Friday, March 27, 2015


Today's post is NOT about how fucked up the world is. Despite all the negativity we face on a daily basis... Actually, we're assaulted by a barrage of unwanted information every waking seconds of your miserable, inconsequential little lives. But today is not about JuJu, Steve, pooh, Zuma, ESKOM, The Po'tears, xenophobia, the state of worldwide education, the petrol price or even the orchestrated genocide The Oval Orifice thinks they're getting with.

No, today NOTHING can get us down. It's Friday. The weather is glorious. Actually, to quote one of my favourite movies "The weather outside is weather..."
We're a few short hours away from the weekend - the shackles of the work week magically evaporating - and that first, second and third well deserved cold beer.

And I get to do the thing I love the most...

Well, the thing I love doing the most in public. I get to lose my mind, my heart and my self on a great big stage and bring the music to the people! Well, it's not just me, obviously. If you ever heard me sing, you'd scamper for the hills and bury your head in the nearest ant colony where you'd be damned to an eternity of Courtney Love minus autotune. But I do like to play the guitar and hide behind my hair.

Tomorrow night Mercury once again plays host to SUBVERS for another stellar show. Joining us on the night - and bringing with them a distinctly darker atmosphere - are the delightfully creepy OH, CRUEL FATE and the dense, moody, and intricate innovation of BLACK MOSCOW. If ever there was a night to bust out the black, then this spooky spectacular is it!

DJ Reanimator will be filling in the blanks with his famous dancefloor killers so dust off the Docs and come let your hair down for a night of grandiose gothy goodness. And bring clean panties...

For your enjoyment, here is a little teaser. A track from each of the bands...

SUBVERS - Flatline
OH, CRUEL FATE - Creep Factory

For full event details, click here.

Oh yes. And then there's the small matter of not getting any sleep before the great battle of the Antipodes over some or other trophy no one in the cricket world cares about anymore...

Spread The Love. "It's A Cruel Seduction."

Monday, March 23, 2015



It's time to get political again. I quipped earlier that the pooh-petrators of the Rhodes Statue debacle should rather concentrate on their studies and afford themselves the chance of bettering themselves. Not only in a socio-economic manner, but also in a way in which a decent education prohibits well brought up adults from chucking shit all over the place and defacing that which is not theirs.

After all the suffering and strife of an entire race, after all the political maneuvering and eventual dismantling of a hellishly prejudicial system, after all the redress, after all the bloodshed and sacrifice, I was under the impression that South Africa was at least making a token attempt at the rosy reconciliation so eloquently espoused by the late, great Tata Madiba. At least in 2005 and 2010, sport being what it is...

So the detractors of the juvenile public defacing (defecation?) of ol' Rhodes had the moral high ground. Or did they?

Well any rebuke we felt justified in dealing out was recently rendered utterly without worth. Enter some tit who felt it justified to retort with a hail of racist abuse, going as far as referring to these pooh-flingers as (close your ears) the K-word. Let me tell you something, youngster, that's WAY worse than a little excrement. And unforgivable. Thank you for lending credence to their gripe.

The question now is this: where does all this hatred come from? I was under the impression the lighties all got on. At least the ones privileged enough to have attended school and now university on equal footing. Yes, they may still have brand inequality in their lunchboxes, but nothing of the like experienced by their forefathers. I can understand the disenfranchised white retirement age resentment. Even sympathise with their incensed refusal to believe we're better off. They don't (all) know better, having had that kind of thing ingrained for as long as they did.

My generation had it the worst in terms of coming to terms with the dramatic change. I'm not complaining - I'm merely pointing out that we grew up perfectly used to a situation in which we had the unfair advantage. And then suddenly we didn't, and we were forced to embrace the very reason for our sudden demotion down the totem pole. If anyone has an excuse for finding it difficult to deal with change it is that generation, yet we've shown remarkable acceptance - even pointedly or actively joining in - and/or promoting - the process of transformation.

The lighties of today do not know how good they have it, black, or white, or coloured, or Indian, or anything else. You are protected by a wonderful constitution, if not your own government, and by extension the police force. But this hatred among you? Fuck colour. It means nothing! It doesn't mean you're denied the right to anything the person beside you does.

We cannot sweep what happened in the past under some convenient rug of "starting with a clean slate, eh?". Nor should we dredge up atrocities committed against the people of this beautiful country in order to make a statement. Wake the fuck up! That statement has been made over and over and over. The only way you, me and everyone else is going to make a change for the better is to bury the hatchet, acknowledge the inequalities of the past and move towards a more equal future together. I am no bleeding heart. I am even less politically motivated. But I do feel strongly that if you are too fucking dimwitted to contribute in a meaningful manner for the betterment of the situation, then SHUT THE FUCK UP!

And to those entitled little shitheads who still find it necessary to show their own backward barbarism, you do not deserve the right to a life of riches and privilege. Perhaps you'd be better off some place else where your racism is shared by the community. You are NOT welcome here in civilised society. And when you find this bigoted enclave, my sincerest hope is that it  mysteriously disappears off my planet. With you in it.

Fuck off. All of you.

Spread The Love. Your Country Needs It.

Friday, March 20, 2015


So much catching up to get through. It's been a while...

Some of this may seem a little dated.

Cast your minds back to the PREMONITIONS gig. It was exactly like the good old days, when so many of us started out - the beginning of a journey that would eventually tally countless man hours and immeasurable expense, blood, sweat and tears that would eventually pay off. Yup playing to the other bands and their girlfriends was nostalgically gratifying. SUBVERS even had the opportunity to welcome Ian Watson to the stage for a rousing guest vocal appearance on our lovely little ditty 'Conviction'. Fuck! He tore that song a new one! We are truly blessed in Cape Town to have so many active and awesome bands. The punters are spoiled for choice week in and week out. Long may it last - it's the basis on which a great future is being built.

Following the show, instead of the usual "rock star treatment", we were up early to go to The Hot Girlfriend's work function at Fairview. Disgruntled goats on display aside, it was brilliant. Nice work if you can get it. Her one colleague - from behind the glazed mask of complete misunderstanding - commented that I looked like "Nickelback". I can only assume she meant that poodle who almost single handedly ruined rock'n'roll. Personally I think I look way more like Avril Lavigne. Perhaps that's where the confusion came in.

Then it was off to Joburg - much to my equal excitement and mortal trepidation - to catch the Ministry show. Toilet visits were very thoroughly scheduled way in advance and strictly adhered to throughout my trip. Except the night I landed. I spent the entire night with my head in the bog, like a teenage girl with aspirations of becoming the first to claim bad judgement in Spring Break. The Ministry experience, much like the Rammstein one, was a little less enjoyable then due to my tragic illness, nevertheless nothing short of fucking insane. All hail his majesty indeed! Terminatryx brought their own brand of stomp to the proceedings and the crowd went full lunatic to their set.

So after spending my week long holiday in Joburg cooped up inside for fear of further gastric pyrotechnics, aside from breakfast with my old friend PyeGye, it was back home. Do not pass begin, do not even look at Lanseria's time warp toilet. Thanks to Princess Pants and Lord Doom for looking after me.

I know this isn't going to come as any sort of shock, but Zuma is a poes.

And in the ongoing - and ever growing - list of disquieting observations on humankind and what makes them tick: If you're not the perpetrator of some heinous crime against humanity, you're obliged to point out what a doos all perpetrators of crimes against humanity are.

I know this little observation is a little late, but considering that I've been jotting down little points on which to make comment for almost 2 weeks, lest ye suffer from missilitis, here it is anyway. Witchfest should just be held in Cape Town. Clearly our religious fundamentalists are more relaxed than the fanatical zealots of The Norff. It has since been moved to a location where they cannot be pre-emptively fucked with, so here's hoping the festival goes off without a hitch after all these needless setbacks.

And then there was the fairytale wedding on Saturday. I broke a wine glass on the dancefloor and by that time had already discarded my kerkskoene and was on bare feet... And I wasn't the only one suffering from a touch of over exuberance. The bride blurted out "I DO!" three times. THREE times! What a lucky fellow the groom is. I wish both of you the best for your future together - if the wedding was anything to go by, you have nothing but the most amazing life to look forward to. I passed out in the back of the bakkie on the way home.

Oh and Rhodes was a bad man and a colonist, but surely you have something better to do than fling pooh? You're doing nothing more than exposing yourself as a morally bankrupt arsehole who probably stole your younger sister's Barbies for fun time in the back shed. Concentrate on your education dickhead, and perhaps then you won't be tempted to act out in such barbaric ways. If you were any smarter you wouldn't lend credence to the very utterances he made to which you take such umbrage.

Also LEFTY'S is the shit! The Hot Girlfriend is now officially the longest incumbent Minister Of Home Affairs in my life. We celebrated this and our anniversary by going to Lefty's for a meal. And what a meal it was! The staff are friendly and quirky. The food is imaginative and out-of-this-world delicious without being precious or pretentious. And the vibe is infectiously charming in an urban setting kinda way. Given this combination, you simply cannot help but have a good time.

Then there's the cricket. South Africa confounded the book makers on Wednesday by chewing and swallowing Sri Lanka whole. I was lying in bed with my coffee and my rusks and a big fat grin all over my face. Days like that are rare and should be cherished. Meanwhile I think Pakistan's fielding coach is already filling out online job applications.

I know I've forgotten a few things, but that's pretty much it in terms of catching up. I have a million other things I could whinge about, but right now it's Friday afternoon in the Mother City and, like peering into a stripper's butthole, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. Have a safe and sensational weekend, everyone.

Spread The Love. Double Click That Mouse.

Thursday, March 19, 2015


So what are you all doing on the weekend? Beating up a couple of old ladies? Sniffing a few petrol tanks? Nice quiet Sunday morning brunch at Stodels? I've a better idea...

Why don't you take in what is possible one of the most historical (and dripping with nostalgia) shows presented in recent times? That's right folks! Here's you chance to be part of something you missed. And trust me, you will DEFINITELY hanker back to the glory days when you get an earful of these venerable veterans.

3 of Cape Town's most beloved bands, who last played together more than a decade ago, have decided to present to you this once in a life time show. Well, your more recent life time. And it is going to be, as the the term "glory days" so subtly insinuates, GLORIOUS!

Allow me to introduce you...

V.O.L. was formed in 2003 and was prolifically active on the local circuit. Kevin Rule, Art Pereira and Miggs Auer are legendary stalwarts in the local live music scene and have gotten together with original guitarist Jonathan Commerford to recapture their explosive sound and dish it out to you, you lucky bastards!

Roswell Kings have been described as epic alternative rock, utilising aspects of metal to add grandeur to their immense sonic soundscapes. Featuring one man music masterclass, Andy Lund, Jason Ling of Taxi Violence infamy, and the omnipresent Art Pereira, they'll have you reminiscing, glowing, and happily recalling the wonder of musical discovery and the majesty of misspent youth.

And then there's Ill System. Recently reformed due to popular demand (following a once off reunion show), they offer a unique take on metal, blending together interesting percussion and elements of ska. If the clamour of the crowds is to be seen to be believed, then you do not want to miss Sean Olsen, Bobby Addison, Mike Cubic and Ramone Pickover once more combining to sublime effect to bring you what they call African Reggae Metal.

So put on your dancing shoes, dig out your old Korn tshirt, take 2 Prohep and come and see for yourself what all the excitement is about. Mercury is the place to be as these home town heroes BRING ON THE AWESOME! 

I've Said It Before And I'll Keep On Saying It. Spread The Love.