....

and closer...

......

into the blur

Just a normal night in...

Pussy Face

- this is Ziggy

Quote of the Day

I'm a huge fan of the work of Fernando Pessoa. 'The Book of Disquiet' is one of those books I can just dip into whenever I feel the urge and the words nearly always resonate with whatever's going on in my own head. Here's one such excerpt I pulled up earlier:
"I have never loved anybody. What I have loved the most are my feelings - states of conscious viscosity, impressions of a quick ear, smells which are a means, for the humility of the external world, to speak to me, to talk to me about the past (so easily recalled by smells), that is to provide me with more reality, more emotions than a mere loaf of bread cooking at the back of an old bakery, as on that distant afternoon when I was coming back from the burial of an uncle who loved me deeply, and when I felt the sweetness of a minor appeasement, from what I have no idea.
That is my morality, or my metaphysics, in other words, what I am: the ultimate Passer-by, of everything and even of my soul: I belong to nothing, desire nothing, am nothing - an abstract centre of impersonal feelings, a sensitive mirror fallen by chance and pointed towards the diversity of the world. After all that, I have no idea if I am happy or unhappy: it is of little or no importance to me.

The Ugliness of Perfection

Here's a trend that really irks me - plastic surgery for cosmetic purposes. Whether it's cosmetic 'enhancements' such as eyelid scraping, brow lifts, lip fillers, facelifts, nose jobs, collagen injections, laser skin treatments, breast augmentation or botox, it just perpetuates the very dodgy idea of a perfect beauty and the idea that normal signs of ageing are flaws - ie unattractive - so must therefore be erased.

But just what is it that's really going on here? Fear of death? Fear of being unloved, unattractive and unwanted simply because of being (and looking) older? Fear that we are nothing unless we conform to some conformist idea of exterior beauty - throughout our existence - with our faces frozen in the look of our youth or altered to resemble the perceived perfection of our superstar idols' appearances? Surely, this is a shallow view. You'd think that as we grow older, we would grow stronger and wiser in character. So just what is wrong with reflecting this on the outside? Why is it that we only perceive beauty in youthful faces and bodies?

To my thinking, unless we are hideously disfigured - by birth or accident - or so heavy in the breasts that it is a burden on our skeletons, this search for (apparent) perfection is a very disturbing trend indeed. Even worse, is that women's magazines now discuss cosmetic enhancement in much the same way as skin care products and makeup - that is, as a part of women's general upkeep. Unfortunately, more and more people are turning to these procedures. They're routinely shown on tv makeover shows as ways to gain confidence. However, I don't want to live in a world where most people pay a fortune to erase signs of age and the rest of us are judged as hideous, simply because we don't conform to such stereotypes of beauty. In that world, everyone is looking more and more alike anyway. And this is hardly a triumph for women - to be spending their hard-earned cash on erasing the signs of their lives. Although only the wealthy can really afford this sort of thing, of course it's spreading to the rest of the population who, unhappy with the apparent insignificance of their own existences, aim to be just like their wealthy celebrity idols. The proliferation of celebrity tv shows and magazines only perpetuates this. If only I had Angelina Jolie's lips, I would feel so much more confident and desirable. Blah! Many of the results of cosmetic surgery procedures leave much to be desired anyway.

We are all going to die. We are born, we grow, we bloom and form relationships with others and hopefully grow wiser and more beautiful as we learn who we are and try to better ourselves as human beings. I am all for the idea of looking and feeling the best that we can for our ages, but maybe we should be focusing on our health instead - what we're eating, what we're thinking and what we're doing with our lives. If we just can't get happy with who we are, we should see a shrink or, at least, find something to do.

R.I.P. Micky Barry (4 February 1961 - 16 June 2009)

Another month rolls by and I had, of course, intended to write about a couple of luminary figures who passed away fairly recently. Nonetheless, my distractions continued and last week there was a bombshell. I was informed that my friend Micky - who I have known since 1980 - passed away in Brisbane, after a brief - but difficult - battle with cancer.
I am not going to talk details of his illness here. I only wish to say that Micky was one of the very best (isn't it always the best ones?) - probably the brightest person I have ever met - brilliantly smart, well-read, kind, caring and always low-maintenance. He made do with very little and - most impressively - had no concern at all for material things. I spent time with him during a difficult part of my own life - staying with him in northern New South Wales, where he lived simply in the bush for a while. He sincerely cared about Planet Earth and was an amazing gardener who could make anything grow. He put into practice what most people just mouth off about and was the most environmentally-responsible person I have ever met, impressing me greatly with his knowledge of bush craft. His mind was always inquiring - almost child-like. A true Peter Pan - always enthused about what was going on!
Around the time I met him, someone said that he was so smart you could ask him to solve a mathematical puzzle and he would solve it in seconds, without writing anything down. I tried it once - asking him something like: "What's 8,439 divided by 497" and he gave me a correct answer within a couple of seconds.
When I was staying in the bush with him, we had a conversation about death and about people's obsession with leaving legacies - being remembered for things. He told me he aspired to leaving nothing and felt that was the most responsible thing to do - to leave no trace.
This was the sort of man Micky Barry was.
He will be buried tomorrow on his brother's property, around where he used to live - in the bush - as he would've wanted. He will be sadly missed by many people.

Been A Bit Distracted

Autumn in Sydney. There's been too much to distract myself with - and too much rain. Cut off from the world in my apartment building, because someone smashed up our intercom system - two weeks ago. The quotes to replace it are too expensive, apparently. A literary luminary has died - J G Ballard. I'll miss those novels, but there are older ones still to catch up with. An Australian activist died also two or so months ago - Fred cole, the originator of 'BUGA Up' (Billboards Using Graffiti Artists Against Unhealth Promotions), who achieved his goal of banishing tobacco advertising in his lifetime (I'll post more about this later).
In the meantime, there's been so much wonderful music. Some current favourites include:
The Field - 'Yesterday and Today'
Martyn - 'Great Lengths'
Hell - 'Teufelswerk'
Pom Pom - 'Pom Pom'...
...and many more, of course.
Back soon.

Day In The Life

A day in the life of a wanker
I walked through the city quickly today - with only my missions on my mind. Everything's shabby. A sense of strain. Half of the centre is pretty much gutted - in construction. My favourite bus route - out to one of Sydney's more pleasant inner suburbs. Left-leaning bourgeois leafiness - common sense attitude. I see a specialist. And I see lots of people who bought amazing local houses four decades or so ago. But everyone is really nice.
It's a very sunny day.
Next stop, Redeye Records to treat myself. Yay! Joris Voorn 'Balance' (double cd of seamless, textured blends of contemporary electronic stuff) and 'Fever Ray's debut.
I went running - on my new route - on the road at the top of the hill and away from the rustling of rats. They are getting bigger and bolder. Last week, I noticed some sudden movement in the grass next to the path and saw a rat, presumably about to dart out of the way. But suddenly, it had grabbed onto my foot and was clinging on! Yes, seriously.
I screamed and flung my leg out as I kept running and it flew off. It looked so funny as it flew briefly through the air that I couldn't help laughing, despite the horror of it all.

Telco/Technology Meltdown

After changing my ISP recently, I unfortunately found myself without properly-functioning internet for several days. Basically, my life shut down. I couldn't work, couldn't contact people, couldn't do anything that I do, because pretty much everything involves my connecting to the net. Instead, I spent my time on the phone (which itself wasn't working for two days), waiting eternities for someone to answer; listening endlessly to moronic, computerised instructions; getting conflicting information and generally having my patience tested to the hilt. At one point, I got into such a state that I actually contemplated suicide (well, almost!). Ridiculous? Maybe. In basically just a decade, so much of our lives depend on this technology - and on technology in general. I've even heard that (apparently anyway) our domestic appliances will eventually all be controlled and synchronised via the internet. Gawd help us all!

Summer Blank

Yes, I've been neglecting this blog lately. First, it was the distraction of the festive season and then the oppressive humidity of January, turning that month into nothing more than a blank. With Sydney in party mode en masse, somehow everything is geared to this time of year. Every music group and performance artist you had been dying to see for years all turn up at once - to perform, along with dozens of others, at numerous daytime events where, if you should be so inclined to attend, you swelter in the sun as you try to catch the acts you love and hope they don't overlap on different stages.
Temperatures can soar to over 40 degrees and can be accompanied by a hair dryer-like wind that burns as it blows. Forget gentle, cooling breezes. This feels more like some kind of radiation, which burns your skin in minutes and can even be felt through open windows when indoors. It's insane to walk around outside, of course, unless covered in long sleeves, hat, parasol or, at the very least, slathered in 30+. But everywhere, hordes of people are out and about, apparently loving it. When shopping for groceries in the evenings, I see many people - especially young tourists - seemingly oblivious to the extreme sunburn they've been afflicted with after a day at the beach. It always looks so painful and I wonder how they can look so calm about it. To make things worse, Daylight Saving extends the daylight hours to last until after 8.30pm (I would suggest Night Saving as a much better option!).

And now, February is turning tragic, with bushfires ravaging Victoria, destroying thousands of homes and lives. With 183 already confirmed dead and countless others injured, the toll is set to rise. Summertime in Australia is what people look forward to through the winter months and what visitors appear to expect.
At least now, it's raining and back to 22 degrees - for a week or so, at least. I feel like I can breathe again.

A is for.....

I found this list somewhere in an old pile of photocopied material - pretty sure it's copied (and edited) from an old issue of 'Vague' magazine (published in the '80s in the UK). Here goes:

ART An increasingly inadequate substitute for sex
BLOOD BANK Is there any other kind?
THE BORN-AGAIN Twice too often
CIVILISATION The biosphere's skin disease
CLASS WAR The war to end all wars
COUNTER-CULTURE Less of more of the same
COUPLES Monogamy is monotony
CYNICISM Long since surpassed by events
DISEASE Very dangerous. A leading cause of doctors
ELECTIONS Dumbocracy in action
FAITH Fatal
FEMINISM Equality with men? A paltry ambition
FREE TIME Work the boss doesn't pay you for
FULL EMPLOYMENT A threat, not a promise
GOVERNMENT Guns don't kill. Politicians do
GURUS A good mantra is hard to find
HIPPIES Running on empty
JUDGES Doddering despots in clown suits
LAW Crime without punishment
LAWYERS Life-support systems for mouths
THE LEFT Left behind
LEISURE Paying and playing are mutually exclusive
LIBERALS Conservatives with guilty consciences
LIBERTARIANISM All the freedom that money can buy
LIFE AFTER DEATH Why wait?
MARXISM The highest stage of capitalism
MASOCHISM Like taking your work home with you
MYSTICS Have incommunicable insights they won't shut up about
NECROPHILIA A social disease
NIHILISTS Going beyond good and evil, they stopped half-way
PLEASURE Interludes that accentuate pain
POLICE Terrorists with the right credentials
POLITICS Like a pond, the scum rise to the top
PREJUDICE Folk sociology
PROPERTY Is theft and theft is proper
PUNKS Hippies with amnesia
RADIO EVANGELISTS Less aural sects, more oral sex
RELATIONSHIPS Being alone together
RELIGION Deifying your defects
THE RIGHT Wrong
THE 'SCENE' How to be different like everybody else
SEX An increasingly inadequate substitute for masturbation
SOCIALISTS Sheep in wolves' clothing
TEACHERS Outclassed

Rethinking the Rational

Note:
BTW, I take back any previous suggestion that to be 'rational' is a desirable human trait. My mind isn't quite made up on that one.
I talk such a lot of shit.

Dust

'I would like to explode, flow, crumble into dust, and my disintegration would be my masterpiece. I would like to melt in the world and for the world to melt..in me..'
- e.m. cioran -

How Could I...

I tried to look at that Zev performance again and couldn't believe I'd originally liked it. On this viewing, it just seemed pretentious and dull. Would've been best as some kind of background installation. Very low-impact and tired. Almost bored.
But then, maybe that was the point.

Performance by Zev

I've always enjoyed Zev's music (both recordings and performance) and performance/installation art. As far back as the 1980s (and probably earlier), he has consistently delivered innovative, challenging and relevant work.

Click this link to view a performance that took place in New York yesterday.

Painting by Kukula

Sensible

WHERE ARE THE SENSIBLE PEOPLE?
WHAT ABOUT A RATIONAL, AGENDA-FREE, RESPONSIBLE, COMPASSIONATE POINT OF VIEW for a change?
instead of celebrities, politicians and stars
doing all the talking
I WANT TO SEE IT ON THE NEWS NOW

'After The Fire' - painting by Audrey Kawasaki

- The Art of Audrey Kawasaki -

Keeping Music Evil - The Brian Jonestown Massacre at The Factory (Thurs 28th Aug)

Anything could’ve happened at this gig - or not happened. Newcomers to the band may be forgiven for focusing on front man/songwriter Anton Newcombe’s reputation as a kind of unhinged, drug-addled genius - especially those who arrived at the music via Ondi Timoner’s (albeit fascinating) 2004 documentary DIG - or dismiss him as a mimic. Whatever way you figure it, one thing's for sure. This is sublimely cool music.
In a career spanning back to around 1990, the band has accrued an impressively large catalogue of releases, featuring a sound that suggests '60s and '70s psychedelia. Think early Stones, The Who, The Byrds and, at times, even The Velvet Underground, Pink Floyd and David Bowie. But the sound is their own and, despite any points of reference, sounds fresh and relevant now as I'm sure it will be in many years to come.

This was the first of two Sydney gigs and an all-ages one. It was Anton's birthday. The 7 band members played for over two hours, with Anton talking and free-associating between songs to the audience and introducing band members. At times, Anton even heckled. We sung 'Happy Birthday' and band members (though not all of them) became progressively wasted, as they passed a bottle of something hard-looking between each other during these breaks. In a recent interview, Anton said that they just like to get drunk and see what happens. I really appreciate that from a music group - the creative, in-the-now approach to playing live (however achieved) - rather than just delivering a perfect set every time - introducing that level of chaos and uncertainty. They seemed to focus on playing their all-out epic, killer songs, including personal favourites from the several BJM cds I own. Somehow, I was transported. It was almost like an out-of-body experience, which lasted for over two blissful hours. I felt like I was being cradled in the arms of long-lost soulmates - in heaven. As if I'd been reunited with my true family, after a lifetime of being alone. Apparently, I was dancing, but I was only aware of the music and of my friend standing close behind me as I kind of floated through the hours. And no, I wasn't intoxicated!

Wonderful playing, but it never lost its rawness and became slick. At times, it actually felt like it could just fall apart, like all the best rock 'n' roll music does. Tambourine man, Joel Gion, serves as a sort of anchor to the music - always beating perfect time and stoically cool in expression, but about midway through songs, I noticed his mouth would have worked its way to being slightly open, with a euphoric smile plastered over it.

A transcendent experience.


Photo credits: Lori Baily

Green

Getting up the other day, things just didn't feel right - a continuous high-pitched drone clearly audible over the other typical sounds of another daily bread day grinding along. Disturbing dream images lingered. Things seemed out of sorts in the kitchen somehow and outside my living room window too, where I caught a flash of something green, somewhere around the building entrance on the opposite side of the road. Walking over to the window, I looked out and saw a group of people in turtle costumes holding a banner - with the words 'Don't Say Ta Ta To Turtles' boldly emblazoned on it (with 'Greenpeace' logo underneath) - facing the street (and my window) for a photographer.
I guess it's not that strange really.
I guess you had to be there.

Yes, I Had A Wonderful Birthday, Thank You

Today's State of Mind

Love Sucks

And so it goes ....... living the life of a serial monogamist. You get to a certain age and start to wonder if relationships are really worth it - the emotional highs and lows, the laughter, tears, pain and inevitable disappointment, and the ensuing retreat back to being on one's own again. I realise I'm sounding like a tortured cynic, but let's face it - nothing lasts forever.
I used to place so much importance on finding a life companion, but somehow it ends up going wrong. Inevitably, I guess I prefer to live alone, but that hasn't stopped me from blaming myself for not compromising enough for the sake of the other person. But just how much of myself was I expected to subdue?
I'm envious of those people who find someone they click with and keep it together. I wonder if they are just faking and forcing it, or if one is simply compromising all for the sake of the other - and biting their own tongues till there is barely a sliver left.

Without wanting to get all feminist about it, I have perceived that men, in general (no one person in particular), expect their women partners to be endlessly agreeable with them; consistently assertive and hot in bed; always interesting, tender, attentive, caring and reassuring; happy to be around them when they're uncommunicative (focused on tv or otherwise distracted); non-talkative, non-complaining, non-confrontational and endlessly placating their egos. We're supposed to put up with moodiness, being undermined, neglected and even taken for granted, but never ever complain. I smehow just can't seem to go the distance, myself.

Pressing On

Train fades into abyss

Living walls glow up white

Star night stain shooting fire

Red horizons

A force more bright than death

Tuned to 128,000 separate radio frequencies

Cross bearing Jesus for killing

Civilisations aimed at heavens

The war's already here

What stands if freedom fails?

Who dies if freedom lives?

Autumn Days

Went for a wander, beyond the usual zones, in the aftermath of a storm that had turned day into darkness as the southerly blew in. Fork lightning streaked across the sky and it rained hard. It's less than an hour later and the light is so bright and strange that things appear transparent as I move towards them. Big dried-out plane tree leaves are mounting in the streets and stairs.

Returning the dvd.....

Female pressure

Give this a whirl:

('Amoureux Solitaires' - music by Jenny Goes Dirty (Jennifer Cardini) & video by 4youreye)

http://www.femalepressure.net/videos/14_amoureux_4ye.html

Still confused and missing my friend

Never Trust an Ex

Still a little freaked out. Just can't get a grip on what happened - over two weeks ago now. My best friend, who happens to be my ex-lover, finally felt it was time for him to meet my new lover. It had been years since we'd been intimately involved and I had been with my new partner since last year, so it had been getting a little difficult for me, isolating the two of them from each other and seeing them separately.
My ex and I had talked clearly about it - how we really wanted to remain friends (we do genuinely like each other, after all!) and how, since we consider ourselves older and more mature now, we would rather expand our friendships, rather than reduce them. He had told me he was ready and invited us both for dinner, along with a couple of his other (female) friends, who I am also familiar with.

I should've known something was up after an hour or so, when my ex was clearly having problems getting started on dinner - so that his friend (who'd been at his flat for 4 hours previous to our arrival) actually cooked the food. But aside from seeing him 'drift away' to somewhere in his head sometime after eating - which isn't exactly unlike him - I thought things were going nicely. But then, after one person left (the cook), my ex surprised me in the kitchen as I was tidying up a bit, telling me how difficult it had all been for him, and after this sat down in front of the final three of us and, across the coffee table, proceeded to tell us - almost aggressively - "this has been really difficult for me, you know ...... after seven years ...... seven years ........ but you two, you're good ..." Added to this condescension, was an implied suggestion that he was handing me over to the new person. OK, so it'd been difficult for him. If he'd said this once, it would've been alright. But he just kept repeating it, necessitating a hasty exit on our part. Were we supposed to just sit there, feeling ambushed, tipsy with booze, food and a few hours of pleasantness, and then have a 'deep and meaningful' with him about his feelings? And what made him think it was appropriate to say these things to my (horrified!) new lover, who barely knows him and whose comfort (in this situation) I was responsible for? I felt hurt and betrayed that he would put me in such a position, because I had always felt I could trust him more than anyone else.

He's not around at the moment. When he called - 2 days after the event - and discovered I'd been upset by what had transpired, he was defensive at first and then avoided seeing me for the next 10 days (even after I'd suggested - via an email - that we needed to talk face-to-face about how to move on from there) and then went overseas for his planned 17-day holiday/visit to his family on Tuesday the 1st of April. However, he (predictably) phoned on the Sunday evening before leaving and left a message on my machine and then phoned me the day before departing - no doubt in an attempt to put his mind at ease for the good of his holiday. In the aftermath, he seems perplexed that I should feel this way. He appears to think it was big of him to do what he did and ask us over for dinner. He thinks it was all about him and his feelings - clearly no one else's. But it's not as if he'd been rejected or dumped or cheated on.

Anyway, I couldn't answer my phone, because I suddenly don't know how to relate to him any more. The person I thought I knew doesn't appear to exist.

Listening to........

TODAY'S FAVOURITES:

Pantha du Prince - This Bliss (Dial)
Dark, deep bass and melodic ambience, with a rolling beat and beautiful use of bells. Melancholic, nostalgic, subtly uplifting, but never wimpy. Sort of soothing and punchy at the same time. Rich and luscious.

The Field - From Here We Go Sublime (Kompakt)
Wonderful, unique sound. Emotionally charged, deliciously beautiful sequences that switch from one to the other - each pitched differently, yet perfectly complementary to the one following and preceding. Actually, it's best listened to, rather than described.

Chromatics - IV ... Night Drive (Italians Do It Better)
Laid-back synth-pop songs with melancholy vocals (by Ruth Radelet) that are almost deadpan, or somehow bored-sounding. Almost electro, almost pop, with a lovely beguiling quality. It never dominates, but it draws you in to listen, without trying to grab you. The last track - an instrumental - is the longest one and quite different from the others, in that it chugs along somewhat 'Suicide'-like, but slower and without the vocals. Intriguing.

James Holden - At The Controls (Resist)
From 2006, this is an awesome 2-cd mix and the third from the 'At The Controls' series that I've heard. They all share an eclecticism that is really refreshing and this one includes acts as diverse as Trans Am, Malcolm Middleton, Paul Kalkbrenner, Water Lilly, Petter, Death In Vegas, Aphex Twin and 2 tracks from Holden's 'The Idiots Are Winning' ('Border Community'), along with an Apparat remix of label-mate Nathan Fake's 'Charlie's House'. Consistently engaging and interesting.

Too busy listening to music right now.......

Summer Rant

Summer holidays in Sydney, Australia and so what's going on?

1. Killer humidity - like living in a sauna. It rained during almost all of December.
2. Everyone's in party mode and, amongst the well-heeled, money - especially in my "inner-city wealth ghetto" (thanks SB) - is ostentatiously splashed around, whereas those less well-off seem somehow absent from the mix.
3. I'm broke - as are most other people in the 'less well-off' category - after Xmas and New Year festivities.
4. I'm working. Gotta rake in that part-time (yep! only paid for hours worked) income.
5. Too much entertainment/culture. Too little time. The Sydney Festival and a bunch of music mega-gigs are a case of too much all at once. It'd be nice if they could be spread over the year a bit better.
6. Yobbos galore. 'tis the season of the backyard bogan barbecue, that inevitably continues late into the night - and often all night - and keeps those of us trying to sleep in the bedrooms of blocks of units above from getting any sleep.
7. Too many drunks everywhere. Too many horrendously sunburnt backpackers in my local supermarket queue. Too many idiots. Too many suntans. Roll on autumn........

Try this - new rock'n'roll by 'The Kills'. Love it!

www.youtube.com/watch?v=w3fZP7QC4PE

Crazy recurring dream

I hadn't experienced recurring nightmares since I was a child when, for quite a long period of time, I kept waking in a cold sweat after dreaming that the world outside my family backdoor was basically a spaghetti can of writhing earthworms that I was compelled - through some obscure but powerful sense of duty - to burrow my way through, in order to get to the nextdoor neighbours' house.

And now, it's happening again. I keep having this dream that I am - in fact, rather joyously - picking up one big live white rat after another, putting them into a big kitchen blender and ..... errr.... blending them! And, strangest of all, the resulting product is a combination of bright red blood and scraps of pure white rat fur. The whole time, I am jolly and laughing, despite waking in that familiar cold sweat.

I wonder what Dr Freud would have to say about this one?

Central Business District

Picture this. When walking the other day in Sydney's CBD, I passed a bar that I'd never noticed before - not that there's any wonder! It's entrance was starkly lit and it's name - emblazoned over the door - 'PRIVILEGE'. In fact, the only reason I noticed was that its two security dudes, unusually dressed-up (for bouncers, anyway) in suits and ties, were standing outside on the street arguing with another suited knob, bemoaning the number of "idiots, with no understanding of interest rates!" They were getting really aggressive about it. Gee, that's right. We're all economists now!

It just looked so funny - these basically dumb-assed bogans arguing about interest rates underneath a sign saying PRIVILEGE.

(Perhaps you had to be there!)

Yes, I still go to gigs!

Yes, yes. I've been neglecting my blog, I know. There's just been too much other stuff on. Like a bunch of contemporary electronic music gigs by Euro acts such as M.A.N.D.Y. and Booka Shade from Berlin's 'Get Physical' record label and Trentemoller, from Denmark. Continuing to create within the evolving tradition of house music, the artists from the 'Get Physical' catalogue, along with Trentemoller and many others, represent a new-wave of tech house music that can be intelligent, diverse, danceworthy or shoe-gazey, beautiful, disarming, melancholy and/or playful.
So where are the people over 30? Going to these gigs is like a kind of playground dance party for 'Schoolies Week' or something, with literally hordes of hyped-up kids. At the 'Booka Shade' gig on Wednesday night (at the Gaelic Club, Surry Hills), the majority were no more than 18 or 19.
In a packed house, there certainly didn't seem to be anyone over 25 - all seemingly cashed-up, with the latest flashy mobiles and cameras in the air, expensive clothes and those darned shaggy (emo-style) hairdos, with very expensive, elaborate colouring (males and females). They went absolutely nuts!! Most of the subtlety of those great pieces of music was somewhat lost in a rather muddy mix and in all the yelling by the crowd. It started almost like a kind of Booka Shade 'medley' - with tracks merging as if they'd tailored it to be for a pumping, rave/dance party and these jumped-up kids.

By contrast, Trentemoller retained all that subtlety - as he mixed his music live last Friday night. Some pieces were more upbeat, but overall it was complex and rich - the crowd more shoe-gazey, rather than dance-crazy.


I wasn't disappointed though - neither was my friend. Although perplexed about the fact that we have never (at these last 3 gigs) glimpsed anyone else over 30 (possibly 20!) there, apart from us, it was extremely interesting - almost as if we're on the crest of a new music renaissance, or something - a new movement for the iPod generation. Each track they began was greeted with a deafening roar of approval (and hands in the air) by the crowd - almost drowning the music out. They were so off their faces, the whole venue was a moshpit. We stood above, watching and listening. I kept thinking, why is it that I love this music, when none of my supposed 'peers' (being similarly passionate about great music) are here? Where are they? This is good stuff! Yet the crowd seems to be made up of pretty nice kids really.....no punch-ups, despite the overload of testosterone and 'out-of-it' state of them - friendly. I never felt self-consciously 'older', or anything. One girl, brushing past me excitedly, said "Sorry, I'm just a girl!" When I answered: "What?" (semi-horrified at her self-effacement), she said sweetly: "I'm a girl and you're a girl too" and touched my shoulder, kind of affectionately. They were just totally into the music! And they certainly approved of Booka Shade. These kids at least have good taste - and why wouldn't they? - even if it is doled out to them via 'Ministry of Sound' compilations, or whatever. It was great to feel included (yep! we actually did feel a part of it and welcome there) and it's great (I must say) to be alive and actually living. Hail the new music revolution!

Exhumation

Since APEC, it's as if I've been asleep. There's still plenty to complain about and there are plenty of good things too, so why do I feel like I've just been unearthed?

Been hearing a lot of criticism by academics about the proliferation of blogging - all these people with nothing much to say apparently shouldn't bother. But I thought that was the point - giving everyone a voice.

It makes me feel like just listing what I eat for meals. Instead, I'll post a photo of my work/office area.....

until I have something more to say......

Thank Goodness It's Over

After a week of dreary rainy weather, the sun is out this morning. George W. Bush and the other 20 'world leaders' have flown home, the constant drone of helicopters overhead has dissipated, the streets are ours again and life is returning to normal after the insanity of APEC. It's over and thank gawd for that!

The main protest march on Saturday resulted in no more than one or two "scuffles" amongst a 5,000-strong crowd that was almost overwhelmed by nearly as many police and the riot squad (and looking at the TV footage, those involved in these scuffles seemed innocuous, as they were overwhelmed by police officers. Perhaps they'd thrown coke cans or something.) The water cannon and other new shiny black riot squad vehicles were not used. All the media hype and politicians' rants about "violent protesters" were unfounded as Sydney residents took to the streets to voice their protest against our involvement in the war in Iraq; the Government's industrial relations policies and their lack of any real commitment to dealing with climate change, beyond the nuclear option of course; and APEC itself and a refusal to be intimidated into 'staying away and doing what we're told' - exercising our democratic right to protest. Instead, the Asia-Pacific Economic Co-operation forum resulted in nothing other than a plan to sell 'yellowcake' to Russia and get better access to military technology from the US, as well as making some sort of nuke deal with them.

The excuse given for the ridiculously intensive security during the event was to keep terrorists and protesters out, but it was pretty clear that it was to keep the protesters out, especially after the prank executed by the 'Chaser' team, where they managed to get through two checkpoints in a limousine bearing Canadian flags and security passes that had "JOKE" printed on them clearly and the word "Insecurity" instead of "Security". As exec producer Julian Morrow said: "It's a good thing we weren't Al Qaeda".

APEC = A Pointless Expensive Crock

Thanks to 'The Chaser' team (satirical ABC TV show) for staging the fake motorcade on Thursday. And unbelievable too in that although they had been certain they wouldn't even get past one checkpoint before being stopped, they had cleared two of them and were only 10 metres from Bush's hotel before they handed themselves over to police. The police chief is furious at their irresponsibility, since they could easily have been shot by snipers - positioned on rooftops all over the area. As Julian Morrow (executive producer and one of the stars of the show) commented yesterday, it's a good thing they weren't Al Qaeda members (Chas was even dressed as Osama bin Laden!). Their limo was decorated with Canadian flags, even though no one noticed that Canada isn't even being represented at APEC. Hilarious! Also great is that this was the only thing that has ,so far, hit world headlines about the entire forum.
The Australian culture of larrikinism is alive!
And for those who haven't seen it:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i-DDWGKqGmI

Fuck Off APEC!

There's a nasty virus about to descend upon Sydney. It's called the 'Asia-Pacific Economic Co-operation Forum' (APEC) and is already making us sick. To make it worse, we are all apparently supposed to just lie down, put up and shut up, as our daily lives are inconvenienced to the max - with essential services postponed, 'no go' zones and an inevitable ton of traffic chaos. And all the while, we are paying for it (a cool $300 million!) out of our money - public money.

Worst of all, we're being censored from bitching about it. Well, they're trying to get us off the streets, anyway. It's the old terrorism excuse again, of course. But we should be really pissed off. Entire precincts of city buildings are being caged off. In fact, a tall fence was erected today, at a cost to taxpayers of $1.5 million, extending along 5 kilometres of footpaths in the northern part of the CBD, as a pre-emptive measure to "protect against terrorists and protesters". Main streets must periodically shut down, just so George W. Bush and a selection of other creepy old 'world leaders' can drive in their motorcade to their destinations without interruption. Armed military helicopters will be on 24-hour patrol. Just the other night, a huge helicopter, apparently carrying out a practice operation, hovered pretty much straight above my apartment building in the city - otherwise barely moving - from 1.45am to nearly 3.30am, making sleep impossible. It's all such a big wank!

And, predictably of course, any mention of protests almost always has the word 'violent' attached these days. In a rather interesting linguistic twist, the word 'protester' has been dispensed with, in favour of 'violent protesters' (in the future, they'll probably be simply referred to as 'terrorists') who are, we are told, to blame for all inconveniences to be experienced in our city, despite the fact that there haven't actually been any protests (or terrorist attacks for that matter) as yet. It has actually been decided that the riot squad will be using a water cannon against these supposed 'violent protesters'. You can pretty much guess that such provocative assumptions are already setting emotions aflame, so that either side is likely to lose their cool early on and result in some seriously injured people and needless arrests. Democracy is being squashed and I, for one, am appalled.

This dawn could be the world's first

...Never yet has such a time existed, nor this light, nor this being which is me. What will be tomorrow shall be other, and what I shall see will be seen by reconstituted eyes, full of a new vision. (Fernando Pessoa)

'When the Veneer of Democracy Begins to Fade'......

I know it's been a while. Life's kind of taken over of late. And I know that this picture has nothing much to do with what I'm about to write. I just want it there, ok?

Anyway, a few things in 'news' land have got me going lately. First, in the lead-up to the country's federal election, opposition leader Kevin Rudd has had a smear campaign thrown at him over the fact that he'd been to a strip club in London 4 years ago and had allegedly fondled a stripper, to which, in his defence, he said he was too drunk at the time to remember. The Libs were obviously hoping to smash his squeaky clean and nerdy image, but instead it's given him a boost and shown that he 'has blood running through his veins'. Suddenly, Kev's looking a bit sexier. Anyway, it's John Howard we should be worried about. He might not have been to a strip club, but he hangs out with the likes of Dick Cheney and George Bush. Personally, I'd rather he hung out with strippers.

Germaine Greer's been in the news recently too. Around the anniversary of Princess Diana's death, she announces that Diana was "a devious moron" who slept with married men and made nuisance calls when they tried to dump her. Brilliant! Finally, someone cuts past the dreary celebrity mythology that's been built around Diana, so we can be reminded what was really going on. This was reported, along with other snippets of heavily-edited comments she'd made with typical reactionary outrage and ridicule by the media. She is almost always on the money, but her frankness is undermined as obnoxiousness by the media, men and even feminists more and more aggressively and often quite unfairly. I think the world needs Germaine Greers and I find this contemptuous attitude toward her quite strange - like a jealousy of people that tell the truth. Still, at least her boldness gets her in the papers and I guess that's the point. We should surely never underestimate the value of the ratbag.

Last, but not least, was Howard's announcement last week that he thought Australians should embrace a sense of "aspirational nationalism" to guide relations between different levels of government. (I actually thought I heard the newsreader say "national socialism".)

CSS (Cansei de ser Sexy)

OK, so it's been out for a while, but I think this group (from Brazil) is gorgeous. Almost retro in style, I think their pop songs are pure pop lusciousness. Have a squiz at this video.



And this one too!!!

Hello Kitty. Goodbye Kitty

This huge, floating thing set off again from Garden Island naval base today, after parking for 5 days across the road and down a bit from where I live. $10 million was spent in Sydney by its crew during the 5-day stop-off, so local retailers were happy. Motorists around the metro area weren't quite so impressed. With traffic restrictions everywhere - even suburbs miles and miles away - you might start to wonder if the beast actually had legs and could walk at will all over our city.

In town the other day I kept seeing young, black guys spending up big around shops like 'HMV Music', 'General Pants' and 'Hype'. Clean-cut and polite. In hot pursuit of R&R action, they still appeared to be detached from whatever it was that they were doing. Aloof.

'KItty Hawk' is about to be decommissioned and a new carrier (the 'George Washington') will succeed it.

Please Cancel Big Brother

Please cancel 'Big Brother'.
Aside from its vague appeal as tv junk food, such idle viewing can become unexpectedly and annoyingly compelling, even just to have on in the background. It's too easy to be drawn in (especially on these winter evenings), but I resent it. After watching a few episodes, the housemates, who initially come across as the usual disappointing stereotypes (despite being hyped as reflecting "all walks of life"), start appearing to be more complex - even interesting. And before I know it, it's as if they are characters in the background of my own domestic life. I even hear their voices in my dreams.
But let's face it. The makers of the show are the people having the fun here. They are the ones who have the outrageous privilege of getting to devise a scenario to fit specifically chosen people into and to psychologically profile the entrants in order to then pick the people we can watch and (well, supposedly) be entertained by. They get to create an experimental human zoo of photogenic people with contrasting personalities and devise activities for and play a part in manipulating situations between them that they hope will result in maximum entertainment value.
Another problem is the way the public votes to evict nominated housemates. Now that we are into our seventh season of the show, viewers have become very set in their ways in regard to how they vote. It's almost a guarantee that the more interesting/intense/confrontational/annoying/outrageous (or female, unless they're exceptionally vacuous) characters leave first and the winner is the most low-key, easy-going, innocuous bloke. Yet we keep watching and keep hoping that the one we end up sympathising with the most will triumph.
Frustrating and ultimately pointless.

Outfit of the Month

A month and a half has gone by. The 'Pasha Bulker' has finally been successively towed into deep water. I've taken up bowling (joking!).