Now I haven't done an appreciation post in over 2 years.
Maybe I was just saving it until now.
Maybe it took this long to find the words to put together in homage to one of my absolute closest mates that I will ever come across in my life.
How do I even know that you may ask?
You might meet someone even better than Ellen...
ITS FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE, TRUST ME.
There are some people who sweep into your life like a gust of wind that lights up a sky before a storm.
This wasn't one of those moments.
It wasn't like a soft breeze, a timid change in the weather.
Ellen hit me like a lightning bolt and ever since being electrocuted with her subtle blonde locks, I have never been the same!
Sometimes you meet people at the most unexpected of times. This was one of those times, her and Carly thudded into my life like a giant suitcase filled with an extraordinary amount of clothes that we didn't need.
Ever since that chance meeting, that just so happened that they clicked on the Topdeck confirmation button at the same time as me, my life has changed forever!
I will always hold the Queensland moments close to my heart.
If there ever was or ever will be a time where I felt more free in my life I will never know.
We smoked cigarettes off balconies, sighed in unison and cried at the thought of a departing flight on a Tiger Airways death plane.
We ran faster than a rabid shopping trolley on a path of destruction and stayed up way past our bedtimes, watching the scorching QLD sun reach its peak.
The noisy sleeping bag, the rock hard tits of Sammy Jo.
My big back, the corona bucket at Beenleigh Superdrome.
Watching Flight of Concords while your mum ironed.
NYE 2010- in the back alley as midnight struck.
Drinking litres of lambrusco over terry steak.
SPLENDOUR IN THE GRASS 2011/2012
Phone calls from the other side of the world.
Singing 'Bad Girl' by Usher through the streets of Surry Hills after a massive pasta dinner
"Who's Hayley?"
"Who the fuck is Travis?"
hip-hop, wine and Mitt
Muriel's Wedding tour.
That massive sausage at that cafe at The Rocks
I could go on and on. See you today darlin, HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY.
Now this may not be a poem that I am going to read out later tonight, but I am completely genuine in saying that if it weren't for you my life would be a trillion times more fucked.
You know what? I feel really fucking sorry for all these fucking kids nowadays who have jack shit to look up to or enjoy. I dont give a shit if I sound over the hill in that previous sentence either.
I was born in 1988 and at the time The Pretty Woman Soundtrack was going off and people had just started to see the effects of cocaine on business savvy execs. This is what I assume anyway.
Now while we may have had an embarrassing childhood with the likes of Devon Sawa and Melissa Joan Hart (which no matter how hard you try, I will never see Clarissa Explains It All as a fucking fashion icon- I will not wear one of those god forsaken floppy hats you can get fucked), but I will tell you what, I will never take back those formidable years of a young woman's life- also known as the Teenage years.
For me, it was around 2001-2006 in which I would consider myself a "teenager". 19 is such a bullshit age and you can guarantee every fuckwit 19 year old right now is saying,
"THIS IS THE LAST YEAR OF EVER BEING A TEENAGER!"
I did it, you did it too.
But the sad news for those with breast buds in the year of 2013 is the likes of Miley Cyrus' shaved puss pulsating in your face, re-tweeting shit quotes with ambiguous referencing, Instagramming their lunch box or measuring the likes they get on their physical appearance or intelligence. There is shite TV, Skrillex is a cunt and you don't need to be on a diet.
Once again, I am assuming this.
I believe I have achieved that ripe age of 25 where I am delusional in the fact that I believe that I am over the hill and can reflect fondly on the time I had as a teenager.
You remember that time right? JUST on the cusp of when the Black Eyed Peas sold out, you remember legitimately being/seeing emos, you were a Marissa or a Summer or a Seth or a Ryan or a Sandy Cohen (maybe that was just me?) Anyway, here is my compilation of some of the best shit that ever came out from when I first started smooching dudes and dry humping:
1. MURDER INC
We had Ali G In Da House which allowed the INC to be shown in true boombastic form. Here I would like to show you my myriad of Ja Rule feat Ashanti songs that have a dear spot in my heart but I will have to just settle with one (had to go the explicit version too):
2. UNWRITTEN LAW/ DASHBOARD CONFESSIONAL
I remember spending many a summer evening driving around Saratoga and Kincumber listening to Dash loudly and singing every word like my life were to end if I dropped the melancholy note. Every single lyric seemed to penetrate your soul and completely relate to every aspect of your life. Feelings were just felt so much harder back then! Or at least thats what we told ourselves as we clutched our silver goon bags to our chest and fled The Shark Tower with red tongues, stained from cheap underage alcohol concoctions.
UP ALL NIGHT- UNWRITTEN LAW
HANDS DOWN- DASHBOARD CONFESSIONAL
3. THE OC
We found out kids were getting just as fucked up as we were although we didn't have daddy's range rover to high tail it round to our dealer's house. Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley would always remind us of a burning Mega Mansion and if we ever needed to impress a girl we learned we could tell the chick that we, "stole a car....crashed it".
Death Cab For Cutie were put on our turquoise Ipod mini's which took us 6 months to properly figure out how the fuck to use.
We yearned for a modern day love story much like Marissa and Ryan and Volcheck and Johnny and that other weird guy who hosted the NYE bash and Finley Quaye's 'Dice' magically swayed our brains for the rest of our existence. We all picked who we were. We fucking did, don't deny it.
We will forever be reminded of when Trey got shot when Imogen Heap's song, 'Hide & Seek' plays.
We want to secretly go to T.J to O.D in an alley.
And when Marissa died it was the talk of the town over choc chip muffins and off oranges.
The OC will always be a mirage of what was, and we still hope Ryan stayed on the straight and narrow with his construction job and try and forget when Summer went all hippie. This is real people, and you know it to be true.
4. INCUBUS
A great majority of my friends have been to an Incubus concert, and a great majority still name them as one of their all time favourite bands.
MORNING VIEW MAN! You can't tell me you didn't ponder about which subjects to choose for your senior years without having at least one session to Aqueous Transmission?
We all relate to the five-piece like they were our older brothers, fashioning the perfect make out session and the ultimate alternative rock to find yourself to. Even I wanted to take up surfing and get a koi fish tattoo to show my utter devotion to the band.
5. THE OPEN HOUSE PARTY
Remember these? I think Corey Worthington personally ruined this notion for future generations. I remember being told about these shin digs and taking them completely seriously. Open House? I will be there whether or not I have ever seen the host's face before or not.
Drinking disgusting pre packaged bourbons and kissing the dudes at the party who most resembled Brandon Boyd.
The dude who was drinking passion pop and eventually found an acoustic guitar out of nowhere only to start strumming 'Cailin' by Unwritten Law or 'Wonderwall' by Oasis.
Lying to your parents about alcohol and even stashing the remnants in the bushes of your front yard in a back pack, thinking that somehow the backpack will take on the colours of the shrubbery like some sort of cloth chameleon.
Swilling from goon sacks and dancing to Paul Kelly. The weirdo who gets serious and draws a weapon. The constant threat of "THE COPS" and 6 packs of double blacks.
Before Facebook had events, we were running with word of mouth which produced some of the most thumping box socials the Coast had ever seen. Somehow we got our hands on underage alcohol and there was ALWAYS a fight, or at least talk of a fight.
A time for the potent potion of adolescence to collide and drink pre mixed lemony drinks with the pure intention of fucking with the law. Driving recklessly on your red P's and listening to anything but house music. Cheezels and snakes were always out on a sogged plastic tablecloth and for some reason, that staple always rang true. We were so bad ass.
The air was thick as it spread across the dim lit floor of FBI Social on a somewhat quiet Friday night. Across the road, Chris Lilley was gracing Santa Barbara amongst a pastiche of taxidermy and cherry red lightbulbs.
Gritty guitar swept across the crowd as the shrieks of one onlooker in 5 inch creepers marked the beginning of The Cairos' set. Floating bass and catchy beats set Indie Pop on fire as the quartet made their presence known to the revellers.
The Cairos were grungy and sweet at the same time. Flowery lyrics matched with an air of cool to rival even the most seasoned performers. The climactic clash of instruments made for a kaleidoscopic view of the band as you allowed your senses to become one with the peak of sounds.
The vocals from Alistair sounded like he had become the long lost love child of none other than Billy Corgan. Masculine, yet sickly sweet in a juxtaposition that became original in its own right. A garage band had been transformed into an up and coming jewel in the Australian rock crowd.
Some thoughts that swept across my mind while taking in the set were that The Cairos has a similar sound to the early Silverchair days. That 90s grit was reborn to these young bloods that had become lost on The 'Chair in the '00s.
Impressive swirling breakdowns created an almost Psychedelic screech of the guitar from Alf mixed with ominous drums from Jacob. An ultimate apathy was displayed upon the bands faces although the passion for this set could be seeing buzzing through their fingertips like electrical pulses.
It was refreshing to see a somewhat local band with so much agility and strength when it came to performing. The crowd was slowly loosening up and swishing their beverages around in unison to the sounds.
A personal highlight was seeing the band transform from grungy apocalypse to punchy Indie Pop within minutes. It was a fun transformation that showed their diversity and range. Also, their cascading guitar riffs did seem to pull on the heart strings.
They played a song off their upcoming album. An angry guitar riff soon panned out into a pop type of vibe, making for real head banger. They seemed to mesh so many genres into one set with such ease. If Courtney Love had been here 20 years ago, you could have just pictured her draped over the bulbous speakers that surrounded the stage with smeared lipstick and glazed eyes.
The crowd favourite, and reason for this tour, 'Obsession' graced the stage. It stung the ears of the crowd with it's aggressive rock vibe. The smell of a 'Cairo match' burnt in the air adding to the hot atmosphere. Flowery grunge came out to play once again and it didn't play nice. It played dirty, and everyone fucking loved it. With its vengeful drums, melancholic lyrics and beautiful breakdown- it is no wonder this track has become so popular of late.
Check out their Shed Session for 'Obsession' (try saying that 5 times really fast) which features a sexy car, bare feet, some vintage looking lounges and a majestic brunette with luscious long hair cantering in the wind- and no I am not talking about the horse.
Now you must have
noticed the inevitable hype surrounding the Season Finale of Breaking Bad
lurking on your Twitter feed, right? Well, I know each and every one of us has
a little bit of Heisenberg buried down deep inside and this a short guide on
how to break bad while sipping your morning latte, with almond milk of course.
1. For Christ’s
sakes wear a hat. Doesn’t have to be a nifty little pork pie one like Cranston
sports in the series, but at least a leather snapback will do fine. Peer your
caffeine craving eyeballs from underneath the rim and order a poached egg on
multigrain in your deepest octave. Watch the staff squirm.
2. As you take
your seat, slam your fists on the wooden table and slink deeply into your chair
that probably won’t have a back. Dude, life is hard when you are this bad ass,
you may experience some lower back twangs- but hey, this is what life in the
fast lane is all about.
3. Scatter your
chipotle/tomato sauce mix all around your plate so it looks like blood, giving
the wide-eyed barista a scathing look as you do. You know he is scared, you
kind of are too- I mean who wouldn’t get the memo that bad shit is about to go
down with that kind of display of reckless abandonment of social norms. Make sure
when you leave the establishment you leave your bacon in the shape of a ‘52’,
just to let them know how many hours you have spent streaming that show online.
4. Keep dropping
meth related jargon into casual conversation with those surrounding you. Something
like, “Wow, I could sure go for some more ICE in my acai berry smoothie” Or
“I’d like some smoked salmon with my eggs, actually I amphetaMEAN one half of
an avocado”.
Hopefully this
guide will be the first step to your recovery from such a consuming series such
as the great Breaking Bad, but for Gods sakes kids, SAY NO TO DRUGS!
So, yesterday afternoon I had the privilege of having a chat with Jacob Trotter, drummer for The Cairos, about their latest tour, single, album and everything in between.
The Cairos are currently on a whirlwind tour around Australia, with Vietnam and Singapore having already been checked off the list.
They have toured with the likes of Julian Casablancas and The Temper Trap with their new album being set to be released in early 2014.
Hopefully Jacob doesn't take my suggestion of naming their debut album, 'Mark Anthony and Cleopatra' too seriously. Jesus Christ, I thought I was meant to be the writer here, what sort of suggestion is that? Maybe I fan-girled a bit too hard and lost my brain for a moment, or maybe I really should not be involved in naming debut albums.
Either way, big thanks to Universal Music, The Cairos and especially Jacob for taking the time to have a yarn. Here's what went down:
I COULD NEVER BE DEAF: So I heard you guys just played the originally cancelled Cama Festival in Vietnam on October 12. How did that show go?
JACOB: It was cancelled but we managed to get a thrown together [gig], I guess you could call it the 'Show Must Go On'. The day before the Cama Festival was meant to start they put four of the bands together that were meant to be playing in a little club show in Hanoi City. It was absolutely phenomenal. It would have been great to play the actual festival but as far as the show went, it was really good.
ICNBD: Where would be your favourite place to play on this tour that you are on now?
J: To be honest, I would have to say Vietnam so far. It was such a wild experience. We all had a fantastic time, we all really enjoyed it.
ICNBD: Well hopefully Sydney comes close, my hometown.
J: Well I have to say Sydney is very close to our hearts as well. Second place, I would imagine.
ICNBD: Which bands would you say are your musical influences?
J: I think its kind of hard to explain because we all write songs, to varying extents. We are all pretty hands on in the process of creating The Cairos sound. Alistair, who sings and plays guitar, just loves The Beatles- he is a self-professed 'Beatlemaniac'. I think Alf and myself are more into the alternative, grungy 90s music at the moment. You can hear a bit of that in the album that is about to be released. Reuben is into harder rock, he likes The (Rolling) Stones a lot.
ICNBD: What was your inspiration behind your latest single, 'Obsession'?
J: Well, 'Obsession' was, if I remember correctly, originally started as a little acoustic demo. We were on tour in Adelaide at the time and we had a day off to ourselves and were staying at a friend's house and Alistair grabbed one of their guitars and was just mucking around. The song has a really deep tuning. The guitar is tuned down two steps. So he wrote the song on that guitar like that, it was just really a low key acoustic guitar song. Pretty much as the song stands now, just played on an acoustic guitar.
ICNBD: How did you come up with the concept of the video to tie in with the track?
J: Well, I think the concept of the video is an interesting one, I wouldn't say it is controversial but our mum's don't like it very much. We worked with the producer Alex Ryan who's a really cool director from Sydney. As obviously the EP is quite pop, quite upbeat, and this new record we are about to put out is a fairly different sound, we wanted something that reflected the dark change in the sound. So he had this idea to make this video tell the story of this guy's last meal on Death Row.
ICNBD: Have you come up with a title for the new album yet?
J: No, its a little bit up in the air at the moment. We've got a few ideas. We have been talking about it but I think we have just been so busy with touring and everything else at the moment that it's on the back burner. Hopefully soon we will know.
ICNBD: So are you going to do a 'Kings of Leon' and have a five syllable album title or something like that?
J: Ah! Maybe, I don't know if we are that adventurous. Have you got any album name suggestions?
ICNBD: Ooh! Maybe something Egypt themed like 'Mark Anthony and Cleopatra'? I am terrible at this, the ol' band names.
So where would you like to go next on the touring circuit?
J: Well we are pretty keen to get overseas and tour the album, even getting over to Vietnam and Singapore and getting to experience the music scenes over there was really eye-opening for all of us. There is a lot going on around the world. It's actually really interesting, we chatted to a few of the International bands at the Cama Festival and they were all saying that the world is taking notice of Australian bands at the moment. We would like to take our music to different countries and experience all of that.
ICNBD: Who has been your favourite band that you have played with so far?
J: There's so many! We are really lucky that pretty much in every tour we have done, we have ended up touring with ridiculously nice people. Everyone has been really friendly and I think we have learnt a lot from all the bands we have toured with. I think if I had to pick one, I would probably say The Preatures. We just had the best time with them and we really love all those guys. And girl, Izzy (Isabella Manfredi of The Preatures) who is a girl. We got along really well. We had this weird thing where all of our members linked up, their bass player and our bass player, Reuben were like the same person. It was a really serendipitous moment, touring with them.
ICNBD: Well I have got one more question for you, what would you stock in your ultimate tour rider?
J: I've been thinking about this a bit lately. I think our tour rider might need a little bit of an update. I'm going to say my tour rider will not be reflective of The Cairos because I think I like different things to them. Mine would probably be some, this is going to sound really lame, but some sweet vegetarian food I would say. Some Govinda's kind of food. I'm all about food in the rider.
DISCLAIMER: May the final statements made in the interview not incite fans to dress as any form of vegetarian Indian food to make it into The Cairos rider. No eggplants will be allowed, I do not condone the misuse of a garlic naan bread.
Make sure you get down to your local establishment to check out these guys, their touring schedule is below (wish I could have made it to the gig in the carpark!):
Triple J Unearthed alumni, The Cairos are taking a leaf from the genre of the disturbed in their new video for 'Obsession'. Hunks of meat and oceans of ruby red blood splatter into your subconscious for at least your nightmares tonight.
Grimacing old boys and billows of Winfield ciggie smoke fill your senses in this gritty accompaniment to the static and almost stoic tune of 'Obsession'. The Cairo's must be influenced by 90s fucked up flowery rockers The Smashing Pumpkins as the harmonising and guitar work sounds strangely familiar.
If you had ever sat on your back porch and wondered what happened to the main protagonist in Paul Kelly's 'How To Make Gravy', the clip to accompany 'Obsession' screams of what could have been in a sordid and slightly depraved sequel. Or at least thats how it went in my imagination.
Apathetic rock mixed with a bloody steak smeared across a convict's bearded gob? Sounds like the ultimate grunge lord's wet dream. Take a look, have a listen, then cook yourself some dinner.
FUCK HIM/HER RIGHT? Dude you will be okay and I am here to shadow your squatting while eating ice cream at the back of a Shell Garage. There is nothing wrong with that, and there is nothing wrong with this either:
1. PLOT YOUR REVENGE
Sometimes you need to sharpen your knives. Whether or not you actually peg an entire Big Mac meal through their open window or not, it is just fun to draw up some sort of blue print as to their eventual demise. Here are some handy revenge tactics:
- Spike their milk with OMO so they end up making their whites whiter while eating their Nutri Grain.
- Be heaps successful and happy with your own life, that is the harshest bullet to ever take as the Breaker upperer. Trust me.
- Slay their favourite band in front of them.
- Become friends with them and encourage them to finally explore their long awaited dream of stand up comedy, then sit back with a huge box of popcorn and watch them bomb. Make sure you drove them there too so you can piss off before they finish wiping the sweat off their brow in the "green room" and drive off laughing and listening to some bad ass babes like HAIM or something.
- Do not go on Big Brother. Its embarrassing for multiple reasons and in the end no one really wins.
- Write an epic song about the break up painting them out to look like a giant slut, win an award, sell heaps of copies, play a crowded room and then offer to lend the bastard some money.
- Have sex with some amazing rig lord with a beard and some tattoos and take a photo of you on his motorbike with sex hair and do not post it on Instagram because lets be honest if you really were having a fucking heaps mad time, you would not be choosing a fucking filter on Instagram.
2. MAKE A PLAYLIST.
The best thing you can possibly do after a break up is purge yourself of the songs that remind you of them for at least 3 months. Although once it took me a year to be able to listen to Jamiroquai without tearing up, I mean Little L is just so vague and kinda insulting- how can it not remind you of an ex boyfriend? HAH. But the beauty in this, is it allows your little ears to discover some new tunes. Here lies my ultimate "GET OVER YOUR EX" playlist:
- Get Money : Notorious B.I.G (No one knows how to make you wanna put it down on a giant wad of cash like Biggie.)
- Gypsy : Fleetwood Mac. (This is the ultimate scream singing song out of your car at 80 km/h- try it and thank me later)
- HyperParadise (Flume Remix)- Hermitude. (This song will make you want to throw caution to the wind and I am pretty sure the warped voice is saying "NEVER GETTING MARRIED, NEVER GETTING MARRIED". Yeah fuck that!)
- Anything by Kings Of Leon. (Guaranteed the dude who you went out with does not look like, act like or sing anything like Caleb Followill. So you can listen with the hope that perhaps the next one will slowly get you closer to having weird dirty southern sex with someone much like him).
- Get Free (Feat. Amber of Dirty Projectors) : Major Lazer. (The delicate beats in this tune will aid any harsh buzz from the outside world)
- Cheap And Cheerful : The Kills (Bad ass chick, bad ass Mr. Kate Moss, some wild bass and some dismissive lyrics. Nothing to make you feel cooler, in my opinion.)
- Africa : Toto. (Just do it, trust me).
3. GET RIP ROARING DRUNK.
Okay so maybe getting fucked up won't cure the heart ache but it sure as fuck will make it go away for at least a couple of hours. Get out there, throw your red lipstick all over the face of some poor bastard who now smells like Marlboro Golds and off vodka pineapples. You'll never see him again! (UNLESS YOU LIVE ON THE CENTRAL COAST)
Be THAT person. Be the one who everyone is talking about the next day, because really all it will prove to you is that other people's bullshit and opinions about you, dont really matter do they?
What do they care? Once they have their Sunday morning bacon and egg roll in their guts, they couldn't give a fuck about all the nasty shit they have judged about someone else. But really, once you have had YOUR B & E roll, do you really give a fuck about them either? MORAL OF THE STORY: When it comes down to it, no one REALLY gives a fuck about anyone but themselves. And that is fine! We are in our 20s and still sadly dealing with teenage angst offcuts, finding a job, travelling to outrageous destinations, drinking and throwing up and no one knowing about it, writing fucking stupid blog posts and instagramming our weetbix. LIFE IS FUCKING HARD.
4. BECOME A BABE.
Now I am definite and sure that you, dear reader are already a babe. And you wanna know why? It is because you would have broken up with/ been broken up with/ been rejected by a fuckwit(s) before. It is the ultimate revenge act (see point 1) when getting over an ex. The look of pure disappointment/wonderment is so delicious when you step out of the house all Baberaham Lincoln, only to face your ex-whatever. Although I do have to make a point, that this should only be truly focused on once. After that, rest assured that you are for sure a megababe and he/she knows it, so relax and don't over do it by continually rocking up to places with your hair professionally done and a new pair of slacks. No one has enough money for that shit. Oh yeah and be sure to strut. This isn't so much for the ex, but rather the new catch. Or rather, for yourself. I have a rule of thumb when walking anywhere in any venue- it doesnt matter. Whether you are on your way in/out or just on your way to the toot- fucking strut. Confidence oozes from your pores, you walk with purpose making bitches wanna be you, and dudes wanna ask you if you are a dude....fuck. Anyway my original point is to be internally and eternally confident and happy with yourself, because you are all interesting, original and fucking amazing.
5. MOVE ON.
Easier said than done, I know. But once you get those wheels in motion, and the other party starts fucking their cousin or something, the moving on process will become WAY easier. You can relax and rely on the fact that you have been yourself all along. Yeah you may have gone too far, thrown a chair or two, hit someone in the face, threw an entire beer jug on an offending party- but hey- at least you made this little thing called life, INTERESTING! I mean, what else are people going to talk about? The election? The sex slave industry? Syria?- Probably not. Find your feet, go travel and see the world and realise that maybe your convenient soulmate wasn't all they were cracked up to be. In fact, maybe you are your real soulmate and you can do anything with yourself! You can even have sex with yourself! & you don't even have to buy yourself a drink first! Fuck, you are such a slut.
The beginning of the track will strike a chord for the moody buggers out there who enjoy a succinct and hypnotic clashing of instruments to produce its own instrument in itself. The high pitched warbling mixed with spooky synth and vocals send tingles down your musical spine and cause you to rock back and forth to the crazed nature of this tune. The remix by honourary award (from me to them) LANEWAY LEGENDS OF 2013, Yeasayer definitely captures the trippy and carefree vibe that Jinja Safari portrays so well. Ominous tones to over-the-moon happy vibes are wedged in this meshing of sounds. The climactic orgasm of the song leaves you stranded with limited water and food supply in a tribal amazon of instruments and haunting vocals. Lets just say you will need more than a 1997 Board Game and a bearded Robin Williams to get you out of there!
Now I am obviously from The Central Coast of NSW. Jinja Safari are literally the jewel in the Coast's musical crown (besides beloved Kasey Chambers and Lizotte's Restaurant) and they have continued to flourish after leaving our cruiser littered shores not long ago to pursue actual dreams and not just content on working at HMV for the remainder of their lives. DISCLAIMER: This is what I assume, I have no evidence nor know Jinja Safari.
The point being, I had a little listen of their self titled album that was released on May 17 and it's like I have fallen in love. I am finding roof tops to shout from, I am shaving my legs more often, I wear red lipstick all the time and I completely and utterly revel in the tribal goodness that is Jinja Safari.
'Apple' is just so endearing and innocently beautiful. Try to listen to this song with a frown. I dare you, go on- sit there and think about how shit your life is and then watch it all be turned around with just one little ditty like this.
Complex drumming and percussion work is a common thread throughout this album, 'Relax' has hints of 1960s surfer rock infused in this upbeat lullaby. I am actually shimmying like Delta 'For Gods Sake stop yourself' Goodrem as I listen to this and for once I am alright with it.
'Oh Benzo' takes such a synth turn that you know in your heart of hearts that if The OC were still around, this track would MOST DEFINITELY be on one of their soundtrack albums. Its like Daft Punk and Lady Smith Black Mombazo had a baby at Gosford Hospital and then they started an incredible band that played to thousands at Splendour in the Grass and perpetuated the beautifully reckless way of living that occurs on that splendid weekend.
The Sitar makes a pleasant appearance in 'Harrison' mixed with hypnotic vocals that tear through your soul much like the wailing guitar riffs. This is a stand out track for me, perhaps it speaks to myself in a past life or perhaps I love the Sitar so much that I would change my name to Yusef Islam.
The final track on the album, 'Bay of Fires' fuses into a symphony of choral glory. The vocals are a definite stand out on this track with complex guitar work being a close second. The relaxed anthem is a perfect climax to a delightful and delicious nexus of music.
The true meaning of diversity is reached with Jinja Safari's album, with a colourful array of instruments making this album a must-listen for anyone who ever respects, listens to and/or appreciates the true meaning of what it is to make music. If you are listening to Rita Ora while reading this, then this album is not for you.
I was approached by Triple J Unearthed indie lord Tom Lark who describes himself as, "an artist from New Zealand making indie pop tunes." That he is.
As soon as I clicked on the YouTube link to his vid for the song, 'Hipsteranity', I was delightfully surprised at the psychedelic feel of the track. Lark looks like a cross between gnarly 90s dudes Blur and James Spader circa 1984. In other words, he pulls of a black turtle neck like nobody's business.
The screeching guitar and stoic vocals collide into a catchy tune, and coupled with the creepy, gory and sinister video-this track is bound to be a hit. I will predict now that you may even find it remixed in your local Sydney indie bar in no time!
Take a peek at the clip here (& revel in the protagonist's bushy beard and pearly specs):
WARNING: May make you feel like a Jam sandwich.
We all know Disclosure has been kicking goals lately, what with the beats on their latest track 'White Noise' that samples that drum and bass that I love so fucking much!
AlunaGeorge's squeaky warbling makes for the tune to punch through the indie house barrier like an acidic star that decided to fuck off from the other stars and screech through the solar system!
No one can deny it, don't even try to deny it- YOU LOVE THIS CHOOON!
Disclosure, you are killing it, just thought you should know and that.
I am listening to it as I type and I wanna shimmy right on out the door to make myself a little victory sandwich in celebration of this sexy little ditty.
Oh yeah, they made a video for it too. A day in the dreary life of a security guard. The stark juxtaposition of the song with the video makes for interesting viewing.
Before you know, the decrepit fourth wall is broken as our protagonist busts out some moves that would make Reverend Run blush.
Have a squiz here:
All i know is that it makes me want to walk the dim lit streets of East London so fucking bad while viewing this. I hope it has the same effect on you.
Generally, the majority of the wonderful people who read this are inherently cool. & if you are one of those people you will probably click out of this page right now because you don't give a fuck what is cool or not, right?
WRONG.
Everyone wants to look cool. Don't act like you don't. Even if it is not what the majority thinks is cool right now (bindis, deep house, goon sacks and internet language/memes), you will still find yourself adhering to a certain group in which you deem RAD.
Now, I am not ragging on you for doing such. I don't really give a shit. See what I did there?
Anyway, here is a misguided, hopeless and most probably pretentious guide on how to be cool (or just a decent human):
1. Don't have an Internet personality and a 'real life' personality.
If anyone has met me, they will know that the way I typety type type on this thing is the exact same way I talk in real life. In other words, like a drunken truck driver with too many opinions. Don't be a keyboard warrior saying obnoxious and often offensive things through the net and then not having the cajones to back it up when you are strolling down the street. It makes you look like a bigger pussy than Garfield.
2. Don't be a pretentious fuckwit.
Don't speak with an accent. It's so weird. Be a humble fuck, that is the kind people remember and want to hang out with. People who talk solely about their own escapades make me bored out of my brain. We are living in a narcissistic world that only seems to become more and more fickle by the day. Enjoy your life, don't make it everyone else's business to enjoy it for you. I for one don't look at a chick with a coffee cup and a cigarette as the be all and end all of style. Fuck, shes just having a dart and mediocre latte, let her get on with her day. Don't tweet about how cool she looks chaining a sigourney weaver, shes just stanging for a durb- let her smoke in peace.
3. Don't live your life by the pages of a magazine.
You'll spend all your money at Marnie Skillings and then by the next season you'll be sitting naked on your bed crying into the fabric wondering why you don't have any money for enchiladas that week. Magazines are fickle bastards, they will coax you into consuming anything you can and then by the next month you won't have anything to Instagram as you have taken to stripping to afford the lavish lifestyle you think that you have, when really you are getting your norks out for faschion. Alex Perry would never approve of that shit.
4. Don't be a social climber.
I always say that if someone has their head too far up their own ass, by the time they pry it from the darkest reaches of their rectum, none of their true friends will be around to see it. No one likes a drifter. Stick to who your true friends are, regardless of how cool you deem a bunch of people to be at the time. It's obvious to everyone what you are doing and no one likes to see someone else desperately clutching at the bottom of the social beanstalk.
5. DO be a friendly fucker.
Something my friends and I have noticed lately (and I cant decide whether or not this is sad) is that we are so appreciative of people who are friendly, warm and welcoming. I went to a party not long ago in the city in which every single person there was keen to get to know someone new. As an attendee who did not know a lot of the people there, it was noted how friendly people make for a great, memorable time. No one likes the dude in the akubra who just can not seem to find his papers, let alone someone he deems "interesting" to talk to.
6. Make a dick of yourself.
Yeah I went to a bush doof and yeah Bellato took his shirt off and danced with some menacing looking trees but who gives a fuck. It was hilarious and cemented memories for years to come. I always enjoy the person who is willing to make a fool of themselves and remove that constant nagging of correcting your behaviour in order to appear 'cool'. I think the coolest people are the ones who don't take themselves so seriously and have the ability to look like the biggest dick in a sea of muted mahns.
7. Keith Richards.
My motto is 'If Keith Richards is still alive, then why not?'. Live your life like Keith. Throw nervous energy and negativity to the wind. No one is better than anyone else. Fuck, I mean Keith even snorted his dad's ashes- he REALLY doesn't give a fuck. Do things that make your own life better (or worse) on your own terms, don't make it everyone else's problem. I don't really condone living your life like Keith Richards because then imagine the retiring homes when we are 80. Everyone will be snorting their roommates ashes, drinking whiskey and chain smoking flavoured cigarettes.....
1. Now I've got you in my space, I wont let go of you!
2. After reading a rather disturbing excerpt from Bret Easton Ellis' infamous novel, 'American Psycho', I think i finally understood his commentary on how intense and dedicated consumerism has the ability to distort reality. Sometimes I see some things on your various social networking outlets and wonder if some people have completely succumbed to the pull of being "cool". Whatever the fuck that means. If it makes you feel good, then do it, run with it and don't look back. But if it begins to distort your view on reality and turns you into an idiot (socially, financially or in your work life etc) then it might be time to think about who you really are without all the material possessions that surround you like a giant K Mart koombaya circle.
In this new year of 2013, I am going to try and quit trying to be "cool" and just be whoever the fuck I am. No judgement to anyone who wants to try and keep up with the Jones', but I for one, am just completely fucking exhausted.
3. Sweating from the forehead is never a good look.
4. There is something both beautiful and terrifying about watching the sun rise.
5. Louis Theroux is an amazing journalist. You should begin watching his documentaries, starting with Twilight of the Porn Star (look out for a porn star named Xander Corvus).
6. I often wonder if teenagers are still embarrassed to talk about masturbation, or if it isn't that taboo of a subject anymore? As a female, I know when I was growing up- it was thought of as 'dirty' to masturbate, but as I have gotten older, the conversations just keep on opening up much like the filthy porno mags stashed under your brother's bed.
7. I also wonder if there is anyone out there who doesn't know who Karl Pilkington is yet? If so, please google him now.
8. Taking drugs really does make your mind stop working as good, and that.
9. THE HASHTAG. Now I should write a separate blog for the infuriating little pound sign that makes everything turn to shit. I dont know why but it has become a part of everyday conversation and it just shits me to tears. I heard it on Geordie Shore the other day being used in an actual sentence. Yeah, I was watching Geordie Shore- shame on me. But fuck, technology and its fucking ridiculous language is bursting into everyday life in such a way that it feels like a fucking slapper dressed in a rhinestone clad g string bursting out of some shit cake at an 85 year old's birthday party.
I don't want to hear people say "LOL" as if it is an actual word. Fuck LOL. Now I have to muffle my laughter all the time so I dont actually laugh out loud and dignify those three letters in real existence. I am going to give myself an aneurism from all the LOLing I am holding in my nasal cavity.
But the fucking hashtag. I am gritting my teeth right now just thinking about it. I know you hate it too. I know sometimes you do it to be a smart ass, so do i! But just remember that time when Banana Paddle Pops were 90 cents and when the only hash you saw was stashed in your parent's undie drawer or at the very far lower right of your Pop's telephone. Fuck the hashtag, fuck LOL, fuck ROFLcopter and shit like that. Its all fucking stupid and when we all grow up we will be fucking embarrassed.
10. Everyone I know who has a dog seems to be the happiest people of all.
11. Sometimes the best moments are when you are en route to picking up your friends for a night out on the town. Its in these little moments you realise how lucky you are to have people in your life who aren't cunts.
14. I am beginning to feel like I am too old for this shit.
15. Understanding rap music is a talent that I believe is better than knowing how to do HTML or any of that shit. If you can understand this:
"WHAT YOU KNOW ABOUT, PUTTING BRICKS IN THE SPARE, MAN?"
Then you are officially a rap star and you should probably change your name to [INSERT TYPICAL RAP NAMESHIZZLE HERE]
Definition: I ask you a rhetorical question about the idea of opening the trunk of your car and placing large amounts of cocaine in packages inside, under, and around the extra tire stored there and in other inconspicuous places for transportation, because I know you most likely don;t have any knowledge about such a thing- although if you do, maybe we could discuss it.
SOURCE: 'Understand Rap'- William Buckholz.
16. The most relevant question that crosses a Central Coast chick's mind on a typical weekend is, "TO SIRENS OR NOT TO SIRENS?" Hey babe, do whatever you want but don't come crying to me when you have broken your ankle once again while getting low on the ice skating-like floorboards of that establishment.
17. Don't complain about being on the coast, friends with people from the coast or whether or not you are part of the coast scene while you are standing at the Beer Garden. It is a complete contradiction, save that shit for when you are kicking rocks outside The Flinders.
18. 2012 was the year of deep house and techno. I am very grateful for that. Especially for all the deep house lords that seem to be coming together like a murder of anorak clad magpies.
19. Sometimes you can drink too much lavender infused tea and knit one too many beanies before you actually turn into Frankie magazine and I am going to have to cut a picture out of you to slip into my cigarette packet so I dont have to come to grips with Bryan.
