
- Details
- By Robert Brokenmouth
- Hits: 417
There's No Bones in Ice Cream. Sylvain Sylvain's Story of the The New York Dolls
by Sylvain Sylvain
Omnibus Press
I’m not sure I have the right perspective on our PM, Anthony Albanese, who was recently tempted into saying, while cameras churned, that he’d “date, shag and marry” Kylie Minogue.
When I first heard this titty-bit passing for news, I cackled immoderately (as I’m sure we all did) but as I spluttered my cocoa up the wrong way and out my nose, a rather inappropriate thought popped into my head: Would Kylie date, shag and marry Albanese?
I mean, I can just about see her turning on the ol’ charm and putting up with Albo’s boring, well-meant, old-man chitchat on a date, and even closing her eyes and wishing he were someone else while Albo thumped the mattress but, c’mon, marry?
Is there ANYONE, in this or any other universe, who thinks Kyles would actually tie the knot with ol’ Albo?
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- By Robert Brokenmouth
- Hits: 2259
(Pondering the passing of time, punk, and the “new” Young Charlatans record, “'1978”, released on Eminent Vinyl, and featuring a short interview with Harry Howard.)
UK writer Kris Needs expresses it best, I think. In his introduction to his 2010 “Dirty Water 2. More Birth of Punk Attitude” CD compilation, Needs denies trying to nail down "any kind of definitive punk thesis", and instead tries "to show how the age-old attitude which shaped it could not be confined to any one time, place or big bang”.
He goes on to describe punk as "an eternal spirit", explaining that the "desire to achieve or express personal freedom is one major uniting theme, whether an attitude born out of everyday struggle or desire to upend existing musical forms, which could spark in anyone from guitar-toting wild men and electronic alchemists to street corner finger-poppers or expressionistic black music movements such as bebop and free jazz."
Feel free to disagree, of course.
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- By Robert Brokenmouth
- Hits: 932
Boris and Merzbow. Artist supplied.
Just quickly, do you like Pulp? Jarvis Cocker do it for you? Lovely. Pulp will be playing for free at Elder Park, as part of the Adelaide Festival (AF), and those with the 1990s in their souls will, I'm sure, be in attendance. Many, of course, will simply go because it's a big gig, it's free, and they're curious.
If you were going to see Pulp out of curiosity, might I suggest you spend money and choose a more interesting and likely worthwhile bunch of gigs?
The Adelaide Festival runs from 27 February to 15 March and, as a rule, there's very little for most folks. Why? Well, partly it's that not everyone is into culture and investigating same. Yes, it's down to taste generally, and there's only a few things you can do about that.
I mean, the sporty sorts have to be catered for, of course, but they have it all their own way for months, what with cricket, tennis and Olympic stuff cluttering up the telly (which, of course, I no longer watch).
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- By Robert Brokenmouth
- Hits: 917

So many of us rock'n'roll fans buy into the mythology of it all. But I have often wondered, at the top tiers, apart from the music, the idolisation of the audiences and the implied streams of sex and drugs, what else is left at the end of the day?
Well, there are a number of options. Drug addiction, decay, tragedy (or tragicomedy) and an early death; perhaps a few flops and a crawl back to the mansion and sodden reminiscences (perhaps followed by a reunion/final tour which is critically acclaimed by folk who were never there at the start, but which critically disappoints everyone who was, and everyone who was a fan until those appalling limp todgers flipped from between the flies).
Or perhaps extravagant, opulent mansions, models and bimbos and more drugs. And, perhaps, trainsets.
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- By Robert Brokenmouth
- Hits: 1784
You recall the Monty Python sketch about the poor sod who goes on telly to promote his book and discovers to his horror that the TV presenter is only interested in his lame nickname, “Arthur ‘Two Sheds’ Jackson”?
Books are damned difficult to start, maintain and complete; any author should be proud of their achievement in completing a book, never mind getting the sod published. However, Jackson's long hours and hard work are worth precisely zilch in the eyes of the TV presenter and his bosses: all they care about is the ratings scored by making far more of Jackson's pathetic nick-name than it deserves.
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- By Robert Brokenmouth
- Hits: 5330

The column's title is not a phrase that scans too easily, I admit. However, it seems obvious from where I sit that 'rock'n'roll' has well and truly been eclipsed by a similarly oikish pack of breadheads.
Certainly, the famous phrase that Ian Dury popularised has resonated down the years. However, back when Dury wrote the song, “sex'n'drugs'n'rock'n'roll” was once a way of life for millions, whether they be journos, execs, stars, musicians, musos, and grubby proles.
What's different today? Market forces, basically. In 1977, one person could still buy a house, car and put a kid through school on one wage. Today that's a laughable concept. People have less spare time and cash, for one thing; and when they do have the cash, they have other life-distractions.
- The rise (and The Fall) of cover bands
- Stones or Diamonds? A Penny for your thoughts
- Dumb Country meets Dark Country
- Fake it till you make it...30 years later
- Do your research and help Ollie Olsen
- That's Entrainment? I can't believe it's not metal
- Of unintended labels and everything being louder than everything else
