The Self - Jeremy Gluck (SWND Records)
On other occasions, when I've introduced Jeremy Gluck's new work, I've usually referred to his previous musical collaborations. Which might have been a mistake.
It's far too easy for an outsider to pigeonhole a creative person. I've been referred to as “the guy who wrote ...” and they name a particular work. Which, while at the time that thing consumed me, is no longer the case. In fact, I've been beavering away at other things, sometimes with other people, and I find the newer works to be far more satisfying and, dare I boast, far more interesting to the half-awake public.
Covid is a fun wrecker that’s for sure; it doesn’t like entertainment, travel or adventure… and with that in mind Sunnyboys have decided to move all dates on their current tour back to give affected members the chance to fully recover.
Thursday 28 July: Sydney, Factory Theatre (sold out)
(tickets from July 1 valid for this date)
Saturday 30 July: Sydney, Factory Theatre
(tickets from July 2 valid for this date)
Friday 5 August: Byron Bay, The Northern
(tickets from July 15 valid for this date)
Saturday 6 August: Brisbane, Princess Theatre (limited tickets)
(tickets from July 16 valid for this date)
Saturday 13 August: Melbourne, Corner Hotel (sold out)
(tickets from July 9 valid for this date)
Tickets via feelpresents.com Refunds are also available at the point of purchase for those who can't make the new dates.
"Drone Warfare" (Iceage Productions)
Which is the band and which is the title? No idea. Doesn't matter, either.
Actually, the EP-thing is four tracks by four different Melbourne artists. The Bandcamp page says so, so it must be true. But none of the artists' names appear, which reminds me a little of the fake dance LP by the Silicon Teens (aka Daniel Miller of Mute Records fame). So, is this another bunch of guises behind which the head honcho of Iceage lurks?
I have no idea, and it simply doesn't matter.
Just quickly, you can't really dance to this, not unless you're out of it. You shouldn't try. Shove the volume up and lie on the floor and you'll be taken away to somewhere entirely different.
The year was 2010, Sydney-born Simon Chainsaw had been living in Brazil for about 10 years.
His local band S.C.H.K. (Simon Chainsaw & the Hippy Killers) had recently broken up. Now a free agent, he could take up opportunities to play in different territories.
He’d recently toured Brazil, Europe and Argentina and released “Fuck The Neighbours!” (cover versions of ‘70s Aussie Punk) and a proposal came in to play back in his home turf of Australia to promote the new disc.
He hooked up with three original ‘70s Aussie punks for the shows: Chris Masuak (Radio Birdman, Hitmen, Screaming Tribesmen) on guitar, Murray Shepherd (Fun Things,Screaming Tribesmen, Hitmen and The Monarchs) on drums and Bob Short (from arguably Sydney’s first punk band Filth and later Dead Rabids) switching from customary guitar to bass.
Excuse this blatant plug but we're proud to announce that “Love is Calling” - the debut album for Brisbane duo Mick Medew and Ursula and one of the special records to emerge from the fog of COVID, has fnally been released in physical form (CD) on our own I-94 Bar Records.
"Love Is Calling" has already been featured as 4ZZZ's Album of the Week in Brisbane. Mick Medew and Ursula is rock and roll legend Mick Medew (Screaming Tribesmen) and musical and life partner Ursula, formerly of underground Brisbane synth pop band Ironing Music.
“Love Is Calling” was conceived from a series of live Sunday afternoon lockdown streaming shows the duo delivered from their northern Brisbane suburbs home at the height of the pandemic. You can hear the tracks on our label Bandcamp
and the Brisbane launch is at Platform 5 Cafe & Bar, on Junction Road in Lutwyche, Brisbane, at 2pm on July 9.
Real Gone - The Naked Lunch (Aldora Britain Records)
Surf punk pop is alive, The Naked Lunch has a new single out - and what a bloody good tune it is. “Real Gone” is so catchy. A different version was recorded and released by an earlier line-up back in the 1980s and the song was written by Tony “The Kid” Robertson and Died Pretty legend Ronald S Peno. Play it loud. This is what Sydney’s underground surf rock was/is all about.
The line-up of The Lunch boasts some of Australia’s finest musicians: Tony Gibson on guitar, Murray Shepherd on drums, The Kid on bass and Steve Beaves on vocals. It’s a brilliant single to follow 2019’s “The Naked Lunch” album. The second album is on its way and has the same name as the single. “Real Gone” is real gold and I am so looking forward to hearing the long player. The song is available in digital format here.
Let me tell you, I'm excited. Expatriate Australian guitarist and singer-songwriter Michael Plater is making a welcome return to Adelaide since leaving to pursue twin careers in the UK in 2019. If I can see this guy live, I don't need to see Dark Mofo.
Now, I rate Michael Plater's songs and music so highly that I've seen him play in three states and if I were able to, I'd go see all his gigs while he's here. For the last three years he's been writing and recording like a demon, his new work eclipsing his brilliant, powerful debut, “Mythologies”..
So, Michael, you returned to the Mother Country. You didn't exactly head for the smoke and smother of London, I gather...
No, my partner, Fawnia, and I ended up living in Cornwall, way down west, right in pirate country. When we visited the Witchcraft Museum in Boscastle and, for someone like me, who’s drawn to folklore, occult history, and anything vaguely supernatural, Cornwall made perfect sense.
It’s a land of moors, standing stones, castles, and smugglers dens, with a healthy dose of mermaids, ghosts, and piskies. All the old girls in the shops call you either ‘my treasure’, ‘my lovely,’ or, even better, ‘my lover.’ The further west you go, the more impenetrable the accent gets. By the time you hit Penzance it’s like talking to some barnacled old sea dog from the 17thcentury.
It’s a place that is torn between tourism and poverty, like a lot of the U.K. Most of the beautiful old fishermen’s cottages are unfortunately second homes for ultra-rich Londoners who descend on the area en-masse in summer, which means that it’s getting harder and harder for locals to afford to live there. Or me, for that matter. But all these influences and atmospheres have definitely seeped into the music I’ve been writing and recording. I’ve also been working on a book and/or series of essays about the history of Cornish witchcraft, which I’m hoping to finish next year.
Michael is no stranger to writing books, either, with the EU Publishing website describing him thus:
In the early 1990s John Foy found himself in the eye of the storm enveloping the music industry.
Foy’s independent record label, Red Eye, had done a deal with Polydor, the Australian arm of multinational company Phonogram. A sold-out at show at Sydney’s Hordern Pavilion in 1991, headlined by Ratcat and featuring English band Ride and Red Eye bands The Clouds and Falling Joys, had awakened major labels to the commercial potential of the independent music scene. Other Red Eye bands like The Cruel Sea would surf the independent wave into the late 1990s, even after Foy withdrew from industry machinations.
Thirty years later, Foy looks back on those heady days with fondness. But even as he trawled through his archive of posters, ticket stubs and memories for his “Snaps Crack Pop!” visual collection cum autobiography, he’s not dwelling on what he should have done back in the day. Foy has always lived in the moment, for better and for worse.
"This room becomes a shrine thinking of you..." - Jesus & Mary Chain
People with money really do start thinking they can take it with 'em, don't they? Ya see the value they put on Shit, mere stuff, and also on just their own most basic climate control, the channel changer, controlling the room, and even the ideas allowed to ever enter their big ceilinged, oversized, white, spartan, multiple empty spaces. I got a song lyric that says, "now all I do is write obituaries", cause all my ole rocknroll friends keep dropping dead, and man. 'Gets weird.
One of my teenage brothers offed himself a couple years ago, and his family wrote some real blunt obit for the smalltown newspaper to publish, I'll paraphrase, but basically, it was like, "He was drunk and depressed all his life and committed suicide". Yeah, so that was grim. I knew they never liked the kid to start with, but according to his side of the story, they were hiding and covering up abuse.