinda sense you don’t want to talk about Refused, is that just because you’re used to not talking about it?

Yeah, I mean, if I do interviews and, like now, we just get into it and start talking about it that’s cool, but I tend not to talk about it in interviews. Because it’s part of the past and it’s something that did happen, but it was eight years ago. Actually, it’s probably easier to talk about eight years down the line than it was two years down the line. Sometimes it’s just weird to talk about it.

The life and death of the group is such a complex thing and I think the silence has added to the interest in the band.

We should never under-estimate mythmaking, or myth building. We did break up and there were a thousand theories about why we broke up and how it happened, so it’s definitely something that feeds people’s interest.

And I have to say I don’t think this movie really… … Goes all the way?

It definitely doesn’t go all the way. I was there, believe me, there is some shit that didn’t make the movie. I mean, it exposes a lot of the stuff that happened but I still think it’s a bit mythical.

stuff we did then and it seems like we were basically trying to alienate everybody. The last two years it was like we were just trying to piss everybody off. And the great thing is that we failed, we failed miserably. We made that last record [The Shape Of Punk To Come] giving the finger to the world: “Fuck these people, fuck everyone!” But then everyone loved it and we were like, “Wait, this isn’t what’s supposed to happen!”

So now the movie is out will you be more comfortable talking about Refused?

We’ll see. I’m a pretty stubborn guy.

Was it hard to relive some of that stuff?

Some parts of it were, some parts of it were fun.

You know when we get together, because we’re all friends, when we get together and talk about those days it’s a lot of laughs, it’s a lot of, “What the fuck were we thinking?” I think back now on a lot of the The (International) Noise Conspiracy: (LtoR) Lars Strömberg, Ludwig Dahlberg, Inge Johansson, Dennis Lyxzén

Pic: Glen E. Friedman

more for ourselves. It gave us an opportunity to sit down and talk about everything that happened and discuss things that some of the people involved didn’t deal with at the time of the break up. It’s been gnawing away at some people so it was good for everyone to sit down and talk about everything. And I think it’s a beautiful movie.

REFUSED ARE FUCKING Refused. Kristofer Steen interview by Danger Coolidge.

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ue dramatic music] Refused broke up in 1998. Four Swedish hardcore kids at their wits’ end mid-tour in America; disillusioned with their band, their fans, the “scene” and one another. Disbanding seemed a much better option than prolonging the misery.

They played their last gig on the 6th of October ‘98.

It was in someone’s basement in Harrisonburg, Virginia. Four songs in, cops raided the joint. The sparsely assembled audience, at least partly aware of the significance of the moment, began to chant, “Rather be alive,” a line from the last song Refused ever performed together, “Rather Be Dead.” But for the four key members of the band - Dennis Lyxzèn, David Sandström, Kristofer Steen and Jon Brännström - there was nothing but an overriding sense of relief.

Upon their return to Sweden, they issued a few parting words in the form of an angry manifesto referred to as The Final Communiqué, a sort of last will and testament to douse speculation surrounding the split and extinguish whatever vague hopes existed for a fast reconciliation.

In reality the document explained very little, yet its staunch idealism and aggressive tone made it an important piece in the complex mythological puzzle that envelopes Refused to this day.

In addition to demanding that every publication burn all their old photos of group, the manifesto stated: “We will not give interviews to stupid reporters who still haven’t got anything of what we are all about.

We will never play together again and we will never try to glorify or celebrate what was.”

Since that day the members have barely spoken a word on the subject.

Not in public, and not amongst themselves. But far from relegating the band to an afterlife of total obscurity, the prolonged silence has been yet another factor in the ongoing proliferation of the Refused cult. Sketchy details about their early years, the romantic Marxist rhetoric spun in their lyrics and liner notes, the suddenness of their demise, the ambiguity

Why did you decide to make this film now, after all this time?

I didn’t really have a specific good reason for making it.

The idea to make the film came when Refused still existed. I had an idea to make a documentary in ’98, so it kinda took a while. But I think it was in 2003, Burning Heart just asked me if I wanted to do it. And I thought about it and if there were a few challenges involved, like making an actual film and not just promotional tool, then I would be up for it. That was three years ago or something like that.

created by the post-split silence - all these peripherals continue to fan the growing interest in their amazing body of work. But take all that shit away, and the music is still the reason Refused have been elevated to such legendary status in such a short space of time (and let’s face it, the video clip for “New Noise” hasn’t hurt either).

The influence of Refused – and in particularly their magnum opus, The Shape Of Punk To Come (1998) – can be heard in an incalculable number of today’s hardcore, metal and punk bands. The timelessness of what they created continues to draw in younger and younger fans, and their catalogue continues to shift at an increasing rate with not a scrap of promotion to assist it. There was obviously a strong sense of irony behind the appropriation and circumvention of Ornette Coleman’s classic 1959 album title, The Shape Of Jazz To Come, but the fact that Refused’s swansong album has indeed proven to be “the shape of punk to come” has either doubled the irony or negated it completely. One way or the other, the world is still trying to catch up.

Seven and a half years after their flaccid finale in a Harrisonburg basement, and a new documentary, Refused Are Fucking Dead, shatters the band’s self-imposed silence once and for all. Directed by guitarist Kristofer Steen, the film delves into Refused’s final days as the four members explore the frustrations that led to the disbandment of the group mere months after delivering what has grown to become one of the most influential albums of the past decade.

Though the film is obviously a blatant breach of Refused's previously stated mandate to never glorify or celebrate what was, they have also decided to start giving interviews to stupid reporters again, so we’re prepared to forgive them on both counts. With an emphasis on “stupid”, UNBELIEVABLY Bad put in a request for an interview with guitarist and Refused Are Fucking Dead director Kristofer Steen, which was duly granted. This is the best we could come up with. [fade music. cue transcript]

Although I knew that was true I thought, I’m going to do it the opposite way, I’m going to make the most subjective film I can, I’ll make it from the point-of-view of the band. So you get not just an outside perspective but you get a pointof-view from within the band and I felt I had to use the fact that I was in the band as some kind of strength. Y’know, it’s pretty hard for anyone to be subjective about any material. I didn’t think me being in the band was a problem, I thought of it as a good thing.

Did you know the kind of film you wanted to make or were you acting on instinct?

It was mostly instinct. Like, at the start I just had to go through all the crappy material I had at home, old tapes, piles of Refused shows, just go through it all. And I did a few interviews as well. I found bits and pieces and I listened to that stuff and I’d find the bits where my interest peaked and I’d go, okay I’m gonna focus even more on these things. So then I’d do more interviews and focus more on the things I

Why did the film take so long to complete, there seemed to be a few delays?

I just didn’t know what kind of film I wanted to make and that’s the reason. I made a version after a year and it just sucked too bad and I had to start over.

Did you feel like the former members might benefit from going over all the issues that led to the break-up?

I’m a little too cynical to think of things in those terms, like closure and those sorts of things. But I think that’s exactly how it was. Because it wasn’t something that we had discussed that much, we hadn’t really talked about it. When the band broke up we just stopped talking about those things. So I think it probably was kinda cathartic for the other guys, and for myself too, just to discuss everything. But I don’t know, I’m not entirely sure how the other guys felt about it. But it seems like it was a good experience for everyone.

So does it feel like closure, like you got to say to people what you have wanted to say or heard what you needed to hear for all these years?

The experiences weren’t so brutal. I can think of other experiences much more traumatic. I guess this was like any other kind of break-up, after eight years you’d think we should have been able to move on. But with that said, I think it was a good thing to go through.

The film has more of a personal feel than your average band documentary.

Yeah, well people were saying that this was going to be a big problem, “You were part of the band and this is going to be difficult for you to have an objective approach.”

“I DIDN’T WANT TO DESTROY THE MYTHMAKING MACHINE. I STILL WANTED SOME SORT OF AMBIGUITY.” – KRISTOFER STEEN tjyuz.gjwf

So when you joined Refused you thought they were a bit generic?

I’m not saying that I joined with all these radical ideas. I thought their music was amazing. In my opinion they were like better than The Beatles or something. It’s just that in retrospect it sounds like … it sounds like what it is; a bunch of kids, precocious kids maybe, but still, a bunch of kids playing punk rock. When I joined Refused I just wanted to play the songs that they played. To me it was perfection, why would you want to change a thing? The changing of the sound was a natural progression for everyone. It wasn’t like they were a generic band and I came along and changed everything.

Songs To Fan The Flames Of Discontent was very aggressive, what were you thinking making that album?

I guess we changed to a different gear with that record. I think we took a little longer to write the record and so it was a little more focused. Usually we would write the songs in one month or two months and that’s not a long time to make good records but that’s the way we usually did it. I still think that album is cool. We were young. We were like nineteen or twenty when we did it. It didn’t seem like a big deal then but now I’m like, “Holy shit!”

wanted and I just kept doing it that way and I guess that’s the aesthetic of the film. The themes of the film came gradually. I didn’t know in 2003 that it was going to be this way.

It’s probably lucky that you shot some stuff in ’98, like the footage of you guys mucking around outside the tour van with the audio of people discussing the last show.

I’m glad I shot some stuff. I didn’t shoot a lot; I didn’t shoot a lot at all. So it’s cool how much was actually useful.

It was kinda difficult because I didn’t have that much material from ’98. I should’ve shot even more back then. But that also poses a challenge and you have to be creative and come up with different solutions.

Were you determined not to be too factual with it, because it still leaves a lot left unexplained.

Exactly. There’s not a whole lot of information at all. And that was something I consciously wanted to avoid, that sort of information bombing. I had all kinds of rockumentaries or movies about bands in my head thinking about what I didn’t like about those films. And one thing is I don’t care for that much information, you know what I mean? It also depends on what kind of tone you want the film to have. The tone I wanted couldn’t deal with that much information because that would kill the flow of the film. I wasn’t sure how people were going to react to that because I don’t give them that much. You don’t know a lot about how the band started and blah blah blah, all the members that came and went. To me it’s not that interesting and I just assume it’s not going to be that interesting for other people either. But you never know.

REFUSED DISCOGRAPHY 1993: This Is The New Deal EP 1994: This Just Might Be The Truth 1994: Pump The Brakes EP 1995: Everlasting EP 1995: Refused Loves Randy split w/ Randy 1996: Rather Be Dead EP 1996: Songs To Fan The Flames of Discontent 1997: The EP Compilation 1997: The Demo Compilation 1998: The New Noise Theology EP 1998: The Shape Of Punk To Come 1999: [TEXT] TEXT 2006: Refused Are Fucking Dead DVD

Songs To Fan The Flames… is amazing.

It’s rare that I hear someone praise that record. I kinda like it, I think it’s got strange production but I think we wanted to change the sound from what it had been on the other records. We wanted to do something drastic but I think it might be a little weak in terms of the guitar sounds.

What was your popularity like around that time, ’96?

That was the peak, we never got bigger than that, of course, I’m talking about when the band actually existed.

Shape… was sloping, it was actually heading a little downhill popularity-wise. It was kinda the same, but y’know there were not as many people at the shows and it wasn’t as enthusiastic a vibe as it had been touring on Songs To Fan… So Songs To Fan… was kind of a big thing for us.

We were big here in Sweden at that point - that was probably our high point. And we were probably tightest as a live band too. We toured a lot for that record, we probably toured too much. We toured Germany three times in the same year, which is never a good idea if you’re tired already. So we toured Germany for the third time and when we came home we were kind burned out. And it wasn’t really going anywhere. Y’know, it was a pretty successful year but we still weren’t going anywhere and nothing was really happening.

So we felt like we had to focus and make the best record we could possibly make. So, once we’d done that with Shape Of Punk To Come and it felt like it was going to go downhill even more once it was released, it was just like someone deflating a tire or something, it was a bad feeling. And I guess it’s childish, but I think we got upset with our audience. The poor people that actually showed up at our shows, we got pissed off at them! It’s kind of a strange reaction. It doesn’t make a lot of sense, I know, but we were just fed up and we had no business being on tour - it was just a bad move.

“POSSIBLY WE HUNG OUT TOO MUCH AND DID TOO MUCH TOGETHER. WE DIDN’T REALLY HAVE MUCH OF A LIFE.” – KRISTOFER STEEN

The film mirrors the ambiguity surrounding the band, the silence that has contributed to the myth.

That’s cool, I didn’t want to destroy the myth-making machine. But that’s what happens when you give people too much information. Well it depends on the actual information. But I didn’t want that to happen. I still wanted some sort of ambiguity.

So how did you come to join Refused originally?

I was still in high school and one of my best friends at the time joined Refused on guitar, and it was a few years later that I joined. I knew of the guys that played in the band, but I didn’t know them personally. But then I just started going to shows and I loved it, I thought the band was amazing. I thought they were great but at the same time they were kind of a generic straight-edge band, like a Gorilla Biscuits type

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of band. They were outspoken politically and that definitely attracted me to them, but again, it was really basic stuff like, “We’re against racism,” it wasn’t very complex. There wasn’t any Marxist theories or anything like that. But y’know, it still felt powerful and it felt relevant at the time.

Were you immersed in the straight-edge hardcore scene?

I was definitely a part of the straight-edge scene. I thought it was the perfect way of life. It totally fit the way I saw the world. Straight-edge at the time was probably the best thing that had happened in my life. High school, as it is for many people, was just a pain in the arse. You feel frustrated all the time and so for me the straight-edge scene and Refused and all the other bands came as a big rescue. It was a big deal; it was a really big deal for me personally. I’m talking about the way I thought about straight-edge then, I mean, I’m not straight-edge now.

There was a solid straight-edge hardcore scene in your hometown, Umeå, right?

Considering how small Umeå is, it was huge - I mean it was almost like it was mainstream all of a sudden. All of a sudden this counter-culture became mainstream. It’s a pretty strange thing to see happen - probably not that common.

It spread to other cities as well but not as big as in Umeå.

It was always the thing to see bands and play in bands yourself - it was really inspirational for a time.

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Do you find it ironic that The Shape Of Punk To Come sells better now than it did then?

It’s ironic but it’s cool, it’s a good irony. But I just feel like it was a different band. Like, from my perspective the band that actually became successful and influential was a different band altogether. It doesn’t seem like I was a part of that band. I remember the weird shows in Germany that we played that weren’t so great; that’s part of the Refused I remember. That great band that people talk about, it’s hard to feel a part of that. Maybe it sounds stupid but I feel detached from the success because it came later on. I think it’s cool, but it’s hard to take it personally. It’s difficult to phrase it without sounding ungrateful because it’s amazing that people are influenced by Refused, but it’s hard to take it to heart.

Were you trying to piss off sections of your audience with Shape Of Punk To Come?

We were always conscious of our audience, but we didn’t do anything to piss anyone off. I mean, when you listen to the record, it’s constructed to please an audience, there’s something happening all the time. We were trying to engage an audience from the stage and so we wrote those songs hoping they would make people go berserk in front of the stage. We always had an audience in mind when we were writing the songs and you can tell, there’s not a lot of meandering ten-minute shoegazer wall-of-sound things, there’s hooks all over and it’s tightly arranged and it’s geared towards getting people to go berserk. That’s all we did. That’s how we wrote music, always with an audience in mind. And that’s also why we got so disappointed when it didn’t work.

Seems like people were listening to the record instead of coming to the shows. I don’t think that’s what we had in mind.

We didn’t think people were going to sit at home and listen to the records, I don’t think that thought ever occurred to us. So we really wanted to engage an audience - hopefully we could get a bigger audience - but the most important thing was to engage the one we had, to please them basically.

Why did you issue the manifesto, The Final Communiqué, after the band split?

The manifesto wasn’t so much a band thing it was Dennis (Lyxzén), the singer, who wrote it. He’s a guy who loves writing manifestos. He’s a manifesto connoisseur. It was entirely written by him and in fact we didn’t want it published anywhere. We didn’t want any manifesto, we just wanted it to end. But with that said it’s like I didn’t really mind, like I wasn’t angry about it or anything. But now I think it’s amazing that people still refer to it because I thought it was the silliest thing I’d ever read. So all of a sudden people are going, “Y’know, it says in the manifesto…” It’s such a stupid little thing and now I have to explain myself like, “How come you made a film when it breaks the

conditions of the manifesto?” I mean, it was very serious for Dennis, no doubt about that, but it wasn’t like we always lived the way we talked about things.

In hindsight do you think you took things a little too seriously?

I focused the film on a certain aspect of the band. It wasn’t like we didn’t have fun. A few people have asked me that question and it’s made me realise that of course people are going to think that way when they see it but I didn’t really reflect on that when I was making it. But it was good times most of the time. Yeah, we took it really seriously. I think a lot of bands probably do that; take their bands way too seriously.

But one thing that made us different from most other bands is that even if we weren’t playing we would still be hanging out. We would be on tour for two months then come back for a week at home and you’d think we’d all want to hang out with other people but no, we’d meet up within a day and hang out. Possibly we hung out too much and did too much together. We didn’t really have much of a life.

After the break-up, you and David and Jon worked on the TEXT album, why did you three stick together?

The TEXT CD, Dennis was supposed to be a part of that too. That was actually supposed to be the next Refused CD, as crazy as that may sound. I think the TEXT thing came out of the attitude we got from touring The Shape Of Punk… record, when people didn’t care for it that much. It’s a bad attitude basically. I think people would’ve talked about Refused in a very different way had we released that. Like, I don’t think it’s a bad record, it’s just really weird and I understand that it doesn’t work for too many people. But there was definitely a split between Dennis and the rest of the band that point. But with that said it wasn’t like the rest of us collaborated a lot

afterwards either. Everything just faded away. I think there was an idea the three of us were going to do something afterwards but we just lost the enthusiasm and everyone did different things, which was probably a good idea.

What did you do after that fizzled?

I moved to America for a few years. I was really fed up with Refused and everything that had happened and I just felt like I needed a break from everything that was associated with the band. I lived in LA for almost three years and I didn’t make any music, I stopped altogether after that whole ordeal. I studied film for one and a half years and I just led a really strange life in Southern California for a bunch of years, then I came home and about a year after coming home I decided to finish the film. This was my first film and probably my last documentary I would say. It’s too much hassle.

Dennis has said it’s easier to talk about all this stuff eight years down the line than it was two years down the line, what do you think?

Yeah sure, I mean, that’s how I feel too. Not that it was this big trauma or anything but it’s easier to talk about it since we’ve talked about it between the former band members.

We’ve spoken about it, so just talking amongst the band makes it easier to talk in interviews because it feels like our voices are synched. I think it’s been most tough for Dennis because he meets a lot of people when he’s touring with (International) Noise Conspiracy and he gets asked about it all the time so I can understand that it gets really tiring talking about it. But at the same time, when you talk about it, it actually de-mystifies the thing a bit and I think it will ultimately cause people to talk about it less. I mean, I don’t want to belittle the thing, but it was only a band. I get the impression people view it as something a lot more mysterious than it was.

“I DON’T WANT TO BELITTLE THE THING, BUT IT WAS ONLY A BAND. I GET THE IMPRESSION PEOPLE VIEW IT AS SOMETHING A LOT MORE MYSTERIOUS THAN IT WAS.” – KRISTOFER STEEN

Refused: (LtoR) Dennis Lyxzén, Jon Brännström, Kristofer Steen, David Sandström

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Jobddvsbuf!De!Sfwjfxt Dbvujpo;!Ebohfs!Dpodfousbufe #IQTCRJQDKE 0QUGDNGGF PC P To rp e do / ANBRX ( Hyd r a H e ad / Riot )

The second double-three-inch reissue we’ve reviewed in as many issues (the last being Holy Molar), this cute set of twin panic attacks from Agoraphobic Nosebleed, if turned up loud enough, will shatter your nerves and warp the skins on your eardrums. Originally released as a rare piece of six-inch vinyl, ‘99’s PCP Torpedo gets the zeros and ones treatment and hits CD for the first time in cute three-inch format. Obstreperous electronic grind terror made by a pack of extreme metalloving psychos with a sampler who treat minutelong songs like hyper-kinetic epics, the second disc is a compendium called ANBRX featuring a tumultuous assortment of harsh ANb remodeling work by JK Broadrick (Godflesh, Jesu, Final), James Plotkin (OLD, Phantomasher, Khanate), Merzbow and some other noisy people.

#NRU S/ T E P

( ww w . m yspace. com/ alps alps )

I was overjoyed when I got this CD-R from Alps in the mail. The handmade artwork is love personified. It features a simple photocopied cover and inlay card inside a jewel case. The inside of the cover has masses of tiny hand-scrawled lyric text, while the side facing outward is blank white. On the outside front of the jewel case is the artists’ name, Alps, which has been applied using a stencil and a generous dollop of blue acrylic paint.

On the CD-R itself is a big splotch of the same blue paint, so thick in places I had to wonder whether my CD player would end up hating me forever. I stuck the disc in and it played just fine.

In fact, by the end I felt rather aggrieved at how little it trouble it caused my speakers. A one-man project of Tamworth, NSW-based Chris Hearn, Alps specialize in a kind of somber lo-fi Casiotone drone with added drum machine and spoken vocal accompaniment. The disc player survived the ordeal, but my interest died a quick death.

#TVKOWU 2[NG

Bla c k S h rou d E P (M is s ing Link ) Hailing from the Mecca of eighties thrash, the San Francisco Bay Area, Artimus Pyle dish out brutality of a surreal intensity. It’s not really thrash, more like a crust Unsane suffering meth psychosis. Unleashed to coincide with Pyle’s 2006 Australian tour, Black Shroud boasts seven tracks of full-pelt savage grinding hardcore with bone-crushing slower passages stabbed into it.

“Lumps Of Human Refuse” offers a beginning so full-on the shock of it is enough to cave your arsehole in. Its fierce anti-war sentiment is echoed in other tracks like “Meaninglessness” and “If You Were Wrong”. “Bitter Pill” is a festering knot of unmanageable emotions that unravels

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into the brutal hardcore discharge, “Party”, while doomy closer, “Savages”, brings the bloodsoaked curtain crashing down on yet another neck snapping Artimus Pyle-driver.

$CVVNGU

EP C / B EP (Wa r p / I n e r t i a ) Instrumental experimental combo Battles is part of the reason drummer Jon Stanier has been eager to remain in New York for these past few years, thus keeping The Mark Of Cain out of action until just this year. Joining Stanier (TMOC, Hemet, Tomahawk) in Battles are esteemed avant-guitarists Ian Williams (Don Caballero), Tyondai Braxton and David Konopka (Lynx). A UK-issued double-disc set released through the traditional home of Aphex Twin, Warp Records, this compiles tracks from Battles’ previously issued EPs as a primer to the release of their full-length later this year. Exploring vast sonic landscapes with their intelligent instrumentalism, Battles are capable of blowing your mind seemingly at will. However, they resist the urge most of the time because for them messing with it is a lot more fun. Part of Warp’s expansion into alternative rock terrain, Battles are sure as hell providing something a bit more substantial than the label’s current cash cow, the highly unimaginative Maximo Park.

$TCFDWT[

Inst a nt Ob l i v i o n - o r “ B eat M e In St . Lo ui s” (D u a l P l o v e r ) Sydney sound master Garry Bradbury (Size, Severed Heads) floats us another solo disc through Dual Plover sporting a photo of himself on the cover that is frightening in the same way Richard D. James’ head on the body of bootylicious babe is frightening. A collection of eccentric ambient electro stuff recorded at home by Bradbury between 2003 and 2005, this is similar to his last release, 2003’s Ruffini Corpuscle and also reminiscent of his work with the brilliant Size.

Toying with loops, samples, synths, effects and minimal beats, he constructs an assortment of sound collages that might be considered weird by fans of ambient and electronica, but rather tame by full-on noise aficionados. Good to see that his

tongue remains in cheek when it comes to naming the pieces, “Gee Your Hair Smells Terrific” being my favourite of the twelve track titles here. With a handle that fantastic the song itself was always bound to be a disappointment – sadly, it is.

6JG $TQPZ

S/ T I I ( Island/Univ er sal) I had so much expectation invested in this second selftitled Bronx album I was almost dreading hearing it. It was one of those times in life where you have to suck in a gust of oxygen because you realise after this there will be no going back. My perception of The Bronx - the band I hold dearest to my heart - was about to be altered irrevocably, and it freaked me the fuck out. My secret weapon, though, was an open mind. I knew this was a band out to push the envelope on every front, and I understood that for them to deliver another slab of purely brutal flat-out murderous punk rock like their 2003 debut (as awesome as that was) would condemn band and fans alike to a safe, cosy padded cell where we’d all go stir crazy together. It was crunch time. They had to step up and try to make an album that would do more than merely snap necks like twigs – maybe even chart a new course for rock. Holy fuck, listen to me, the anticipation was sending me round the twist.

Greeted initially by some kooky minute-long intro entitled “Senor Hombre De Tamale”, the first track of the new album proper, “Small Stone”, hits with a force that superlatives could not hope to do justice to. Like Converge colliding with JR Ewing, or some insane shit – all speed, screams, huge drums and reverbed-out vocals – it smears your brain all over the walls but the smile never leaves your face. “Shitty Future” charges onward with the kind of speed and ferocity old listeners will be immediately comfortable with, but the slicker production style - handclaps and multi-tracked vocals and all - may come as a bit of a shock.

Producer Michael Beinhorn (Soundgarden, RHCP, Ozzy Osbourne, Social Distortion) has captured The Bronx with a clarity they previously had no use for. Indeed, just as the raw-as-fuck recording of the debut was integral to heightening the tension and conveying an immediacy inherent in those songs, Beinhorn’s crystalline effort opens up the sound to adequately accommodate a fresh set of songs that look beyond speed, and sometimes beyond aggression, for their potency. Mid-paced massacre “History’s Stranglers” exerts itself

with a powerfully assured delivery (particularly the bellow extracted from the belly of vocalist Matt Caughthran), while the almost laidback rockin’ number “Oceans Of Class” keeps its head above water thanks to a hook that’s impossible to dislodge once it’s sunk in.

It’s at this point in the proceedings that The Bronx say, “Okay old fans, fuck what you think, we’re just gonna go for it,” and unveil what will arguably be this album’s most “controversial” track, “Dirty Leaves” - a soppy ballad bordering on cliché. If the “otherness” of The Bronx II dictates that multiple listens are required to fully “get” it, “Dirty Leaves” will doubtlessly be the last penny to drop for most people.

“Transsexual Blackout (The Movement)”, a tough medium-pacer with an off-time screamalong chorus, instantly restores the momentum, rolling on through “Mouth Money”, a stifliing, almost dreamlike number that inspires a standout vocal performance from Caughthran, eager to stretch out beyond the bloodcurdling bleeding-throated screech he seemed previously limited to. Absolute belter “Rape Zombie” sends things into overload, its intense, tightly wound rhythms eventually being shattered at the end

by Caughthran screaming: “Come home with me now! I won’t have you any other way!”

Calming things down slightly while still maintaining the spirit and energy, “Around The Horn” is another on the shortlist of tunes that'll take a bit of getting used to, with guitarist Joby Ford’s robotic garage-style riffs serving a quite strange pop-meets-eighties-hard-rock chorus that’s seems less distasteful the more times you hear it. “Three Dead Sisters” is a fierce, fast and sinister stormer that would slot in alongside any of the old song, unlike the very different “Safe Passage”, which sees Jorma Vik’s deliberate pounding beat, James Tweedy’s wandering basslines and Ford’s creepy guitarwork outshone once again by a supreme melodic vocal effort from Caughthran.

Closing out the set, “White Guilt” incorporates southern rock guitar playing, big-time rock production and a lush chorus that in the hands of Van Halen or Mötley Crüe would be a complete MOR travesty. The Bronx, however, manage to pull it off by bringing a level of good taste and natural toughness – even if they couldn’t resist chucking a guitar solo in there.

There is no going back after hearing The Bronx II, even if it's way too much to take in on the first spin. A few airings are required before the initial alienation dissipates and you start to acknowledge that the point of no return is the only place for The Bronx to be. It's then can you relax and fully enjoy the masterpiece they’ve created.

The Bronx

6JG $WHHGVU

admirable. Doing their own take on the slightly metal-inflected hardcore sound of Ringworm, Terror, et al, the five-piece have stepped it up production-wise from the EP to absolutely skull-crushing levels. Songwriting-wise they’ve concentrated on what will go down best among circle pitters, opening proceedings with the catchy shout-along chorus of “The Ghouls” and closing with a fun version of Beastie Boys’ “(You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party)”. In between they deliver a delectable non-stop barrage of potent riffs, pummeling drums and angry-guy vocals.

Just like the Re-Animation EP, an awesome cover graphic by NSW Central Coast tattoo artist Dave Olteanu (aka Dave Undead) compliments this graceless but never tasteless local HC release.

S aucy J a c k ( D amGood/Sh ock) Hey, I’ve got a cool idea! Let’s get a girl version of a Billy Childish group (corr geezer, that ain’t been done before), play nothing but his songs or those he hath covered, and quickly watch an overplayed concept sink to the bottom of the tank. The Buffets were purportedly together for five days only, playing one show, recording an album, and splitting up. At first you kinda think it’s a decent sounding girl-garage record. Then you remember how much better Billy does EVERY SINGLE TRACK HERE. When Billy plagiarises a guitar line or melody he usually does it well; so well you don’t care to even say to your buddy, “Hey, this sounds like “Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere”.” So, this gang of his wife, the drummer from thee Headcoatees, and the singer from some US garage band who comes across like Poly Styrene with a dodgy English-American accent, come along and try to copy exactly what Billy does, well, what thee Headcoatees did (not that they were that good).

If you take the worst part of Billy Childish, the occasional weak song, and remove the redeeming factor, the performance, urgency, charisma, and panache, you get this. [Vincent Rice]

%CPPKDCN %QTRUG Kill ( Met a l Bla d e /Stomp)

Achtung! Horst often to smoking a huge blunt of the non-James variety und to wondering what to happening if a muchly dead Romero zombie mit rotting und useless vocal chords eversosuddenly being forcing into joining an overly generic death metally band from the rising Phoenix, Arizona Amorikkka lands of George W. Fichenbush. Well, finally Horst’s question of destiny to being oder nicht to being answered mit this generic sheiss metally release.

Horst muchly wanting to meeting the zombie voodoo doctor doctor muchly responsible for re-animating the rotted corpse of the Cannibal Corpse sheiss singer, George Corpsegrinder Fisher.

Horst to thinking the zombie voodoo doctor being perfect for Mega Records Public Relations arbeit!

Analways, Horst praising the muchly rotted sheiss singer George Corspeficher Fisher for informing his psychologically challenged Marilyn Manson-looking death metally fan peeps-in the sheiss song “Make Them Suffer”- what they to expecting when they to listening to his sheiss singing: EXTREME PAIN IS WHAT THEY NEED TO FEEL FOR THE REST OF THEIR LIVES. Und Horst nicht to agreeing morely!

Of coarsely, since George Sheissgrinder Fisher ist muchly dead und rotting, Horst to daydream believing that his career is going to being as shortliving as Herve Livvechaize. In facting, Horst too often smoking a non-James blunt und wondering what this sheiss CD to sounding like if the rotting dwarf-midget corpse of Herve Villechaize to re-recording it. A vastly improvement, Horst to declaring! Horst to thinking Mr. Rourke becoming Lynyrd Skynyrd death plane frightened when Herve Tattoo Villechaize to zombie singing Brain Removal Device while the attempting the Susan Anton sodomizing. Da pain! Da Pain! Analways, highly praising this sheiss CD, if you enjoying haben your brain zombie removed und to enjoying the socially retarded sheisslyrics und sheissmusic of the one million death metally bands who haben done the saming at it ever was thing before. Kraftwerk und Hasselhoff agreeing! [Horst Sjaelland]

The Buffets

&QQOGF #PF &KUIWUVKPI Satan’ s Nightmare

6JG %QN[VQPU

&CPMQ ,QPGU

From Colyton out in Sydney’s suburban wild west, The Colytons play punk rock with no pretensions and little care for anything other than rocking.

Main man Timmy Colyton (vocals/guitar) plays a Mosrite like Johnny Ramones and looks cool doing so. He’s sings like he’s a bit tone deaf, which adds much character and charm to the band. On bass is his brother, Paul Colyton, while on drums is Tim Chillingworth (ex- Kaktus Mantras, Thurston Howlers, Sheek The Shayk) using the alias Cash Flagg, which trash movie dorks may recall was the name Ray Denis Steckler used when starring in the greatest movie ever made, 1963’s The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living And Became Mixed Up Zombies. Sounding like The Ramones if they were more obsessed by Brian Wilson than Phil Spector, the short and sweet “I’m A No More” is their best song because it knocks you over fast and doesn’t hang around for you to get up and start asking questions. They should stick to that formula. Three minutes can sometimes feel like two minutes too much Colytons.

It’s fair to say that fans of Canadian rock hero Danko Jones and his eponymous band’s straight-up hard rock ‘n’ roll style with lyrics about struttin’ and scoring with chicks are not going to be totally alienated by his latest effort. The rage evident on 2004’s We Sweat Blood has disappeared slightly, but The Mango Kid’s song remains the same. There are more backing vocals and layers of shit than ever before, and indeed, some of that stuff sounds like it had more thought put into it than the whole of his self-titled EP (1998). Offering an abundance of garden-variety Danko riffs, the sharp-tongued frontman struggles with the flow of his natural lyrical cheek. “(Do You Kiss On The) First Date” is like toned-down Kevin “Bloody” Wilson, while “Invisible” lists all the things he’d do for this chick: “I’d crash my car just for you,” “I’d sell my soul…,” “I’d slash my wrists up…,” “I’d max my credit cards…”etc. As if that wasn’t enough, he goes: “I’d rip my nuts off just for you,” and “I’d break my dick…” It’s like, dude, even if you get her in the sack now, what are you s’posed to do with no nuts and a broke dick? And worse than that, who’s gonna do your thinkin’ for you?

S h ake ‘E m U p E P (The Col ytons )

%QUOKE 2U[EJQU

O ff Ya Cru e t ! (T i m beryard/Shoc k ) Melbourne yobs Cosmic Psychos pull on the flannos, tuck in the singlets, pop the top off a few coldies, stagger back into a studio, and it’s Bob’s your drunkest uncle, a new album! Former drummer Bill Walsh’s acrimonious departure lights the fire under Off Ya Cruet!’s opening track, “Kill Bill”, with leader and mainstay Ross Knight (bass/vocals) dishing out threats to “Cut your fuckin’ head off” and “Punch your fuckin’ face in.” Nasty. With exHoss hitter Dean Muller rock solid at the back, and guitarist Robbie Watts at his sizzling slide-fingered, wah wah-footed best, the Psychos restore a vitality missing for too long. Retaining their indelible devil-may-care spirit, songs like “Mortician” and “Gibbon” are vintage Psychos, though they avoid a complete rehash of the glory days. Lyrically, Knighty has nine more years drinking experience under his belt since Oh What A Lovely Pie (1997), and that shows through on “Drinkin’ With The SAS”, “Letter To My Liver” and “Last Round”, the latter being the kind of sob story this trio probably tells every night of the week. And how good is that title?!

Sleep I s The Enemy ( Bad Tas t e )

6JG &GCF 9CNM We Prowl The Streets ( R e s i s t /S t om p )

Newcastle hardcore zombies The Dead Walk follow up their debut Re-Animation EP (2005) with a fulllength packed with highly moshable riffs, huge breakdowns and typical shout-along parts. Frontman Luke Crew (aka Luke Dolan) gets much of the attention in the band due to his long distinguished past in HC circles – Pitfall, Arms Reach and Life Love Regret are three groups long to be discussed in revered tones by those who experienced them - but the backing he receives from a band featuring ex-members of Life Love Regret, Taking Sides, No Jazz Before The Rumble and others is more than

( Bat t l e god/MG M)

Homicidal Sadistik Exekution bass maniac Dave Slave releases a disc of solo doom horror madness under the name Doomed And Disgusting - an alternative to his ongoing electro/death/ surf/disco solo-project Digital Fiction 3000AD. Entitled Satan’s Nightmare, this’d make the perfect soundtrack to a biopic on the life and times of the devil himself. It’s like Sadistik Exekution on slow pills, which is still not all that slow. Doom-paced stuff, much less complex than Sadistik, it carries many of the hallmarks, if not in the songwriting and lyrics, then definitely on the production side of things. The heavy reverb on the vocals (indeed, the vocal style itself) gives off a feel not unlike SadEx frontman Rok, while the rest of the instrumentation (the drum sound especially) carry similarities to Sadistik’s highly idiosyncratic studio recordings.

Slave’s lyrics are demented in a different way to Rok’s, reflecting his own sense of black humour as he growls about coffins, candles, crucifixes, graveyards, ouija boards, vampires, sorcery, “fire, flames and funeral games.” The front cover photo was used as part of an ad campaign for Real McCoys potato crisps that put Slave’s image up on billboards around the country and on television in a prime-time timeslot. The slogan was “We’re not crackers, we’re chips.”

Clearly they don’t know Slave that well.

Doomed And Disgusting

Jobddvsbuf!De!Sfwjfxt Dbvujpo;!Ebohfs!Dpodfousbufe (KTG 9KVEJ Cr itte r/ Kri tta E P

( We E m p t y Rooms)

Goat Witch side-project unleash a noisy seventeen-minute twotrack live improv excursion via their own We Empty Rooms label. A three-inch disc housed inside a hand-made origami box, the carefactor rating on this sucker is off the fuckinâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; meter. The two compositions, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Critterâ&#x20AC;? and â&#x20AC;&#x153;Krittaâ&#x20AC;?, were recorded live to tape in a stairwell of Melbourneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s La Trobe University. They were then mixed at Fatsound, West Melbourne before being mastered in the US by noise legend James Plotkin (OLD, Phantomasher, Khanate). With some quite languid passages and the obligatory noodling inherent in most improvisation, there are parts that grate on your spine like fingernails down a blackboard.

Thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s this repetitive single-note guitar part in the second half that I think sounds a bit dicky, but good on them for having a go. Limited to 100 copies (I only got given a promo burn), these little Critter/Krittaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s are probably all gone already.

Three-inch CDs are cooler than vinyl at the moment and almost as cool as cassettes. And I hear origami is coming back with a vengeance.

(TGUJMKNNU

Cr ee p s A n d L o v e r s ( A rclig h t) A New York band named after the worldâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s largest rubbish dump and the only remaining landfill left in NYC, Freshkills litter a post-hardcore sound with spare parts of goth rock, post-punk, pop punk and gutter rock on a debut that sounds almost a too right for right now. Across nine tracks, this quintet prove themselves fine appreciators of Drive Like Jehu guitar riffs and Birthday Party basslines, with singer Zach Lipez (Candy Darlings) capable of recalling Mark Mothersbaugh and Nice Cave simultaneously. They can play as loose as Murder City Devils or as detached and clinically cool as Interpol and either way it works. Compare Freshkills to some of the new bands kids are getting all creamy over like Panic! At The Disco and really, thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s no comparison â&#x20AC;&#x201C; at least these dudes actually know a thing or two about rockinâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;.

(TQO *GNN With L o ve

( War t h o g/ S h ock)

One of the latest bands in a long Melbourne lineage that includes Bored!, The Powder Monkeys and Warped, four-piece From Hell are a group of young dudes who have their shit together in every department except cover art. But hey, Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m sure they meant all the blood on the male and female underwear models to look really gruesome and not the least bit contrived and amateurish, so Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll say no more about it. Rockwise, and Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m talking high-energy shit now, this band know where itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s at. With the ability to mix the balls-out sweat-soaked blues of Powder Monkeys with the flashy high-energy riffing of Warped, they offer a twelve-track debut (with a killer secret

tfwfouz

bonus track sung by their metal-as-fuck bassist Benno) that will have instant appeal for fans of the Hellacopters, Gluecifer, Jed Whitey, etc.

)CNNWEEK

Yo u -Wre c ke r (di epunkdeat h) Sydney group Gallucci are an â&#x20AC;&#x153;indie punkâ&#x20AC;? band in the purest sense of that term in that they play indie rock with a more punk attitude than most indie rock fans care for. Their songs are all short one-minute spurts of creativity, which makes You-Wrecker resemble a fireworks display. Riffs, noises, whole complex passages whiz by at a rate that makes it difficult to digest all at once, an overload of inventive rock that has many secrets to uncover over subsequent listens. The creation of twenty year-old singer/ guitarist diepunkdeath, who produced Furtherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s masterful second album of last year, you could say this is a similar line in well-worked indie pop. But rather than craft whole complete â&#x20AC;&#x153;songsâ&#x20AC;? as Further did so expertly, Gallucci are focused on making their points quickly then moving onto somethinig else. They switch agendas rapidly without the slightest inclination towards repetition for its own sake, showing little desire to wallow in the glory of a great riff nor mourn the passing of another brilliant idea. Presently negotiating a deal for YouWreckerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s release, Gallucci have bootlegged this themselves and made it available as a pre-release cassette from www.diepunkdeath.com.

*CTF 1PU

Mo st P e o ple Are A Wast e Of Time (Chat t erbox/MGM) The Hard-Ons have always been a diverse band who never paid much mind to genre. Their last couple of records, made during the transition to the Mark II line-up, were sprawling epics of diversity encompassing every style a power trio could possibly attempt â&#x20AC;&#x201C; indie pop, death metal, punk, experimental noise, whatever the fucking hell they wanted. But now the Hard-Ons have drawn a line in the sand between their melodic side and their wild thrash side with the release of Most People Are A Waste Of Time, a pop effort that pre-empts the arrival of Most People Are Nicer Than Us, its wilder, heavier, thrashier companion album due out later this year. Getting back to the fuzzy pop the Hard-Onsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; reputation was built upon, theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve packed the album to the gills

The Homicides

Freshkills

with rifs and melodies that shatter my quite lazy inference that this is a mere pop effort. There is a feeling of inspiration across every facet of Most People Are A Waste Of Time that has been lacking in the Hard-Ons for quite some time.

While admittedly it only showcases one side of their sound, thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s also the reason itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the most cohesive album of their long career. For lovers of the dark side of the Hard-Ons, the thrash metal punk holocaust, Most People Are Nicer Than Us, is coming soon. I have a feeling it will sound just as inspired as this.

6JG *QOKEKFGU Gimme Some Moreâ&#x20AC;Ś ( Bl azi ng S t r um p e t )

Punkâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Not Dead - at least not in Perth it ainâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t. The Homicides are a gang of WA punks who project an image of genuine trashiness. Possessing names like Johnny Ajax (bass), Donny Rat (guitar/vocals), Olly (drums) and Elvis Overdose (vocals), these guys are the anti-Eskimo Joe. I can imagine the stains on the carpet at their rehearsal space, the blood at their shows, the vomit at their parties, and the mess left in the morning. But despite a wasted look, The Homicidesâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; fast punk â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;nâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; roll is actually really fucking infectious. And not in a nice, sanitized way, or in a way that panders to anything other than their desire to uphold a few old school values in regards to melody and attitude. The Homicides donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t spend time writing anthems or moulding their melodies, as much as they just spit out fast straight-up punk songs that just happen to be catchy as gonorrhea. This is eight tracks (whether that constitutes an EP or a mini-LP Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m not sure), itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s called Gimme Some Moreâ&#x20AC;Ś, and thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s exactly what I was saying when the bastard ended.

*QV 5PCMGU

Triple J Live At The W i r el ess ( N ot R e l e as e d)

Recorded on July 19th 2005 during Hot Snakesâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; Australian visit, this Triple J studio session captures the San Diego foursome at their finest. The members were well aware that they were breaking up in just a few weeks time, but the way they were playing, they were probably all wondering why.

Recorded at Triple Jâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Sydney HQ the day after the bandâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s final Australian show at The Annandale, the line-up featured the added keys of local gal Elea Logan (Tremors, Gazoonga Attack), though sheâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s buried quite a way down in the final mix. Between song banter is kept to a minimum as they hammer out song after song. This is so much better than the overly clinical and all-too-short Peel Session released last year, with a certain spark that that recording lacked. Except for the massive fuck-up by one of the guitarists at the end of â&#x20AC;&#x153;Think About Carbsâ&#x20AC;?, this is tightly executed, with a power that almost makes you cry when you consider this was one of the last times they played together.

An inspired selection of tracks traversing all three albums and sublime live production make this is the best Hot Snakes recording Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve heard. There are whispers this could see an official release one of these days through guitarist Speedoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Swami label.

Not half hard to hear why.

,GUW

Silver EP ( Hydr a He ad/ Rio t ) Veritable lord of UK cold industrial metal and dark ambient electronica, Justin K. Broadrick (ex-Godflesh, Napalm Death, Head Of David, Techno Animal, Final), reappears with the third release for his Jesu project and the follow-up to their epic full-length album of last year. Comprising of four diverse tracks, each over six-minutes in length, Silver expands Jesuâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s scope. The opener and title track is a ponderous ethereal epic featuring the only real drums on the EP courtesy of Ted Parsons (ex-Swans, Prong, Godflesh). Incorporating an overloaded carnival-like keyboard sound, its one glorious riff that rolls on and on repeatedly. With itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s programmed snare-drum slaps, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Starâ&#x20AC;? starts off sounding like a lighter, airier up-tempo Godflesh, its melody and dreamy vocal delivery contributing to what is possibly Broadrickâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s poppiest offering yet. The eight-minute â&#x20AC;&#x153;Wolvesâ&#x20AC;? dims the mood to a level that old fans should be comfortable with while continuing the introduction of the electronic

/KTTQTNKPG

elements that leap to the fore on the astonishing “Dead Eyes”. In place of a standard CD booklet are three individual inserts featuring some spooky fog photography by JK himself.

D ouble D ot EP ( Mi rro rlin e )

/CMG 7R

Unto uc ha b le S o u n d ( Se a N o t e /I n er tia)

Well, I guess this is it for Make Up. After worming their way slowly into my top five all time bands they leave me with this to hold. Live at the Black Cat Club, Washington D.C. Is it good? In a word, yes.

Is it essential? Not entirely. Make Up have always walked a fine line, somewhere between forthright absurdist political ramblings and downright idiotic phoney politicism, both of which were probably an artistic hangover from various members’ Nation of Ulysses days. I always wished they’d just can it and play. But I guess it is their thing, it gives them something to think about in between writing great fucked-up punk-honky-soul tracks. They sprang to life with a live album, Destination Love: Live! At Cold Rice (although the “liveness” of this record is questionable, it’s a great debut), and decided to finish with this one, which might be real. I won’t blame them for fucking up “They Live By Night”, putting it in some minor key elongated jaunt. But “Call Me Mommy” really does benefit from having Alex Minoff on extra guitar duties live (he who would soon join the Scene Creamers/Weird War fold). Make Up were decidedly hit and miss in their early days, and later provided an amazingly solid output for their last studio album, Save Yourself.

Buy that first, the seven-inch collection I Want Some next, then get this. [Ronald Raymond]

Make Up

6JG /GNXKPU

H o u din i Liv e 2 0 0 5 : A Li ve H ist o ry O f G lu t t o n y An d Lust (Ipecac/Shock)

The self-revisionist craze caught everyone last year, sparking a huge trend that saw many reunited old timers perform their one quintessential album live in its entirety. The Stooges did Fun House, Mudhoney did Superfuzz Bigmuff, Gang Of Four did Entertainment!, Patti Smith did Horses, Dirty Three did Horse Stories, even fucking Dio got in on the act and did Holy Diver! For The Melvins, it was Houdini (1993), and this recording captures an intimate performance done in a warehouse

after the band had returned to The States from England where they’d originally performed it at All Tomorrow’s Parties. It’s pretty fine. It’s either better than I was expecting or I’d just forgotten how bloody good some of the old Houdini songs were.

Funnily enough, it’s the more obscure tracks that sound the most vibrant. Songs like “Hooch” and “Night Goat” have been played so much they’re starting to fray around the edges, though “Lizzie” is one old favourite that still holds up well. Taking the liberty of rearranging the original track order to suit the live situation, the hyped-up “Honey Bucket” is extracted from the impressive run of early tracks and planted down the order. It proves to be a stroke of genius, as the track explodes amongst a back-end loaded with slower tempos, weird time signatures and experimental noise.

A self-released EP (a demo tape in the old imperial measure) that sees Adelaide trio Mirrorline (formerly J-Ded) indulging in that increasingly popular pastime of ripping off Slint and Shellac across three tracks of stark post-rock with hard rock sympathies. The excellent all-round musical ability of the band and the cohesion they have often produces something extremely good. If they didn’t sound so much like someone else, they’d be better. I can dig a lot of what they do, but I feel this is a glimpse of some awesome potential that will only be truly fulfilled if and when they decide to forgoe the homage and give a genuine unhindered expression of themselves. I want to feel a connection to what’s inside a songwriter’s heart, mind and gut. The main thing I get from this is that the guys in Mirrorline have listened to Tweez and Live At Action Park an unhealthy amount of times. I await their next release with interest.

0CUJXKNNG 2WUU[ Get Some! ( C hat t e rb o x / M G M )

Nashville Pussy show their determination to remain like their musical heroes AC/DC in as many ways as possible by adopting the Oz rockers’ edict of releasing the same record over and over. If you’ve heard Nashville Pussy before, get ready for more of the same 4/4 times signatures, Acca Dacca riffs, Angus Young solos (courtesy of the female Angus Young, Ruyter Suys), sexual innuendo, and songs about raisin’ hell (aptly, there’s even a song called

THE GOOD PEOPLE FROM THE ETHICALLY UPRIGHT COMPANY THE RIGHT PROFILE WOULD LIKE TO ISSUE THIS WARNING KIDS – Don’t listen to the foul-mouthed drivel that is spewed forth from the Unbelievably Bad editorial team Just like wanking, it’ll make you go blind.

YOU’VE BEEN WARNED! JZ and Timmy Two-fingers

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Jobddvsbuf!De!Sfwjfxt Dbvujpo;!Ebohfs!Dpodfousbufe “Raisin’ Hell Again”). For NP, reinventing rock ‘n’ roll is nowhere near as fun as playing it. And hey, when you’re this stoked on partying, drinkin’ whiskey and wreaking havoc, the act of picking over a pile of old dry musical bones that may very well once have been the remains of a flogged horse is well vindicated by the fact that everyone is shaking their arses and having a great time. The Pussy’s main motivation in making albums seems to be to get some product out so they can hit the road and tear up a few stages. And those that saw their shows in May might agree there is an unmistakable method to that madness.

0GICVKXG 6TGPF S / T E P ( 2 .1 3 .6 1 /I n er tia )

Henry Rollins re-issues the hitherto un-getable 7-inch EP

by San Francisco’s Negative Trend on CD through his 2.13.61 label. A precursor of the legendary Flipper (drummer Steven DePace and bassist Will Shatter (R.I.P) went on to help form that band), Negative Trend proved a strong formative influence on the hardcore sub genre with their dense and intense, aggrandized take on punk. Originally recorded in 1978 and released the following year via producer Debbie Dub’s one-shot label Heavy Manners, these four vintage cuts were re-issued in ‘82

by Subterranean Records in 12-inch format under the title We Don’t Play, We Riot with

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reshuffled track order and new artwork. Now remastered from the original mix tapes by Subterranean owner Steve Tupper, Rollins is keeping the price of this history lesson low and I can only recommend you take him up on his generous offer. Tough, bleak punk rock, more conventional than the very out-there Flipper, this still contains trace elements of the future sound, particularly on the less punk “Black and Red” - ironically written by non-Flipper alumni, guitarist Craig Gray, who went on to play in The Toiling Midgets instead.

0GY 9CXGT

Ne u t e rs (Dual Pl over/Spil l ) Melbourne nut-jobs New Waver have been releasing cassettes of their demented home organ takes on popular hits since the early nineties. Middle Class Man, Perverted By Wheat, Aspects of Loserdom and Bohemian Suburb Rhapsody all preceded their 1999 debut CD release, The Defeated. Neuters is a Best Of and obviously a great place for a curious listener to come in late.

Old favourites like “I Got You Babe” and “Start Me Up” are altered lyrically to sum up many of the frustrations facing the average geek (failed relationships, work-related stress, the increasing reliance on anti-depressants etc). In the hands of New Waver, Velvet Underground’s “Heroin” becomes “Prozac”. Instead of AC/DC’s “Jailbreak”,

they take you on a dark journey into office culture with “Tea Break”. And Elton’s “Saturday Night’s Alright For Fighting” is gloriously reinterpreted as “Monday Morning’s Alright For Working”. If you don’t like dodgy recordings, home organs, dated drum machine sounds, deadpan vocal delivery and nerd humour you’re really going to be behind the eight-ball trying to appreciate New Waver. The rest of you will be pissing yourselves.

2CPKE #V 6JG &KUEQ

A Fever Y ou C an’ t Sweat Out ( A t l ant i c /War ne r )

Achtung! For the long und winding timing now, Horst’s overmedicated, underage, und up the butt teen sex-retaries to becoming all muffin wet when mentioning the sheiss music genre knowing as Emo Phillips. For those homo peeps nicht remembering, Emo Phillips was an emotionally brain damaged pouting Amorikkkan comedian who becoming all bowl-haircuted und fading into the Hall of Obscurity after his fifteen minutes of Andy Warhol fame fame fame being up. Well, for the long long long George Harrison timing Horst nicht to wissen that the overmedicated Amorikkkan skillet peeps to inventing a genre of sheiss music around the pouting outines of Emo Phillips. But once Horst start talking mit his overmedicated teen sex-retaries while he ist sodomizing them, Horst learning all Horst ever wanting to wissen about Emo Phillips music, which, Horst now referring to as GAYMO. Analways, this sheiss CD ist a perfect exampling of GAYMO. Obviously, it be being targeted at 14-year old Amorikkkan girls, mit too much time und geld

on their pretentiously cell phone-holding hands.

GAYMO, like the Emo Phillips genre, ist muchly generic und this CD should haben included the label: GAYMO CD und nothing else on the covering.

GAYMO ist alsoly all about being overly pretentiously to the pointing of the bathos. Of exampling, the firstly title sheiss song on this CD ist called “The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide is Press Coverage,” which machen Horst to declaring, The Only Difference Between This GAYMO CD and the Last One ist the catalogue numbering.

Neil Young und Frank Zappa agreeing! But Horst 14-year old sex-retary, Eva Himmler telling Horst she to loving this sheiss GAYMO CD, the last timing Horst wrecking her rectum. If Horst to summing up GAYMO in one sheiss sentence, Horst to choosing this sheiss line from the aforeskinly mentioned “Martyrdom and Suicide” song: “Oh we’re still so young but desperate for attention.” Well, Horst nicht to giving it to you! In concluding, the only panic ist at the kindergarten, where all the madchens believing this CD ist the best thing since the latest Green Day sheiss releasing. [Horst Sjaelland]

6JG 4GIWNCVKQPU S/T (Ny Våg/Missing Link)

Psycroptic

2U[ETQRVKE Symbols Of Failure ( N e u ro t i c / S t omp)

Ultra-complex technical death metal from the wilds of the Apple Isle, Psycroptic are one local Aussie band making their presence felt overseas.

Symbols Of Failure is their third sacramental offering and seems to have attracted more local attention than its predecessors, The Isle Of Disenchantment (2001) and The Scepter of The Ancients (2003). New singer Jason Peppiatt has come in to replace the outgoing (in both sense of the word) Matthew Chalk, doing a good job of capturing the spirit while not being quite as over the top in his annunciation. Peppiatt might not be as varied in terms of vocal range, nor as amusing and entertaining, but in some ways his style seems a better fit for the band’s clinical musical aesthetic. Like any tech death album, Symbols Of Failure requires a lot of attention and multiple listens to fathom the depth, or indeed the shallowness, of what’s on offer. One problem I feel is that while it’s breathlessly executed and flawlessly produced, songwriting-wise it’s almost too complex for it’s own good, offering very little for the ear to latch onto. If you’re not big on extreme technicality you might find yourself screaming, “Where’s the bloody chorus?!”

4CKUGF (KUV

Sound Of The Republic (Burning Heart/Shock)

Sweden’s Raised Fist are at their best traveling 1000 kilometres per hour. When the drums are blasting away like jackhammers and the riffs are chugging like fast descending stream trains and vocalist Alle Rajkovic is firing words out of his mouth like a semi-automatic with an endless supply of ammo - that's so good it just makes you feel like breaking shit. When they slow down, however, and do the more hip-hoppy Rage Against The Machiney only heavier thing, well that’s just fuckin’ lame. Having said that, Sound Of The Republic doesn’t so much suffer from a lack of fast and brutal songs as much as it does a lack of vision. They’ve been around more than ten years and have managed to deliver a couple of hefty shots to the jaw of the hardcore scene in the form of 2001’s Ignoring The Guidelines and 2002’s Dedication, but Sound Of The Republic is the start of the downhill slide, offering nothing that previous records didn’t - or at least nothing good. There are a few wonderfully relentless beauties here, but nothing that Dedication’s opener “Get This Right” doesn’t eat for breakfast.

Think Keith Morris-era Black Flag meets Henry Rollinsera Black Flag, throw in the Swedish garage thrust of Randy and the lesser-known Amdi Petersens Armé, and you’ve got the shameless throwback sound of Umeå quartet The Regulations. After several worthy EPs, the band was “discovered” by countryman Dennis Lyxzèn of The (International) Noise Conspiracy playing at a club night he’d organised. Enamored with the tough and true punk sound and infectious spirit of the group, Lyxzèn took out a bank loan, produced this self-titled album, and released it last year on his and Stefan Granberg from Randy’s freshly established Ny Våg Records label.

Possessing an authentic Black Flag sound (is that a contradiction in terms?), “My Life My Problems” could almost be an alternate lyric version of “Room 13”, while “End It Now” brings a slight Minor Threat feel as singer Mattias Ottosson introduces a bit of Ian MacKaye to his perfect Morris/ Rollins blend. Securing local distribution thanks to the revamped Missing Link label, The Regulations are heading to Australia for the first time in September. No TV Party that night, right?

4J[VJO $GNN S/T EP (Highhorse)

Hailing from somewhere round Victoria’s Mornington Peninsula, Rhythm Bell are an interesting post-hardcore/post-rock quartet just beginning to establish themselves outside the area. Obviously raised on a steady diet of Fugazi and Shellac, certain passages recall the quieter side of The Nation Blue or the non-pop moments of now defunct Sydney band Staying At Home. They almost have two sides to their sound. The first two tracks of this four-track debut on Melbourne label HighHorse, “Measure” and “Masquerade”, take an early At The Drive-In noodle-heavy emotive rock approach. While the last two, “Introducing…” and “Prince Of Persia”, occupy Shellac terrain, with off-kilter rhythms, broken melodies, and an intimidating sense of foreboding. An undeniably fine group of musicians with a healthy lack of respect for regular song structures, they can tend to lack dynamism at times. It’s an aesthetic that they probably enjoy, but as a listener, I don’t. But this is only their debut and at the very least it shows they have enough potential once they find their feet to do something really cool.

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spills and fun of a live Hick show as you could wish to get. Recorded by Loki Lockwood (Drones, Digger & The Pussycats), “The Five Tips” explodes to life like a suicide bomber on the 564 down to Jerusalem station. The Hick maintain the rage throughout their tribute to that most wonderful of feathered creatures, the Ibis, “Flight Of The Shitbird”. Playing down the country-fried influences slightly, there are plenty of just plain nasty punk ‘n’ roll tracks, “Set Your House In Order”, “Hanging Out To Dry” and “Dogshit Blues” among them. “40c”, a true tale about a violent argument between two drug addicts over money, is scary in a kind of Texas Chainsaw Massacre way. While at the opposite end of the spectrum, the slow and evocative “Payday For Peewee” crosses into Gentle Ben territory. Bonus second disc, Train Crash, captures the new line-up live and raging at The Tote, Melbourne playing several Cane Trash songs as well as many older favourites.

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Cacophony 1979 - 1981 (Harbinger Sound)

Recently there’s been increased interest in the postpunk movement dubbed “no wave”, a stupid name that stuck after a bunch of its New York ilk were compiled onto an album titled No New York (1978). Because of this you can’t be blamed for thinking that the entire no wave sound was centred in that city. The truth is, the realisation that punk can be more than badly played rock ‘n’ roll was international, and here in Australia we had some pearlers like Primitive Calculators, Makers Of The Dead Travel Fast, Whirlywhirld, and the subject of this writing, Sydney’s Slugfuckers, whose retrospective release has found a home on English label, Harbinger, showing that interest in some of our more innovative music is still offshore even 20+ years after the fact. I received my copy from Harbinger head honcho Steve Underwood while I was last in the UK and gasped as he informed me that he’d only exported a dozen or so copies Down-Under through the good old boys at Missing Link. Which brings me to my motivation for writing a record review, of all things. Wake up Australia and take an interest in your musical past. Shit, SPK 7-inch singles go for AUD$3000+ in Japan. The world is listening, why aren’t we? [David Yeldham]

6JG 5VCDU

14/6/2003: 3CR AM live-to-air (Not Released)

A friend of mine bought this in New Zealand. It started at NZ$5, then copped a sale price sticker of NZ$2.50. Sometime later it hit the ultra-small time in the lowest of low bargain bins priced at NZ$1.

Undoubtedly this CD is the greatest fucking bargain in the history of bootleg music shopping.

While it only has four songs, one New Zealand dollar is equal to about 85 Australian cents - you reckon I’m complaining? Recorded live-to-air for Melbourne station 3CR (855 AM), this originally aired on the show Let Your Freak Flag Fly hosted

by Michael Smith of Weather Records, who issued the first (and best) Stabs 7”. Stabs drummer Buffy Tufnel (in the guise of his alter-ego Matt Gleeson) also hosts a show on 3CR called Burning Vinyl.

This disc was most probably handed out to a member of the NZ rock community as a promo during one of The Stabs’ two visits there. But instead of enlightening The Land of the Long White Cloud to the ways one of the greatest rock bands we’ve had the good taste to send over the Tasman in ages, the ungrateful cunt went and sold it. And I got it for 85c. Bargain of the century.

6JG 5VCDU Dirt

( A r t S c h o o l D ro p o u t / R e v e r b e r a t i o n )

The Stabs are the kinda band who elicit something from the audience, usually some kind of reaction. Whether it’s to stand in awe, insult them, or vomit uncontrollably over the couches at Spectrum before getting up back to the bar, you got it. They’re not the kind of band you can experience apathetically. After two seven-inch releases - the kinds recorded to an 8-track machine in a loungeroom - they must’ve figured their audience was vomiting for something of a higher fidelity. Maybe they thought their lyrics were finally important enough to be heard.

Well, you got it. They actually managed to get into a studio (Melbourne’s Birdland) and record the whole thing, and eventually pay it off so it could be released. Are we all the better for it?

The first listen extracted a reaction in me akin to a “fuck off.” But I listened again, and again, and decided that this “clean” sound actually works for them. The seething emotion and the brooding anger just sits a little behind firmly

Slugfuckers

Cane Trash (Spooky/MGM) After several failed attempts, SixFt Hick have collected all the blood, sweat, broken bones, smashed glass, spilled drinks, upended ashtrays from ten years as the most dangerous live act in Australia and finally bunged it all on a record. A line-up reshuffle in 2004 that saw bassist Dan Baebler switch to guitar and Tony Giacca join on bass has given the band a sharper focus, better cohesion and a harder edge. Likewise, dual-vocalists, brothers Geoff and Ben Corbett, have stepped up to a new level, and just short of drawing blood, this is as close to the chaos, excitement, thrills,

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Jobddvsbuf!De!Sfwjfxt Dbvujpo;!Ebohfs!Dpodfousbufe legible instruments, but the album manage to build itself entirely on this shonky foundation.

Which just happens to be what I love about this band. [Stanley Spatchcock]

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( C r im I n A ll/R edn eck/R ev er berati on)

Queensland troubadour Steve Towson has something very raw going on, his sound unfiltered, his artistic voice unsuppressed. Hitting guitar chords with a fury dredged up from down deep, this solo social justice advocate seems driven by some greater force as he sings or shouts political, sociological and personal truths with a desperation that is rather apt. On his third and latest album, Shah Mat (translation: The King is Dead), Towson offers his most conventional batch of songs, and his most ambitious. The much fuller sound provided by the addition of his new backing band The Conscripts – Ness Glenn (cello, bass) and Andy Chopper (drums), along with several other collaborators – provides a sturdier support for Towson’s often stark tunes.

Underneath the extra layers of instrumentation and the fine production by local Brisbane legend Bryce Moorhead (Gazoonga Attack, Sekiden, Violent Soho), his rawness still shines through, even on a few of the lovey-dovey songs he’s chosen to include like “6am” and “A Love Like

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Water”. Diverse yet cohesive, Shah Mat is by far Towson’s most accomplished work yet.

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O n c e U po n A Time In Australia (Sol d Our Soul s/MGM)

Colonial punks originally from Tamworth, Sydney City Trash must be some of the youngest Bushwackers fans in Australia.

Their sound is their own cobbled together take on traditional Australian bush music, colonial ballads written by Irish settlers and sheep shearers and the like - tunes like “Shores Of Botany Bay” and “Flash Jack From Gundagai”. Although there’s about eight dudes in the band, vocally not one of them can hold a note. And while it could be argued that obvious hero Shane McGowen was in the same boat, at least his voice had a bit of character.

These kids need to get more whiskey, cigarettes and heroin into ‘em and start coughing up a bit of blood and bile - or else get someone in who can. Borrowing from the Bushwackers, The Pogues, Redgum, Flogging Molly and the like, SC Trash are coming at it from a punk angle insofar as they are feeling their way through the genre with far from refined musical skills. Yet if you compare this to what the Bushwackers did in the seventies, attitude-wise especially, there isn’t really a hell of a lot of difference.

Terror Firma

6GTTQT (KTOC

Throwing Y ou D own The Stairs ( Mi s s i ng L i nk )

Grinding crust merchants with a solid hardcore backbone, Terror Firma are a part-time project featuring ex and current dudes and dudette from an impressive list of bands such as Far Left Limit, Agents Of Abhorrence, ABC Weapons, Schifosi, George W. Bush, In Name And Blood, Whitehorse and others. While a debut album was recorded in 2003, the part-time nature of the group meant they didn’t get around to issuing it until sometime last year, and even then it was simply a few copies dubbed onto cassette to sell at shows. Throwing You Down The Stairs is Terror Firma’s first “proper” release and features six new abominations plus five of the aborted album tracks. Classic grind and crust with many well-worn ideas but a ton of character to compensate, I recently heard that Terror Firma have decided to call it quits.

That’s a bummer, but understandable when you consider the groundbreaking nature of some of the members’ other bands against this fun throwback project.

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The Bruce Lee EP (So v ie t ) Want to have your mind blown? Go see The Thaw. This astounding all-girl trio from Sydney make unrestrained feedback-laced experimental indie jazz punk noise pop with crazy made-up time signatures and minimal vocals. With a natural inclination towards innovation, they seem to be thinking sideways about sound, rhythm and arrangement. Drummer Katrina drives from the rear, smacking her skins with a calm face and deceptive force. Bassist Kathy looks for ways to extract the most out of her allotted four-strings - using a screwdriver to hammer down the frets, picking melodies above the nut, and tapping with the right hand while playing overhand with the left. Guitarist/ vocalist Stephanie is the same, exploring the limits of her instrument, and the human ear, with a cavalier determination. This EP is one seventeen-minute sonic excursion recorded in March 2005 and is a fine introduction to the dexterous imagination and breathless sonic ability of this band. It starts off reminiscent of Godspeed You! Black Emperor before shifting through various moods and ill-defined styles, even busting

into an indie poppy middle section where Steph showcases some highly impressive pop vocals. For rock music lovers who like to be taken way way out - climb aboard The Thaw express.

6QGEWVVGT S/T (System Corrupt)

Insane machine-gunfire ProTools beat noise terror from lone Sydney electro psychopath Toecutter (or Dave to his mates), this self-titled effort sounds like someone letting a rabid chainsaw-wielding lunatic on crystal cut loose on a tacky eighties disco dancefloor. Containing the skeletons of many a piss-poor pop song, cut up, mangled and interspliced with an array of demented sound bites and distorted drum machines, this is like an old episode of Video Hits and a series of late-night infomercials churned up in a dysfunctional hispeed blender owned by James Plotkin. Amongst the cacophony of broken break-beats, bizarre bleeps and hilarious TV and movie samples, you’ll catch shards of “Slice Of Heaven” by Dave Dobbin and the Herbs, “Saturday Night” by Cold Chisel, “The War Song” by Culture Club and “Milkshake”

by Kelis. After 20+ tracks of this shit (plus bonus remixes) your head will barely know what’s hit it.

8CTKQWU #TVKUVU

Release The Bats : The Birthday Party As Heard Through The Meat Grinder Of Three One G ( T h re e O n e G )

Arriving like a bolt out of the black, Release The Bats is a fucked-up little tribute to The Birthday Party by friends of San Diego label Three One G, eighteen tracks in all, most staying true to the barbaric spirit of Cave and Co. Following-up Three One G’s 2002 Queen tribute, Dynamite With A Laserbeam, this is way better for the simple fact that The Birthday Party were a mad visceral squalid gothic rock nightmare while Queen were a bunch of sequin-clad poodle-haired rim-jobbers who wouldn’t know rock if it was a 12-inch cock in their sphincters. Amongst the many highlights are Plot To Blow Up The Eiffel Tower opening proceedings with a tight-as-fuck take on “Pleasure Heads Must Burn”; T Cells having a dark electro weird go at “Deep In The Woods”; spastic vege grind metallers Cattle Decapitation laying waste to “Sonny’s Burning”; Ssion and their kitschy retro goth disco take on “Nick The Stripper”; and Numbers pouting through “Cry”. Melt Banana, Error, Daughters and many more, topped off by the incomparable Some Girls turning “Release The Bats” into a brutal hardcore assault. I’m digging this just a little bit more than Victory Records’ Counting Crows tribute a few years back.

Garth Brooks und the Wayne County to meeting the Alice Cooper back staging und immediately declaring, “We are not worthy!” Well, on this Christian rocking CD, mostly of the songs are about the being not worthy. Apparrotly, Jesus Christ the Avenging Kung Fu Asskicker deciding to muse such unknowing artists as Steven Curtis Chapman und Amy Grant into recording songs of constant groveling, which inspiring the homo Christian peeps listening into obtaining those aforeskinly mentioned E tickets to Heaven.

Strictly puzzling! Although Horst a cross-carrying Christian when it to suiting Horst’s Mega Records purposes, Horst nicht to believing in the Christian rocking, which to Horst’s Falco und Kraftwerktraining ears ist as muchly as an oxymoron as safe sex. There is no rocking here! In Horst’s nicht so humble opinioning, Since Elvis first thrusting his Memphis pelvis into Ed Sullivan’s living room, rocking music was rebellious, not obedient! It was about the sex und the drugs, nicht about praising Jesus Christ the Avenging Kung Fu Asskicker, who didn’t even write his own music. Analways, one of the many depressing sadomasochistic tracks ist an Air Supply outtakesounding “Much of You”, where the Steven Curtis Chapman obsessing on the cross, whips and nails und spears and then superfluously declaring, “I am the sinner and you are the savior.” In other wording, Steven Curtis Chapman ist redundantly sagen, “I am not worthy!” But the wurst is yet to coming together when Point of Grace Bob Dylanly-Saved announcing in the sheiss tune “I Choose You” that everybody’s worshipping something. Naturlich! Horst to worshipping the Kylie Minogue but Horst nicht to needing to recording muzak-sounding sheiss tunes about his deity worshipping. Horst rather worshipping in the privates mit the stalking und the Baum sausage grappling. In a nutshell, all the sheiss tunes here sound oddly familiar, like you haben to horen them a million timings before, when you on the elevator. “Taking Live for Today” by Natalie Grant. It to eerily sounding like Advil Lavignes “Complicated” with added Christian-centric sheiss lyrics. Analways, Horst telling the peeps to forgiving these Christian sheiss artists. They obviously nicht to wissen what they do. Horst hoping they burning out long before they fading away. Neil und Carl Jung agreeing! [Horst Sjaelland]

8GTUWU 6JG /KTTQT

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g r o u p : x e x ( S m a c k S h i re )

Home (Equal Vision/Stomp) Oh shit, here comes another middle of the road screaming, scream-o, screamathon band.

No point prettying it up or trying to justify its worth (as much as the press release does). This is another one of the zillion tiresome records churned out by clean cut twentysomething boys with nice fringes and nicer poses. They do try – as much as they claim – to be pushing this genre’s envelope a little by getting a little retro on us. And, admiringly it does pay off. Trading the digital studio wizardry and fandangle approach for a raw, straight to tape vintage sound, the result is clean guitars getting overdriven naturally to break up and an all round warm edge musically. It’s a naturally brittle hence rawer sound on Home that does make the ears prick up a little on tracks like “Life as a Criminal”.

But on the whole, we’ve been hearing this shit for a fair while now and it’ll probably take more than an amp from the seventies to make it sound exciting… [Audrey L. Carpetbag]

8KQNGPV 5QJQ Pigs & TV EP (Victim)

From Briz, Violent Soho are a storming young group of miscreants with a healthy Nirvana infatuation. Sounding a bit like The Vines if The Vines had half a fuckin’ clue and a fraction of the recording budget, opener, “Generation,” is so basic that the main riff could belong to anyone. But Violent Soho spew it out in their own unaffected way, as if they’d honestly never heard it before. The chorus is as catchy as girl’s germs, while the handclaps and feedback together in the breakdown are a sweet sweet touch. The wheel is not being reinvented, but all six of the tracks on Pigs and TV have a quite brutal force for how poppy they all are. One other stand out is “Bombs Over Broadway”, an upbeat rocker that showers yet more generic riffs and melody in wonderous soul-enriching feedback.

The In Utero-era ballad that closes the thing, “One On”, sounds like it’s come off a different record, perhaps the one John Lennon and Mark Lanegan recorded together in Ween’s home studio.

Legend has it that whilst exploring the dusty LP library at ultra-ripper New Jersey radio station WMFU (www.wfmu. org), presenter and noise music celebrity Tom Smith (TLASILA & sightings) came across this gem. Luckily for him (or is it us) he was working backwards from Z to A and came across xex’s debut and sole release group:xex which was originally released and then faded into obscurity back in 1980. Tom was so enamored with the brilliant minimal synth pop sounds he found that he tracked them down to reissued the album on his Smack Shire label. Apparently the group also recorded a second unreleased album titled xex: change. Let’s hope that Tom or somebody tries to track this down as well. [David Yeldham]

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S a m s a r a ( P ro s t h e t i c ) With advance praise from publications as diverse as The Wire and Terrorizer, and production from the one and only Matt Bayles (Botch, Isis, Minus the Bear), there was little doubt that Samsara would impress. Those familiar with Yakuza’s previous two releases will be pleased to hear all their grand ideas congealing. Newcomers will be blown away. Yakuza are a metal band who draw influences from everything but metal. Samsara could just as easily be called experimental jazz, or prog, if it weren’t for the ball-crushing heaviness that rears its head at the most devastating moments. There are nods to the explorations of Coltrane, with reverb-soaked sax featuring on most tracks; and tribal/world music influences that, combined with the brass, reminded me of Cerberus Shoal. Tasteful post-rock interludes and even a homage to Sun Ra complete the picture. Samsara is not a comfortable listen – the sheer power of the band’s thrash attack makes the atmospheric sections seem more eerie, and their diversity can overwhelm. But it is an album of exceptional quality: one that should appeal all fans of progressive, heavy music. Those still mourning the passing of Breach and Botch might find themselves a new favourite band here. [Dan Stapleton]

The Birthday Party

8CTKQWU #TVKUVU Wow Hits 2006-30 of the Years Top Christian Artists and Hits (EMI)

Achtung! Mein the-welt-iscoming-to-an-end-so-wehaben better-kaufen-the-Eticket-to-the-Stairway-toHeaven, Christian peeps. Horst here, und muchly reminding of the famously scene from the Wayne’s World, where the

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Hong Kong in December of ‘71 and is a simple one-on-one conversation between the highly engaging Lee and the slightly aloof Berton. Asking some fairly generic questions, Berton is bestowed with Lee’s great insight, as he builds a picture of an actor torn between his superstardom in Asia and a fledgling career in Hollywood.

Born in San Francisco, raised in Hong Kong, Lee returned to America as a teenager and for his whole life had one foot planted in the East and the other in the West. At the time of this interview he was attempting to straddle the great divide by maintaining his massive Asian success while breaking through to become America’s first genuine oriental action hero. Whether discussing acting performance, combat techniques, or the absurdity of the word “star”, Lee is deeply philosophical, maintaining a strong focus on how to achieve a true expression of one’s self. The interview ends rather abruptly, and at only 30-minutes you’ll be feeling slightly gypped. But that’s nothing compared to how you’ll feel when you explore the extra features menu and catch Grandmaster William Cheung blabbing on about the beginnings of Wing Chun and the history of the Ming Dynasty in what is possibly the shittest DVD extra of all-time.

Much better is Lee’s Hollywood screen test from 1964 where he gets to showcase his warm personality, sharp intellect and even sharper moves.

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( C hrome D re am s )

Kicking off with an apology for the unauthorized-ness of itself and for the fact that it does not contain one single note of AC/DC's music, And Then There Was Rock is a rock doco that doesn’t set the bar too high.

The first actual shot we see is a firecracker going off in someone’s backyard which is then superimposed over some old black and white photos of AC/DC as some stiff English bint narrates like she’s auditioning for the BBC. The first talking head appears, and who could it be, but none other than utter shit-babbler, ex-Recovery co-host Jane Gazzo, telling us how much AC/DC rocked. She was two years old when Bon Scott died, she’s met approximately zero members of the band, and in describing the Aussie rock fan she mentions the words “Marlboro Lights”. You get the impression early on that this is the kind of Acca documentary Ed Wood would make.

Still, I love a backyard production, and the “Life Before Brian” angle ensures that even when people are talking shit, at least they’re talking shit about Bon.

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A reissue of the 1972 Canadian television interview with Bruce Lee - the only filmed interview he ever gave in English - which was uncovered and issued on video in the late nineties, this DVD milks the rare black and white footage just that little bit further while helping to serve the voracious appetite of Bruce Lee cultists.

One complete episode of the long forgotten interview program, The Pierre Berton Show, this was recorded in Show

*GCX[ /GVCN .QWFGT 6JCP .KHG (Umbrella/ S hoc k)

Billed as a sister piece to Don Letts’ 2005 film Punk: Attitude, Heavy Metal: Louder Than Life is a slick, professional peek into the world of metal.

Directed by Dick Carruthers, who put together the epic Led Zeppelin DVD, the differences between this and Letts’ film very much reflect the differences between the world of punk and metal. To start with, Heavy Metal is slicker than Punk: Attitude, which leads to a certain sterility at times. Another thing that comes across, not only in the filmmaking of Carruthers but in the tone of the interviews is that metalheads are more in love with the

Bruce Lee

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subject of metal more than punks are punk. A punk has to be cynical towards everything, especially punk. Metalheads though, they’ll talk about metal for hours on end and die to defend its honour.

Carruthers wheels out a few loudmouth hacks like Dee Snider and Ronnie James Dio in what is a fairly B-grade cast of interviewees (sorry Geezer!). There's no Ozzy, no Plant or Page, no one from AC/DC, no one from Gunners, no David Lee Roth, no one from Slayer, no one from KISS, no one from Mötley Crüe, no one from Pantera, not even any of the fruits from Manowar goddamn it! It does, however, have Korn, so be prepared to fast-forward through a lot of that shit. Still, seeing Venom is cool any time, and that Mortis cock-smoker provides some comic relief when they show one of his clips. That’s another difference between this and Punk: Attitude. Where Don Letts was prepared to dig deep to deliver the rare footage, Carruthers mostly just relies on well-used live stuff and video clips.

The second disc of extras doesn’t look too appetizing. The World Of Metal As Explained and Exploded by Dee Snider? Yeah right.

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Mid South Colliseum.

Memphis, Tennessee. 12th of December 1982. Screaming For Vengeance World Tour.

Everything a Priest fan could want.

Laser beams, smoke machines, Marshall quads stacked on top of scaffolds, guitar harmonics, synchronized headbanging and a gay singer perched on high holding a bondage whip and wearing studded leather everything. How it took until the nineties for most fans to figure out that Rob Halford was batting for Tom Cruise’s team is one for the conspiracy theorists.

Originally released on VHS as Judas Priest Live (also featured on DVD as part of ‘Priest’s Metalogy boxset), this very stagy and slick effort is impressive to the point of pure cheese. Get ready for a set full of classic metal songs accentuated by superb sound production, playing that seems almost too spot-on to be real, and the kind of stage maneuvers that inspired Spinal Tap. Too bad you can’t get DVDs to play backwards – who knows what kinds of wicked shit this might provoke impressionable teenagers to do.

6JG 2WPM 4QEM /QXKG (EMI)

Don Letts (director) and Peter Clifton’s (producer) quasidocumentary on the UK punk scene, this delivers plenty of rare footage from back during those glorious one hundred days of the Roxy Club circa-1979. Shot entirely on Super-8 film, often without synch sound, this raw and rare celluloid treat has survived reasonably in tact. Beginning with the ‘Pistols doing “God Save The Queen”, it captures, in fitting guerillastyle, the likes of The Clash, The Slits, X-Ray Spex, Subway Sect and Slaughter & The Dogs. Even visiting tourists from New York, Wayne County and Johnny Thunders’ Heartbreakers, get a guernsey.

Disappointingly, though, the soundtrack might as well be someone funneling runny diarrhea into your ear canal. The live performances are either accompanied by a scratchy muffled live track or a dubbed-on studio recording, and it’s difficult to say which I detest more - it all sounds like rubbish. In addition to the live stuff there is archival footage of the Old Bill raiding an art display at Malcolm McLaren’s shop, and The Clash sitting around on tour not

8CTKQWU #TVKUVU .KXG #V 5RGEVTWO

(Burning Heart/Shock)

Refused broke up and no one really knows why. Even the members can’t exactly pinpoint what went wrong.

Since the break-up in 1998 a word has barely been spoken by any of them, which has helped fuel the enormous cult following that has posthumously sprung up around the band. This documentary, made by guitarist Kristofer Steen, is a way for the Swedish foursome to try to come to terms with the split once and for all. Fans will be ecstatic at the delivery of this long-awaited package, but anyone expecting it to completely unravel the great Refused mythos will be disappointed. The actual main documentary portion of it comes across as a very personal document made mainly for the band members themselves. Focusing less on facts about the formation and life of the group and more on the their final ill-fated tour of America, it only vaguely explains reasons for why they broke up less than a year after they had released one of the most influential albums of the nineties. Also included are some videos (all two of them), as well as the tracklisting from The Shape Of Punk To Come (1998) reassembled from an assortment of live one-camera bootlegs. These clips vary widely in quality but not in worthiness.

Pieced together they expose the true essence of the band and - for better or worse - help strip away a few layers of the legend for everyone who wasn’t around back then – which is practically everyone.

While they can sometimes lack a killer intent in live situations, with the red lights of handy cams aimed straight at them, the foursome lift for the kind of performance that a lesser band than The Nation Blue would’ve been sheepish about following. But this Tassiecum-Victorian trio don’t give that shit a second thought, nailing the entire crowd to Spectrum’s stripey back wall within the first few notes of opener, “Back Into Your Life”.

Guitarist/vocalist Tom Lyngcoln suffers a head wound from his guitar at the end of “Damnation”, and by the start of “Blackout” has got a steady stream of blood running into his eye. Injury-prone bastards those Nation Blue lads. The extra features menu boats an extra hour of video clips by the bands plus other bits and pieces like a snippet of Matt Weston dislocating his knee onstage at Festival Hall when Team Nation warmed the stage for Foo Fighters.

Pic: Mel Gathercole Pic: Mel Gathercole

Clockwise from top left: Brett from Blacklevel Embassy; Spod; Leo and Matt from Further; Dave from Blacklevel Embassy; Nick, Rusty and Graeme from Grand Fatal; Tom from The Nation Blue

Pic: Mel Gathercole

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Pic: Mel Gathercole

doing much. Included as a bonus is an interview with John Lydon conducted by producer Clifton (who is an Aussie) in Australia in 1983 where the spiky-haired scoundrel repeatedly lambastes our flies.

Pic: Mel Gathercole

Judas Priest

In January 2005 The Nation Blue, Further, Spod, Blacklevel Embassy and Grand Fatal played a show at Sydney dive Spectrum. On paper it looked like one of the most exceptional local line-ups I could imagine.

Obviously some other people thought so to, namely The Nation Blue bassist and filmmaker Matt Weston, and his partner in Syndicate Films, Adrian Shapiro. They were on hand to capture the evening for posterity and offer this snapshot of a pulsating scene.

Local boys Grand Fatal set a cracking early pace, the pissy little Spectrum PA struggling to accommodate the deeper nuances of their rocking post-HC sound.

One of their last shows with original bassist Nick Obvious, GF prove as always they are a live band to be reckoned with. Up next, Blacklevel Embassy’s ability to bludgeon in a more direct and forceful way gives them arguably the most desirable sound of any band here. Though still at a formative stage, BLE go out with the intent not to warm the stage but to reduce the venue to ash with their scorching brand of black rock. Sydney sex nerd Spod hits the stage accompanied by his voluptuous dancers/back-up singers and an iPod stacked with killer dance punk backing tracks for him to sing karaokestyle to. He works the crowd like an old Kings Cross stripper, discarding items of clothing as he goes and constantly getting down amongst the females in the audience.

He even gets it on with some dude. As a finale, the sweat-soaked love god is joined onstage by the Blacklevel Embassy guys in bandanas for versions of “Makin Party” and “Secks Party 4 Eva”. Next on, Sydney grungy indie noiseniks Further deliver a set of songs that would eventually end up on their killer second album. They play with such intensity they shake one of the mirror balls loose from Spectrum’s ceiling.

Pic: Mel Gathercole

(SolaSonar/Shock)

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personal staff.

Wolfe heads for the hills with a piece of Jewish tail he hooked up with in the joint, but the majority of the other inmates stupidly decide to stick around and have some fun torturing and killing Nazis in retaliation.

Just as theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re finishing off the last ghastly medical of them, more Nazi's experiments arrive and wipe out made famous everyone. The leader of by real life the platoon finds Ilsa, monster Dr. Josef still tied to the bed, Mengele. Her and shoots her in the character was (not head. The End. very) based on the Several years real life exploits later, though, Ilsa of Ilse Koch, the miraculously shook off wife of SS officer the fatal gunshot blast Karl Koch, who ran and returned for two the Buchenwald dodgy cash-ins, Ilsa: camp from when Harem Keeper of the it opened in Oil Sheiks (1976) and 1937 until it was Ilsa: The Siberian liberated by allied Tigress (aka forces in 1945.

Tigress - 1977). A Ilsa is using third, even dodgier male prisoners German cash-in as her sex slaves,

by Jesus Franco but none can called Greta: Haus ever quench her ohne Männer insatiable libido (1977) starred so she has their Dyanne Thorne and dicks chopped off was later dubbed unceremoniously into English and by her crack team re-titled Ilsa: The of hot blonde Wicked Warden female SS officer Ilsa: SS stands for Shower Scene (1977). Heil Ilsa! underlings. Then one day, in steps Wolfe (Gregory Knoph), a cocky American prisoner of German descent with a boring personality but the sexual staying power of Nietzsche himself. Ilsa is stoked. Wolfe brags to one of the castrated (2005) inmates, this poor prickless prick called Mario (Tony Mumolo), that when having sex D. Boon, Mike Watt and George Hurley he can remain on the vinegar stroke for as journey'd through the early eighties as long as he likes and not blow his wad. After odd school punk band The Minutemen. In a night of prolonged ecstasy with Wolfe, a the Californian hardcore wilderness of the disbelieving Ilsa brings in a pair of hot blonde day, they were true misfits, succinct and female SS officer underlings and watches unquestionably original, never fitting nicely him go at them for a few hours and finds into any pocket, even as they sat next to that her man of steel is indeed the real deal.

Husker Du and Black Flag on SST. This When Ilsaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s not thinking about shagging, feature doco gives an unreal look at the sheâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s thinking about torture. As each rawness and intensity of the band onstage, sickening frame passes through the projector, and counters it with intensive testimony she and her spunky colleagues at Medical from everyone from Flea to Mike Watt's Camp 9 show how theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re turning sadism mummy. It's told by those who were there, into an art form. At one point, a Nazi general letting Watt and the many interviewees (played by Wolfgang Roehm) makes an narrate the tale by calling it as they saw, official inspection visit to the camp and is keeping it totally trim and true. No romantic so impressed with Ilsa's torture work and v/o necessary. You probably know how radiant Germanic beauty that he asks her to this story sadly ends, but thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s not the stand over him and piss while wearing her boots and the top half of her SS uniform.

A few of the female prisoners eventually put their heads together with Wolfe and little dickless Mario to come up with an escape plan (though why Wolfe would want to leave when heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d struck a blonde-haired, blue-eyed goldmine is anyoneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s guess). Wolfe primes Ilsa for the greatest night of stoinking since Adolf met Eva, then he fools her with the oldest S&M trick in the scriptwriters book by tying her up to the bed. With the evil blonde Ă&#x153;berwitch gagging for it, Wolfe gags her, steals her gun and frees the other prisoners The late great D. Boon who kill the guards and capture Ilsa's of The Minutemen

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Dedicated to the memory of the victims of the Holocaust, Ilsa: She Wolf Of The SS is up there with anything starring McCauley Culkin as the most tasteless flick ever. Donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t expect anything approaching historical accuracy, nor any of those highfalutin Hollywood ideas like plot â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Ilsa was made for the kind of dudes who wore raincoats to the cinema, but goes way beyond titillation to the realms of utter perversity. A veritable cavalcade of weird sex and scientific atrocities all filmed on the set of Hoganâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Heroes, itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s still banned in Germany even to this day.

Incorporating elements of 1969â&#x20AC;&#x2122;s original nudie Nazi flick, Love Camp 7, the concentration camp context was a great way for the filmmakers (HG Lewis producer David F. Friedman had a hand in this) to add feasibility to the idea of showing naked chicks being tied up, bound in chains, whipped, tortured and violated with a gigantic buzzing Ă&#x153;ber-dildo! Bad news for the raincoat brigade, however, was the array of backyard castrations (sans anesthetic!) in this bad-taste classic of the seventies.

Played to perfection by tall, blonde, buxom porn-star Dyanne Thorne, Ilsa is the commandant of Medical Camp 9, a Nazi concentration camp devoted to the kind of

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important bit. What is important is the spirit, energy and econo ethic of these pioneering kats. â&#x20AC;&#x153;Punk is what we made it to be,â&#x20AC;? as Watt puts it. With a double DVD release on June 27th, jammed with more interviews and live footage, We Jam Econo is essential viewing for anyone who thinks they know what punk rock isâ&#x20AC;Ś You might just be surprised. [diepunkdeath]

6JG #TKUVQETCVU (2005)

Two guys (Penn Jillette and Paul Provenza) walk into a Hollywood producerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s office to pitch an idea for a featurelength documentary about an old joke told amongst comedians, a barely funny joke at that.

The pair go on to explain how they plan to rally together a hundred comedians â&#x20AC;&#x201C; big names among them too like Whoopi Goldberg, Robin Williams, Chris Rock, Drew Carey, Eric Cartman

Jason Alexander, Eric Cartman, etc. â&#x20AC;&#x201C; to interpret a well-worn tale about a showbiz family whoâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s act is to get up onstage and perform the most disgusting feats of public incest, sodomy, bestiality, paedophilia and Scientology imaginable. The joke would be told using graphic descriptions of underage children being fist-fucked, grannies being sodomized, daughters blowing goats, fatherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s shitting onstage, family members swimming around in it (not to mention a whole list of other wrong shit youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re probably not depraved enough to even think of), before ending with the sort of punchline Neil Hamburger has based his entire career on. At the end of the pitch the producer is absolutely dumfounded, heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s like, â&#x20AC;&#x153;That sounds fucking amazing, what do you call this documentary?â&#x20AC;?

In tandem, the pair answers, â&#x20AC;&#x153;The Aristocrats!â&#x20AC;?

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Paul Wilkinson (Random House)

Compared in the blurb on the back cover to Ian MacDonaldâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s fascinating Beatles book, Revolution In The Head, Rat Salad is an attempt to dissect the music and career of Sabbath in the same way MacDonald did the Fab Four. Author Paul Wilkinson had me offside right from his Forward, where he seems to be saying, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Any young people reading this should put this book down and fuck off straight away because this is beyond you. Things were much better back in my day, back when music really meant something. There is nothing dangerous anymore and there is no underground and there are no musicians left Black Sabbath

who arenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t doing it because they want to be stars. And by the way, Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m really closeminded and old.â&#x20AC;? Misguided arrogance is hard to take - as Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m sure UNBELIEVABLY Bad readers will attest - but his rant carries such an air of ignorant elitism that I knew it was going to be hard for me to like the rest of this book. Chapter one gets underway with an attempt to set the scene in â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;67 by reeling off a four-page list of events up until 1969 which seems copied straight from The Sixties: That Tumultuous Decade, or some such reference book. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s a lazy and shoddy beginning. By the time we get to Ozzy, Tony, Geezer and Bill weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve been through the San Francisco counter-culture revolution, the Vietnam war, the Boston Strangler, the Monterey Pop Festival, James Earl Ray, Sirhan Sirhan, Charlie Manson and the inauguration of Richard Nixon. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m not sure what all that American history has to do with a heavy metal band from the English midlands, but the bombardment of facts really lacks â&#x20AC;&#x153;oomphâ&#x20AC;?.

Persevering, however, I come to discover Wilkinsonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s observations on Sabbath can be quite interesting when he sticks to the subject. In relating the tale of the band during the peak years 19691975, he uses a quirky style that is appealing but also a bit uneven and inconsistent. He has researched his Sabbath well, but he tends to inject too many personal details about his own dull life with very little purpose beyond selfindulgence.

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Compiled in tidy fashion by Terry Gilliam aficionado and writer Bob McCabe from hours and hours of interviews and diary entries, it dedicates a chapter to the early childhood of each Python before explaining the entire history of the troupe using a mix of quotes from the various members. Since Graham Chapman is now dead, they reuse snippets of old interviews or include insights from his brother, John, and longtime partner David Sherlock. Chapmanâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s homosexuality and drunkenness (one of Michael Palinâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s diary entries from 1970 describes him as the â&#x20AC;&#x153;high priest of hedonismâ&#x20AC;?) provide several of the most amusing anecdotes of the whole book.

It gets bogged down occasionally, especially in their rather boring university years at Cambridge and Oxford, and starts to repeat itself unnecessarily at various points. But still, there are very few stones left unturned by these honest, not to mention funny, recollections on the life of Python.

Monty Python

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Reaching to the core of everyoneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s sense of humour, Monty Python sorts people into two distinct categories; those who get it and those who donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t. For those who do, this is the aural history of Python as told by the six members of this monumentally influential English

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original in most respects, they amp up the attack velocity to brutal levels, while the already sketchy vocal melody gets flattened out further by the atonal singing. Both bands restore vibrancy to two aging punk tunes, making it one of those 45s you can just keep flipping over again and again.

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Straightjacket Nation

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“We Don’t Live There Anymore” / “For A Maid” (Pias)

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Melbourne punk groups Eddy Current Suppression Ring and Straightjacket Nation take one side apiece and each select one glorious old punk tune to rip into. Eddy Current - a band who have only released vinyl thus far in the form of two 7-inches - do “Boy Can I Dance Good”, originally

by Cleveland trash monkeys The Pagans.

Puffing out his Aussie accent, singer Brendan Suppression mirrors a certain naievity in the lyrics, while the band captures the essence of The Pagans’ original. Straightjacket Nation go right for the throat with a savage version of The Saints’ “(I’m) Stranded” that sounds so overloaded it’s liable to rip your speakers open on the way out. Staying true to the

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A Belgian four-piece who unfairly get labeled as stoner in reviews, Millionaire enjoyed a bit of hype because Josh Homme produced their latest album, Paradisiac and guitarist Tim Vanhamel played in the Eagles Of Death Metal.

With massive production and lush rock riffing, , Millionaire have the potential to be every Muse, Nine Inch Nails and Queens Of The Stone Age fan’s second favourite band. However, as the A-side of this 45, “We Don’t Live There Anymore” shows, they’re maybe just a bit too out there to translate that hype into sales.

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A groovy psychedelic hard rock explosion with electronic flourishes, the crystalline Bob Rockstyle production of this Paradisiac track is even more noticeable when you flip the single over for the non-album B-side, “For A Maid”.

Sounding like a well-produced demo with more of a live band feel, it’s still totally indicative of Millionaire’s idiosyncratic blending of influences and desire to offer an original take on hard rock.

A bit too nice for me to be a fan though.

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With a name like Throwing The Goat (slang for giving the “Devil Sign”) and the words “Attack. Power. Crush. Destroy.” written boldly across the front of this single, you’d better prepare for some good time extreme metal. Containing members of The Blacklist, Demonother, Eddy Current Suppression Ring, Mindsnare and Blood Duster, Throwing The Goat sound like Turbonegro circa-Ass Cobra with the Venom factor cranked up to eleven and a half. Hand-numbered (I got #12 / 500) on disgusting turquoise vinyl, the A-side features a hectic dose of bogan black death entitled “Feast On The Blood”. Neither incredibly fast nor incredibly complex, it’s just plain hectic. Starting off all slow and doomy, the second-side serving, “I Blasphemer” soon reverts to a similar steady-pace and Venom-style. Lyrics like “Blasphemer! Demon spawn from hell,” add to the authenticity of the sound, while at the same time have a laugh at the genre’s expense. The guitar solo is the icing on that same cake. It’s on Drug Bust – a name you can trust, kinda.

#PVKXCPVCIG

PO Box 90 Mortlake VIC 3272 Email: emma182@hotmail.com Cost: $3. For mat: A5 size.

52 pages - b&w.

Antivantage is one of the coolest zines around. And itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s not a contrived, bullshit kinda cool, but a genuinely cool kinda cool!

For a bargain three bucks this sucker is action-packed full of local punk/ hardcore interviews with bands who rarely get the exposure anywhere else. Maybe itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;cos they suck? Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll let you be the judge. Editor Emma does an amazing job design-wise, using her scanner on a bunch of random objects like childâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s spelling blocks, boxes of ammunition and safety pins then incorporating them into the look of the zine. The way the layout and content come together is both unique and a bit psychotic. Accompanying the interview with punk/hardcore band Another Way are images photocopied from the fashion pages of Vogue or something - not a single picture of the band to be found anywhere. Even better, though, is the way a box of Kong Foo Sing fortune cookies is utilized in the layout of an interview with pop punkers Feeble Squirt. Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m pretty sure Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d hate most of the bands in here if I heard them, but the writing is of a decent standard and it's done with a good sense of humour.

Antivantage has got it going on in so many ways. Now if youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll excuse me, Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m off to steal a few of Emmaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s design-concepts.

#TI[NG

www.loss4words.com/ argylezine PO Box 72 Wilston QLD 4051 Email: argyle_zine@yahoo. com Cost: $3.50. For mat: A5 size.

32 pages - b&w.

Argyle zine is an A5 punk job from Queensland that looks as though it was designed by someone who just discovered desktop publishing last week. The sad thing is, it never seems to improve. With extremely dodgy clipart, too many lo resolution images, and the tackiest fonts in the world of computing, the main thing holding this back is not limited resources but a lack of imagination.

But, letâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s face facts, cosmetically, a zine is entitled to suck balls any way it wants to. So I won't waste space dissing the design. The proof of a good zine is in the readinâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;, right? But alas, I can only report that Argyle falls short in that department too. If the articles were kept to simple question and answer format I reckon I wouldâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve gotten a lot more out of issue #7. Mindsnare, Against Me! and Every Time I Die (amongst others) is a decent line-up of bands in my books, but as it is you have to wade through too much regurgitated â&#x20AC;&#x153;insightâ&#x20AC;?, incorrect grammar and blatant mistakes to get to the real juice, i.e. the quotes from the artist.

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www.longgoneloser.com PO Box 18 Modbury North SA 5092 Email: Damo@longgoneloser. com Cost: $7 ppd. For mat: A4 size. 60 pages - b&w w/ 4-col cover.

Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m proud to say that what editor Damo does with Long Gone Loser was a huge inspiration when deciding to start up UNBELIEVABLY Bad. But I am nowhere near as honest as that guy in opening up and baring my soul to my readers. Damo seems to find catharsis in exposing his tribulations in life and love in the pages of LGL. Issue 11 was his best issue so far, with the best cover design so far - a righteous Guitar Wolf live shot dominating a resplendent gold motif. Inside there was interviews with Righteous Pigsloving former Playboy Playmate of the Year, Corinna Harney, as well as The Specimens, Detroit Cobras, Riverboat Gamblers, Black Dirt, Million-Dollar Marxists, Wendy James (Transvision Vamp) and loads more. Damo has a policy of reviewing every CD he is sent, meaning the review pages are jam-packed, yet I canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t help but sense heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s sitting on the fence sometimes, which is a shame because his writing really is at its best when it comes straight from the heart. German-born reviewer Horst rules the CD reviews pages every issue with his utterly demented Hasselhoff and Kraftwerk-obsessed rants.

/WVKP[

PO Box 4 Enmore NSW 2042 Email: mutineers@graffiti.net Cost: Free. For mat: A5 size.

16 pages - b&w.

Subtitled â&#x20AC;&#x153;A Paper Of Anarchistic Ideas & Actionsâ&#x20AC;?, this â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;zine is another arm of a community collective called Mutiny, which was started several years ago in Sydney with the aim of offering resistance to the Iraq war. Now branching out to get involved in other causes, this sixteen page unstapled book is to be issued monthly as an awareness raiser for the group. Where some political magazines like the now defunct class war publication Angry People let emotion guide their pen hand, Mutiny remains for the most part level-headed and realistic about the issues at hand. The review section runs a critical eye over a couple of books, a film, and a political rally. The rally review is the coolest. â&#x20AC;&#x153;Three years on,â&#x20AC;? writes reviewer Vikram, â&#x20AC;&#x153;each rally seems quite similar - the same speakers, same (approximate) numbers, same walk around the block, same sense of achieving nothing.â&#x20AC;? He pines for the kind of action they get in â&#x20AC;&#x153;todayâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Franceâ&#x20AC;?, and elsewhere in Mutiny you get an insight into what he means, with a four-page spiel written by

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student activists on the frontlines at Sorbonne University in France in March this year. Sounds like heaps of fun over there, kids.

Officeworks copying and stapling the bastard together - an admirable labour of love for a kid way into the hardcore scene. With a very staunch, old school, cut-and-paste design that is the essence of zine, Billyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s choice of bands reflect his right as editor of his own publication to do whatever the fuck he likes. Thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s love all over this thing - Billyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s love for punk (Justice, Perish The Thought, Kids Like Us, Burn For Me, etc.), and Billyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s love for cutting shit out and pasting it down. Thereâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s some wild cut-and-paste action going on here, including whole pages where every line has been cut-and-pasted, usually over the top of some old Hammer horror movie poster posing as a background. Other random design flourishes also help to make this special â&#x20AC;&#x201C; check out the cover with E.T. flying across and Scrooge McDuck running off the page! The outside back cover features a killer photo of Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five alongside the announcement that Issue 2 of Piece Of Cake is coming soon. For the uninitiated, â&#x20AC;&#x153;Soonâ&#x20AC;? in zine editorâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s language means anytime in the next five years.

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PO Box 575 Gosford NSW 2250 Email: mattdicknose@yahoo. com.au Cost: $4 ppd. For mat: A5 size.

40 pages - b&w.

The mainstream media are milking the â&#x20AC;&#x153;un-Australianâ&#x20AC;? cow for all sheâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s worth of late and the debate chases its tale over exactly what un-Australian means. In Nerf Jihad I found an independent publication that I would say is proudly â&#x20AC;&#x153;Australianâ&#x20AC;? without being jingoistic. After reading these three issues cover to cover I felt perky and refreshed â&#x20AC;&#x201C; happy to be infused with some good old Aussie spirit. If I was a backpacker living overseas Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d feel much more nostalgic reading an issue of Nerf Jihad than some boring copy of TNT. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s full of that subtle Aussie humour (you know the one weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re always proudly saying Americans donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t get) where nothing is sacred and big business is not to be respected. Most other Nerf Jihad reviews Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve read have only focused on the correspondence between Nerf Jihadâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s creator Matt Ford and his hit-list of corporate targets â&#x20AC;&#x201C; TV stations, celebrities, beverage companies and the like. But there is a lot of other random stuff that is sure to strike a chord with anyone who spent formative years in Australia. I could especially relate to Mattâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s theory on the relationship between a familyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s financial situation and the kind of ice-blocks they served to guests (issue #5). The creation of Nerf Jihad is a more than admirable pursuit â&#x20AC;&#x201C; and more young Aussies should be out there distilling their unique opinions into a tangible produce. [Angie Von Helle]

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PO Box 3220 Redfern NSW 2016 Email: moshtactics@hotmail. com Cost: $3.50. For mat: A4 size.

40 pages - b&w.

I bought Piece Of Cake from its editor, Billy Frank, at a Sunday afternoon Against Me! show at Bar Broadway in March. Heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d spent all day down at

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56 Lang Terrace Northgate QLD 4013 Email: missbunny666@ hotmail.com, lost_broken_ confused18@hotmail.com Cost: Free. For mat: A5 size.

24 pages - b&w.

A cute little zine done by two cute Queensland girls thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s very crafty and kitschy with plenty of love gone in. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s also extremely boring if you donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know them and donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t care for Coheed & Cambria and Tori Amos. With a basic black and white chequer-board photocopied cover, the title, The Revenant Romantic, has been stenciled on in funky green and pink paint.

The design on the inside pages is a bit hit and miss, with the emphasis seemingly on wasting as much space with as little content as possible. There is a whole page where each of the girls, Bunny and Sparkle, list their top twelve of thirteen favourite songs. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s good to see young kids being creative and incorporating their love of music into a personal zine, but maybe Bunny and Sparkle shouldâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ve checked whether anyone gave a fuck first. Maybe some trees could have been saved. But hey, itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s free so what the fuck am I complaining about? Oh yeah, now I remember, complaining rules!

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n establishing his American Museum in New York in 1841, showbiz pioneer Phineas T. Barnum started a tradition of publicly exhibiting physical phenomena that would last well over a hundred years. Though rising political correctness, modern medical advancements and a vastly increased array of new entertainment options have since all conspired to destroy the circus sideshow forever, at one stage in the late 19th century there was believed to be more than one hundred displayers of living human oddities in America alone.

Exhibits ranged from the horrendously bogus – Hairy Mary from Borneo was nothing more than a monkey in a dress – to the authentically disturbing – see Johnny Eck, the Half Boy from UB#2. But out of all the bearded ladies, Siamese twins, amputees, albinos, hermaphrodites, man-children, midgets, giants, fat people, skinny people, elastic men, tattooed women, snake boys, bird girls, etc., no curiosity was as fervently in demand as a hairy human face. And the most famous hairy face of them all belonged to Jo-Jo the Dog-Faced Boy. Jo-Jo was born Feodor Adrianovitch Jefticheff (aka Fedor Jeftichew, aka Theodore Peteroff) in 1868 in Finland, which was then part of the Czarist Russian empire. His mother, Nadia Petrova, was said to have been a “professional” mistress, while his father, Adrian Maximovitch Jefticheff, suffered from a disease called hypertrichosis lanuginosa (aka “Mexican Wolfboy Syndrome”) which resigned him to working in sideshows mainly in France where he was billed under the name

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L'Homme Chien (translation: Man-Dog).

Having inherited his father’s furry affliction, the young pup, Fedor, started life by being exhibited alongside the old man in shows throughout Europe. At age sixteen he signed a contract for a solo stint in London under the care of English circus manager Charles Reynolds before being lured to the US a year later by the father of the sideshow himself, PT. Barnum.

Barnum, a trailblazer in the superlatives of circus language and one of the early masters of marketing hyperbole, bestowed upon young Fedor the moniker Jo-Jo the Dog-Faced Boy. At the same time he concocted a story to capture the public’s imagination about a hunter in Kostrama, Russia who had tracked Jo-Jo and his father to their cave and captured them.

Spinning this sensational tale during Jo-Jo’s act, Barnum took pains to explain how the father had been too wild and untameable to be exhibited, as Fedor got down on all fours and played the part of savage beast for the enthralled crowd (this was in contrast to another famous freaky ball of human hair, Lionel the Lion Faced Man, who dressed in the finest clothes and read poetry to show how civil and educated he was).

Far from being a savage beast, though, Fedor was actually a highly intelligent individual who could speak Russian,

German and English. He was also fully house-trained.

While nothing concrete is known about his attitude towards his career as a freakshow exhibit, reports of ongoing difficulties over his refusal to bark on demand suggest a strong sense of personal pride.

Despite this unprofessionalism, Jo-Jo the Dog-Faced Boy had one of the most successful runs of any sideshow freak in history. Arriving on the scene during what was the golden age of freakiness, he was able to command one of the highest salaries of any oddball in the game.

Working for a variety of different employers throughout his life, Fedor toured Europe and the US extensively. In 1902 he was the subject of a short silent documentary made in France by the Biograph & Mutoscope Company, but less than two years later on January 31st, 1904 he died of pneumonia while in Salonica, Turkey (now part of Greece). He was 35 years old.

Though extremely rare, hypertrichosis is a condition that still affects some individuals. In 2003 it was reported that a Welsh circus performer named Colin Wilberforce, who went under the name “Jo-Jo” in his act, lost a legal case against the Circus Le Petomane who had forbidden him to shave his lucrative pelt mid-season. After being exonerated by the judge, the Circus-owner, Adophe Petomane, explained: “I know it makes it difficult for him [Wilberforce] to do ordinary things like going to the pub and meet girls so I have every sympathy. I don't mind what he does with his facial hair - dying it, curling it, spiking it up with gel as long as he's hairy. People come to our circus to see his act as a classic dog-faced boy - it’s part of a long tradition of gawking at people who are different.”

So next time you’re having a bad hair day, spare a thought for old Jo-Jo, huh?