Watch This Space!

Where Do You Go (My Lovely)

Sooooo Tired.

Been away down the south coast with good new friends, good food & drink and of course, fantastic tunes! I've returned with a frothing attitude for some new tunes. I collaborated musically in the mind with my new man Jordie and such my aural horizons have been redefined. Somewhat. Just catching up on new musical interests & artists.

ThingsOnMyMind:

1st. Treasure Fingers is Tres Cool.

2nd. Ted & Francis are awesome (we already knew that)

3rd. I am about to embark upon possibly one of the best fortnights these many aimless weeks of the year have seen. stay tuned for more deets and info in our upcoming '100th Post Monster Mash'

N.A.S.A - Gifted (Treasure Fingers Remix)

Last but not least. A mixtape for Ollie, who is so graciously and perpetually enjoying the damp green tipi forrest tents and bandstand banger stages of Splendor this weekend. More on his endeavors during our Monster Mash Post.

Sosueme In The Grass Mixtape - Joyride & Hansom

Tracklist:

-Intro - "Wayne Coyne from The Flaming Lips"
-Into The Galaxy (Grand Master Flash Remix) - Midnight Juggernauts
-24 Hour Party People - Happy Mondays
-Don't Be On With Her - Miami Horror
-One More Chance - Bloc Party
-Heart In Races - Architecture In Helsinki
-A Message To You Rudy - The Specials
-Time To Pretend - MGMT
-Drapht - Jimmy Rickard
-Polka - Yves Klein Blue
-Hollywood - Art vs Science
-Skeleton Boy - Friendly Fires

I suck at life

Today in Sydney on this day of rest that is Sunday, the shining sun is the only thing in the sky, there are two budgies flirting with each other in the backyard, and I’m on the fucking computer about to watch ‘Zack and Miri Make A Porno’. I’m such a shitcunt. Probably the worst human ever. I should be doing something constructive, or at least lying out in the backyard listening to the radio and catching some of that sweet Vitamin D. In my head I keep planning this week up the coast in the Summer with a few friends, including Bekay. Our days spent sleeping at the beach with the radio permanently on, bodysurfing, and shoving Chicken Chippies from the local kiosk with that suspicious "gravy shit" into our fat gobs. Our nights spent watching Point Break on repeat, at the pub, fightin the local cunts, and having our wounds tendered to by the girlfriends of the dudes we fought the night before but won over because of our ridiculously good bodysurfing while we all watch the sunrise over the ocean. These thoughts get me out of bed at 3am for work on these Winter mornings. I was just on the Monster Children site and found a link to this Aussie site displaying a collection of Bodysurfing photos from around the globe. It's a way of life.





http://bodysurf.com.au/

Ain't nothin' but a Gangsta party. A motherfuckin' Gansta Party.

‘1, 2, whoop whoop!’… Bekay heard a five year old kid shout at the lights in the city last weekend. He must have been off his tits at the Bloody Beetroots two weeks ago. It was of course a terribly trashy and utterly mental night.

With a ham-flu infested Bekay given up his ticket for that Friday night, it was up to another sickly-looking and hungover friend to fill his sneakers. The doors to the Metro didn’t even open until 10pm, and even though we got there at around 10.45pm, the line of the usual munters was already reaching the end of the laneway next to the Metro. If a sniffer dog had walked through the lane at that time it probably would have had an aneurysm. Now I know this sounds really wank-tastic, but the air was electric. Or I was just hankerin’ for some ridiculously large bass. I just love my fish (I’m hilarious aye aye!). One big downer though was the venue. The Metro simply sucks John Holmes-proportions dick. It’s soulless and the dancefloor seems way too wide for the stage. The Enmore and Forum are far superior beings. Eating drugs seemed to cheer everybody else up about the venue location anyway.

This guy was the best dressed fella there. Trackpants and fingerless gloves is the definition of cool.

If you ever see the fat bald man on the right behind some decks, bottle him so he can't "flex" anymore.

"Yay, no more Acid Jacks!"

The Beetroots weren’t even on until 2am and Ajax had pulled out for reasons unbeknownst to me, so I was getting antsy. Luckily in his place was one half of Act Yo Age from Ajax’s own Sweat It Out label, who was great for a warm aural rub-up. Unfortunately the dickcheese duo that followed, Acid Jacks, were like Fatty and Skinny having sex; one of them looked like a chubby wrestler, lazing around, repeatedly telling the crowd to ‘flex’ for some reason, while the slimmer and more agile one got the job done. It seemed like everybody had already peaked by the end of their set, but they probably just weren’t moving because Acid Jacks were shit. During this whole time there was a douchebag from One Love filming party people, trying to get them to do “fucked up shit” like drink Smirnoff out of their shoes, or get two “mad bitches” to hook up with each other. Cos there ain’t no madder cunts than the One Love crew, eh?

Finally 2am rolled around, and when the Lucha Libre-masked goons aka Bloody Beetroots appeared, everybody went spastic, obviously. They began the banger assault with their remix of Proxy’s ‘Who the Fuck Are You?’, which cut into the mindless bass of ‘Warp’. While everybody was absolutely losing their shit, and of course their shirts, we were just getting pushed further away from the stage and feeling nothing, if you get me. The only option was getting different stuff, and eventually that worked out. Halfway through the set when we heard the guitars of the Beastie Boys ‘Sabotage’, we threw our heads into the air and howled. We’d finally transformed into terrible beasts like the rest of the munters, our sexy dancing was evolving into erratic bouncing. Oh no!

After about 80 minutes of ridiculous bass, I thought they were going to end fittingly after Daft Punk’s ‘One More Time’, or the Soulwax remix of MGMT’s ‘Kids’ with everybody chanting the “Da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da-daaaaa” part. But nope, they ended with an encore of ‘Warp’. By this time we had ended up in the balcony part, and so had a perfect view of the entire pulsating dancefloor down below. By now everybody would have peaked, but as soon as we all heard the apocalyptic sound of clocks ticking, followed by a ‘1,2, whoop whoop!’, we all went fucking apeshit. I never thought I would see one at a DJ night, but with the lethal combination of ecstasy, testosterone, homoeroticism, and the two filthy I-talians behind the decks, it was inevitable a death pit would open up. This was shortly followed by the muscly Beetroot jumping on the speakers then crowdsurfing, the skinny Beetroot starting the song again because the security guards wouldn’t let him crowdsurf, and me hanging off the balcony screaming at the top of my lungs like a dickhead.

photos: OneLove (i.e. the terrible place)

The Bloody Beetroots are undoubtedly big dirty douchebags with their talk of combining Punk and Classical ethics into dance music, and although I left the gig feeling dirty for having attended, they can throw down a hectic party of super fun. They’re coming back again later in the year for the Stereosonic festival, so if you want to get mental, go see them! I think the night was summed up in all of it’s trashy glory when a girl in front of us was power spewing on the dancefloor while everybody screamed ‘Riverside motherfucker!’. Stay classy Sydney…

Watch the entire video because this is the end of the show with 'Warp' and all the crowdsurfing and insanity. You can see the skinny Beetroot start the song again because security won't let him crowdsurf. Halfway through you can see the Beetroots turn red because they are so smokin' hot they are on fire!

"The Destination is still unknown to me" - cyberandom.

I was planning on becoming a raving scene kid for Damn Arms, yet it seems I've arrived late to the party. I've missed out on all their greatness. Almost. Damn Arms is splitting up, thats fine. I am still however tres keen for their posthumous Bang Gang 12" release Destination: Remixes EP. In fact I'm even content and enthusiastic in following their separate solo exploits as Das Moth (Tim) and G.L.O.V.E.S (Yama) respectively. I'll follow these artists formally of 'Damn Arms' to keep the memory alive. To be a raving scene kid!

Oh We Oh!

G.L.O.V.E.S has tonnes out, however Tim's Das Moth is a relatively new outfit and is currently in production with some 'cutters records stalwarts' such as the perviously blogged Ben Browning, on new material. He does have this epic 'house' music permeating mixtape though. OMG another Mixtape. They are awesome are they not.

Tokio Disko ("Let me tell you something about House music") Mix - Das Moth.

Tracklisitng:

1. GARY LOW – YOU ARE A DANGER [ROMEO EROTIC REMIX]
2. YOUNG MONDAY – SAT BY THE C.
3. OLIVER CHEATHAM – GET DOWN SATURDAY NIGHT.
4. TEMPEST TRIO – DO YOU LIKE THE WAY THAT IT FEELS.
5. CHAKA KHAN – FATE [TODD TERJE EDIT]
6. DEBORAH WASHINGTON – ROCK IT.
7. FIVE SPECIAL – WHY LEAVE US ALONE [LARRY LEVAN REMIX]
8. PATRICE RUSHEN – FORGET ME NOTS.
9. TRACEY WEBB – SURE SHOT [INSTRUMENTAL MIX]
10. CHATEAU FLIGHT – PRISM.
11. FRANKIE GOES TO HOLLYWOOD – RELAX [NY MIX]
12. BLACK IVORY – MAINLINE.
13. AURRA – CHECKING YOU OUT.
14. JEANETTE LADY DAY – COME LET ME LOVE YOU.
15. DYNASTY – DAY & NIGHT

" But when will I see you again?"

To do it, or not to do it?

That be the question for Splendour next weekend. I have never done it before. Or mushrooms. Syd Barrett makes it look so relaxing, just lying there on the rock in the warm sun, blissed out, becoming one with nature. The two main topics of conversation I have with a guy at work, are Japanese girls, and acid. Simply because both are beautiful. I'm scared to do it though. All the talk of bad trips involving encounters with demonic entities put the fear into me. I've probably just gotta chill the fuck out and stop being such a pussy. Splendour in the Grass, Byron Bay, the Flaming Lips live, a road trip, and the probable chance the site turns into a field of mud, is the best possible combination I could have to do it right? I remember having the 'drug' talk with Mum a few years ago, her denouncing them, etc. She told me about the one time she took acid when she was around my age. She said she was in the car, driving with her friends to a party, and she just repeatedly saw the same house over and over again as they drove, like in the background of cartoons. Nothing special or inspiring for me. In situations like this maybe we should just ask ourselves, 'What would Hunter S. Thompson do?'. Probably swallow fifteen tabs, pull a gun on a security guard, finger a prostitute and shout a lot.

Rock-it-ta-bill-at-eeee 1.0

Lets take some music for example. I love this remix. Seb. Tellier. Sex. Kilometer. Journey. steam. moan. shriek! He's the french Giorgio Moroder in countless nuances.

A mod-con sunglassed hesuz "off to orgy Island" - Oli

He's a wise-man, a preacher. Like a shaman of sensual ordinance. A distance traveller where it counts. He drops the moans like sugar. Takes everything within silk sheets that pent up four bedposts. This remix takes the aftermentioned verbatim.

Sébastien Tellier - Kilometer (Aeroplane 'italo '84 Remix)

More Seb adventures to come!

reCalibrate.

No more mixtapes.

For now at least.

Something Fresh for you readers (if there are many at all) is the revelation I have a new appreciation and respect for New Balance (NB) trainers, specifically the retro scheme that they have been releasing for around 10 years now. Assisting with the re-emergence of the brand, numerous collaborations between NB models and sneaker-stores has catered for an explosion of viral awareness meditation for the brand. Lets just say I'm sold on the new product (technically old, but its all retro goodness). Recently a Brit has set-up a blog dedicated to the happy snaps of peeps rockin' NB, aptly titled New Balance Unlimited.

I drool at this.

In recent NB news, Solebox aficionados, have announced a finale to their highly popular and sought after collaborative series with NB and the 1500 model. I luckily own their most recent addition, the 'Nazar eye'. Their last offering however, features a twist and re-release of their original collaboration. A new red 1500 will release along side the formidably hard to find, green counterpart.

I hope to get oily hands on greenie or both. A fitting farewell nonetheless.

'Meanwhile....At the Hall of Justice'

Fruit and vegies can go smoke some dicks. I have to go to work again in an hour because I called back in this afternoon even though I already worked this morning, and my Itunes basically just killed itself and deleted all of my music. Luckily these artworks I found are preventing me from kicking in this computer screen. They are part of the 'Meanwhile… At the Hall of Justice' exhibition that is coinciding with the San Diego Comic-Con in the U.S. I want to go to a massive comic convention before I die. Possibly dress up as Batman, and hook up with another comic geek-girl dressed like Catwoman. These appropriated artworks of superheroes are funny and from several different artists I don't know. The one with a teary-eyed Rogue holding a dead bird is my favourite . I want to save her. We would never able to touch, but she'll sing me Taylor Swift covers on a battered acoustic guitar in that husky southern accent of hers. That would be better than sex any day.





The site for the exhibition is here. But the entire artworks aren't up yet which sucks.

http://subtextstore.com/blog

Dude.

my sisters 21st the other night.

Rad.

Dandy.

Kinda sandy. (wtf)

But oh so like candy. I Gobbled it up and and had a blast.

Let me try to contain myself.

music. Temper traps sweet disposition sounds just like basement jaxx raindrops. Its in the melodic vocal points.

But lets, for now, celebrate the grand and oh so grudge electro of CSK OK.

I really want to see him burn some decks in the flesh.

Destination Unknown (Marietta cover) - CSK OK

Thrasher 1985: The Complete Fifth Year

Mondo bizarro! Look what the most excellent dudes at Thrasher magazine have gone and done. They have scanned every page from all of the 1985 issues. I don’t skate. I tried to when I was younger, in fact spent a couple of hundred dollars on a board at Manly Blades, but I sucked serious arse so just gave up like a little bitch. My little brother ended up starting on that board a few years ago, so it wasn’t wasted. He was obsessed and pretty fucking good at skating, but is more into guitar now. I had this awesome ABC Kids video when I was little, and it had this one 80s clip with all of these kids skating and riding BMXs, but I’m not sure what happened to it. These pictures remind me of that. But like anybody I can still appreciate a good skating photo. They make me want to become a pro skater, getting paid to skate, bong, travel, and just be generally mad. Bodacious!



Z Boy - Jay Adams


I want that costume. Bad.




Hairy skating butts. The best kind of butt.


That's Tony Hawk


Shit yeah. Bad Brains.




This is where the party's at! I mean, here's the link to the 1985 collection at the Thrasher site. I'm such a douche.


Thrasher 1985 Issues

30 Rock is just the Muppet Show with real people!

I was reading that really well written free newspaper, MX, on the train home today and came across this important piece of information that brought me to my knees. One of Bekay and meself's favourite comedies, 30 Rock, is just a rip-off of the Muppet Show!



Through meticulous detective work, this bastard BRIAN LYNCH has uncovered the horrible truth. But I can't handle the truth! Even though Tina Fey looks like a hot substitute teacher, she's a thief. His findings are unfortunately here.

I know it's hard to accept Bekay bro, but we'll get through it one beer and tear at a time