Wednesday, December 2, 2015
I wrote this yesterday - too afraid to step on toes - rather choosing to bide my time until knives had been put away. But I think it needs to be said, since the internet has provided everyone a platform from which to express their opinion. And at least this isn't a tired recycled meme, or a picture of a cat hazzing a cheezburger...
I was once at Mercury - could have been as far back as when it was still The Jam. The unholy act of such unspeakable malevolence that transpired on that evening had me in deep and disturbed shock! And I only read about it in the papers the next week!
...Some guy got a blowjob in the Mens bathroom...
...from a girl...
...at a rock concert...
Well, fuck me! I was so awash with disgust I couldn't even digest the information.
Fast forward to many years later and a friend of mine is escorted from the premises after a backstage altercation following some boisterous stage diving.
The truth is: I don't know the truth. The only point of view I am prepared to accept as holy writ is that of a good friend of mine who was manning part of the sound that night - and that certainly doesn't paint the full picture. In my rather checkered past I have learned that overreactions are not usually met with stoic politeness in the face of unbridled antagonism. Neither is a reasonable request most often met with frothing indignity. More often than not both parties tend to colour their side of the story with brighter, more sensational claims than the other because everyone knows that he who squeaks the loudest gets the most grease. And as for the moral outrage expressed by the majority of loyal supporters - good on you for showing solidarity against something portrayed to be so heinously unjust. And now that everyone has retracted their claws, perhaps I could suggest a more cautious approach to our reaction to the truth.
The truth is that metal heads are fiercely loyal, excitable and passionate about the music and lifestyle which brings them together.
The truth is that almost everyone outside the metalhead's closely and jealously guarded way of life is ill educated about the more exotic of our traditions - particularly when it comes to excitable expression whilst going crazy to the music we love. Please note that I use the term "we" very loosely.
The truth is that situations can - and very often do - escalate far too quickly for no reason. Very often miscommunication and misunderstanding can lead to some fairly severe consequences. I have seen a Russian sailor near beat to death just for wanting to buy a drink. Entirely unnecessary.
The truth is that people, by their very nature, will defend their corners with their teeth bared. Any attempt to find the unfettered truth from either of two opposing sides is an exercise in futility.
I have been to most of the Witchdoctor Productions shows since their reinvention, and have had the pleasure of dealing with them in their previous incarnation as Witchdoctor Records too. I can only commend their drive and determination to bring what the people want - and their relative success - the likes of which no one else has been able to emulate in recent years.
I have also been fortunate enough to have dealings with Mercury Live over many years - with the old management and the new. Nicer, more accommodating people you will not find and my hope is that you do not judge them too harshly for what seems to have been an incident which was allowed to get out of hand, but where no malice was on display (allegedly). I condemn physical violence in the most vociferous terms. If indeed the altercation led to serious physical harm, then let the individuals responsible be man enough to face the consequences. If not, then blowing incidents out of proportion seems a touch extravagant and common sense should prevail.
The potential damage to the local live scene could be irreversible... it will eventually be the Cape Town bands who suffer if a venue like Mercury is forced to change its format. Remember when they didn't allow metal bands a few years ago? How did that feel? We all need to be able to resolve these inevitable issues with a little more grace.
And if you would gladly condemn, then crucify, anyone without allowing them the chance to present their version of events, then you're no better than the bandwagoning, hatemongering, right wing conservative bigots you so vehemently oppose. Let he who is without sin (and I know that's none of you twisted lot...) cast the first stone in this glass house.
And on that note - you better fucking well be there - venue change or not - to support Cape Town's finest! BULLETSCRIPT and ZOMBIES ATE MY GIRLFRIEND will be tearing up the stage at Assembly. So like Paul McCartney said, "We all stand together..."
To anyone who disagrees with my thoughts - that's fine as well. I'm sure we can sort out our personal differences. I challenge you to a duel. You choose which shots you'd like me to buy you at the bar.
Spread The Love. Matt, We Love You, Man!
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
Sweet Baby Genius!
As we draw up our collective breath (thank you, Mister Stainthorpe...) and prepare for the final push, allow me to inject some levity into your dull existence. Well, I'll try but I make no promises. It's far too early in the morning and too late in the year for anything more than putting your head down and sucking it up. Hey, wait a minute!
It's December. The children have been let out of their institutional gaols and unleashed upon a citizenry unprepared for the incessant screaming. It's as relentless as the South Easter and even more annoying. I prefer the Fresh Prince's version of how summer time should go.
So what have you been up to? Getting your head down? Well, I am thrilled to report that the SUBVERS album launch surpassed even my lofty expectations and turned out to be a night of great success. And enjoyment. If you weren't there, then you'll be like that oke who feels a right kiepie when everyone else recounts that legendary time this or that happened - and all you can do is stand there nursing your Klippies 'n' cola around the fire dying of missilitis. To each and every one of the wonderful individuals who enjoyed the night with us - thank you from the bottom of our black little hearts! We trust and hope that you are enjoying the album! To our mates in ZERO STROKE, to Mercury Live and the team, thank you for everything - what a fantastic event!
Whilst we're on the subject of Mercury Live - the good people of Witchdoctor Productions have done it again! They brought FINNTROLL here for a good ol' dose of 'flagon n dragon' metal on Friday night and it was CRAZY! Bodies bouncing everywhere! Beer flowed. Fists pumped. Horns pierced the sky in choruses of HHFC metal synchronized unity and everyone had the time of their lives. Except this one doos. Who stood there watching, making sure his draft didn't get spilled, and enjoying himself quietly without giving too much away...
Not to be outdone in the ' beer n beard' department, Cape Town also hosted the Beer Festival this weekend and I was lucky enough to be the plus one of TheCraftBearResearcher. So I spent Sunday pinting away at a leisurely pace - what a pleasure! Luckily I was just drunk enough to ignore all the lascivious looks aimed at my long blonde hair and clean shaven face. I can't blame them. They haven't seen a beardless bloke in donkey's years.
Anyhoo, on with the dog and pony show. Almost there... Just . that . final . push . . .
Spread The Love. Vaalies In Mankinis!
Friday, November 13, 2015
Look Ma! No hands...
It's been a while...
You may ask yourself, in your best David Byrne impression, what the fuck I've been up to? And the truth, as much as it'll set you free after pissing you off, is rather less exciting than I would normally have you believe.
I've been working.
I've been suffering from an extreme lack of giving enough of a shit to entertain you.
Ok, let's rewrite that...
I've been working... extremely hard at getting an album ready for your listening pleasure.
I've been suffering for my art and now the time has come to share the results of this labour of love, blood, sweat and tears. Myself, Matt Daemon, Catcher In The Ry and our own intrepid producer who shall remain nameless for security reasons as well as not wanting to be part of anyone's lives in any way, have been slaving over this so that we may entertain you.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen! Allow me to take this opportunity to capitalise on my return from the online wastelands to announce the imminent release of SUBVERS's debut album, appropriately (if a little self-indulgently) named 'BLOODSTAINED EULOGIES'. Catchy, innit?
We have been working feverishly for, well, forever on this and the results are in! It's magnificent!
But don't trust my clearly very biased opinion on the matter. You are invited to decide for your very discerning self! Marking the occasion of the album's official birth, in a manner not unlike Mufasa holding Simba aloft like a proud parent finally showing off his progeny to the world, we, SUBVERS, will be performing the album in its entirety on Saturday the 21st of November at our favourite haunt, Mercury Live in Cape Town. But wait! There's more! If you click on the event NOW we'll throw in some extra surprises and even - if you've been extra good this year - a new song. Nothing but the best for our adoring fans! And to sweeten the pot a little - as if that's even needed - our friends ZERO STROKE will do us the honour of sharing the stage with us!
And speaking of honour, it is my distinct privilege to wish the indefatigably inspirational Neal Goldwyer a glorious, grandiose HAPPY BIRTHDAY! May your wishes - no matter how lurid - all come true.
Spread The Love. Lube Up For Some SUBVERSion...
Tuesday, September 8, 2015
Daphne had the most annoying tartar build up...
- Eagles Nest - used to be the best thing since rainbow parties. I have been there time and time again since I was fortunate enough to discover this tucked away gem in the Constantia winelands. I've made a point to bring just about everyone who has ever visited me from out of town, and even some locals. I have had the best times there and enjoyed sterling service along with some wonderful wines. Then they put in extra benches and doubled their prices. And now... apparently you're not worth bothering over if you're not dressed in the latest fashion from the men's section of Queenspark and schmoozing about like you're a founding member of the Sunday Morning Stodels fraternity. It most certainly needs to be pointed out that the shocking service and attitude our very large table received on Sunday morning was unforgivable. If they had ANY idea of the spending power they collectively pissed off, they'd have choked on their own haughty indifference. Thanks a lot. Although I'm sure my business won't be missed, you've lost a life long devotee.
- The new ETV jingle - if you've heard the abomination that is the revamped channel jingle, you'll understand.
- Life getting in the way of me getting to make music with my maatjies. Between meetings, deadlines and irritable bowel syndrome, I was denied my heavy hearted enjoyment of all things DOOMY last night.
- Not being able to post as often as I used to...
- The winter weather prohibiting me from doing my outdoor exercise.
- Little shits breaking car windows out of spite.
- Vacuum cleaners. Especially vacuum cleaners used early on weekend mornings by the kid next door obsessively cleaning his car.
The list is like my disgust for humankind. Eternal.
But today is actually NOT about things that suck.
Today is a glorious day! Filled with candyfloss clouds, rivers of booze, mountains made from the finest, softest boobs, and - at least in metaphysical ideal - the never ending blowjob. Things have gone full circle. You never go full circle! Hmmmmm...
Today is TARTY FARTY TEQUILA PARTY'S birthday!
Happy birthday, you wandering, wonderful gypsy!
May the universe smile down on you with as much warmth, grace, joy and love as you bring to those of us lucky enough to have you as a friend! Also, wine.
Spread The Love. Suck It. Wine Through A Straw.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
When you first decided to try and learn to play an instrument, what drove that desire?
Are you still beholden to those original feelings, or has it all become a little jaded?
Do you remember the first time you heard something so overwhelming, so emotive, so engaging that it awakened in you an urgency to create a sound of your own...?
Did you for one second think to yourself that it would end up as a continuous stream of begging for clicks, begging for attention, begging just to be heard...?
Do you make music purely for the love of collaborating and creating that which is pleasing to your ear? And heart?
Does that mean you have given up?
Does the refusal to participate in "the game" indicate resolve or laziness?
Never has there been a more apt name for a game than "musical chairs", a game built on the premise that there is an ever diminishing platform for all the arsehole participants every time the music stops.
We live in that very real game of musical chairs, my friends.
More and more arseholes, less and less chairs.
The music has stopped.
But is it for the last time?
Sure, we now have an almost infinite market, but no one gives a fuck. And as for giving dollars, well we all know the answer to that! Music no longer holds any value because what is deemed to be music by the general public today has no value. At least not musically. I'm not saying the Sex Pistols were misunderstood geniuses - far from it - but at least they stirred the souls of a generation.
What brought on this early morning mood? Well, for one thing I have been rediscovering the joy of making music at its most basic level (I don't have much above the very basic to start with...) and last night was one of those "shit-eating grin" sessions. As for all the negativity, well, that's the kind of stuff permanently on my mind.
Come watch my shit-eating grin threaten the material integrity of the top of my head on Saturday.
Spread The Love. Putting The "EAR" Back Into "HEART"
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Yesterday was murder. Except for the dinner-and-a-show part right at the end.
Yesterday was corporate hell. I stood naked before the world, no piercings with which myself to defend.
Contrived, I know, but I have been concentrating on things other than my prosaic droppings for some time now. As I'm sure you've noticed. Most people say the rather more uninspiring "work's been hectic hey!" but I feel I owe you a little more than that, my dear genteel reader.
Let's see, what happened to me over the last while... I maked a cake again. Part III! The Hot Girlfriend was over the moon! No dogs were allowed to lick anything in the commission of this master piece and the only dish / spoon shenanigans were restricted to the inside of the dishwasher. The rest of the birthday celebrations involved me slaving over a hot stove or a hot braai - a lot. There may or may not have been some wine involved...
Ooooh! Ja! SUBVERS also played their first house party! As reported in my last post, we decided to get back to basics and break out the party tunes. Having set up our PA system and after undergoing the time consuming face painting make up ritual (it was a horror themed party), we mightily bestrode the corner of the lounge and rocked out like so many garage bands before us. If you don't know what I'm talking about, see just about any American college movie ever made. And now imagine us doing that!
It was wonderful! We pumped that place so full of smoke, you'd have sworn blind you were at a Sisters gig in the mid 80s! And of course we topped this particular cake with the cherry that is "Scotty Doesn't Know!", the ultimate house party classic. We may even have duped a few individuals into enjoying themselves...
But wait. That's not all! If you go down to the woods today, that means you'll have Saturday free. What! Did I say "Saturday"? And "free"? In the same sentence?
Yes, my fellatio-owed followers! Saturday SUBVERS once more soil the stage at Mercury with their particularly lewd and lurid style! And with the return of THE DAMNED CROWS, who join us on the night to celebrate a milestone with our good friend Captain Awesome, shit is gonna get torn up good and proper. So put on your party hat, pop on a discreet adult diaper, smear on some lipschtick and drag your gloriously gaggin' arse down to the one and only Mercury for a night of heavy breathing, heaving bosoms, and heavenly noise terrorism!
Read that again.
In keeping up with the Kardashians, and the rest of the world as it devalues music and everything else, including even the most modestly veiled morals, fuck it! Captain Awesome brings you this extravaganza of excess at no cost to your good self. And the bands are performing for him, for you, and for free!
And speaking of crazy, I have a damn panti-gram to complete... hullo! Make with the little black g-strings!
On decks all night is the one, the only, the inimitable DJ Reanimator, spinning your choons of choice and keeping your booty bopping until the wee hours. And by wee I don't mean "incontinently drunk". Although I'm sure that is most certainly not ruled out...
Spread The Love. Buy The Birthday Boy A Drink.
Thursday, July 23, 2015
Pretend you're in your bedroom. Or Arties. And now pretend you're hearing James Hetfield bark out "I've got something to say!... " And now pretend that I indeed DO have something to say. And now imagine that the rest of this post isn't as awful as I anticipate it will be. Like St. Anger. Only without the insightful lyric.
It occurs to me that the older one gets, the more boring ones life. It's as if things finally come to a grinding semi-halt as we settle into a holding pattern of mind numbing boredom and merely trudge through the endless days until we are allowed to dull our affronted senses with the only socially sanctioned drug abuse on Earth. Booze it up while you clean the kitchen or do a load of laundry. Wake up feeling like you'd rather not, rinse, repeat. Adulthood. When did I become so wrung out?
At least, unlike so many of you, I have sufficient distractions in my life to convince myself that I still enjoy this dreadful existence. I get to use the horrible ennui as inspiration. And since I have no captive audience to satisfy, I can be as frustratingly obscure as I feel like. Which brings me to a lovely new ditty we're working on. You'll love it. It has it all! But you'll have to wait...
And speaking of things you missed out on, SUBVERS performed a secret surprise show on Saturday at a house party. Yes, thanks to the second half of the year's bookings disappearing in a puff of smoke, we decided to go completely old school! Oh what fun we had! Some of the guests even bobbed their heads and got into it. Whilst certainly not a stand out show in terms of grandeur or prestige, it was a highlight in terms of fun. And since it isn't likely to be repeated it was decided to include that ultimate of house party songs as the final number. Yup! You guessed it! SCOTTY DOESN'T KNOW! The goth metal version! One day we may be bribed with enough money/alcohol/projectile panties to release the video.
Anyway, I just thought I'd pop in and say hi. I'm sure you've missed me as I have missed dishing up the drivel. Problem is, I have no effing motivation and sweet fuck all on which to opine. It really is quite grown up of me.
Spread The Love. So What So What You Boring Little ****!