Has anybody worked in retail before. It can be the most rewarding job…sometimes it can be annoying just like everything. But one thing is for sure. I have worked in music retail for a few years now and it is often extremely funny. Once back in the late 90 ‘ s I worked at a top 40 cd shop in Sydney. A popular fad back then was flamenco guitar music. I think people like Ottmar Liebert were selling out the state theatre. One day a bogan lady asked me where the flamingo section was. Seeing as Paco Pena was playing that night and the shop was full of people buying flamenco guitar music, I knew that this cameltoed redhead with a fake gucci handbag was actually asking for “flamenco music”. One thing I never do, is let my sense of schadenfreude go unsated. Not wanting to miss this golden comedy opportunity, the smart – arse in me completely took over. I said to her “walk this way”, walking with a slight limp, looking over my shoulder to see if she was also walking with a slight limp, then finally I pointed to the cd rack marked “Jethro tull”. Flabbergasted, the bogan redhead with a slightly receded chin shouted at me “what am I looking at here”. My response was to pull out from the rack “M.U.: THE BEST OF JETHRO TULL”. Clearly Ian Anderson could be seen playing the flute on ONE LEG like a flamingo. The bogan pigfarmer snorted ” think you’re smart don’t you”. I responded “yes”
Category: Satire
TERRY LAMB
About 15-17 years ago I accompanied my then partner to a wedding. It was a church-affair, insufferably long of course, what is more I knew basically TWO people there. PLUS, Parramatta Eels were playing their deadly arch-rivals the Bulldogs THAT AFTERNOON. Having big hair back in those days,which easily passed my shoulders, I put a tiny AM radio inside my jacket. An earphone was then attached to it and it ran unnoticed, into my left (the good ear) ear. I listened to the game during the wedding ceremony (and just before and after) without anyone noticing that I was really somewhere else. To be fair, I wished the wedding couple well, but when I mentioned this day to a friend a whlle back, he found my behaviour abominable, and that he “expected better” from me. I politely but firmly reminded him what a bastard I was
CRAB
Any problems with lice or crabs in the past with anyone here? In 1989 I once shared a double bed with Steve Hanford the drummer of poison idea. The Hard-ons played a show with them in their hometown of Portland and a couple of us ended up at steve’s house. Steve later told me he got crabs off me but I reckon it was the other way round. My pubes itched for the rest of the tour and I ended up shaving it all off. The last chicken in the shop indeed. I shouldn’t have shared the double bed with Steve that night because those pubic lice migrated to my netherbush and when my wire forest grew back, sure enough the crabs came back and I had never experienced such a horrid itchy feeling. It was pretty intolerable. No medicine, topical nor oral, seemed to get rid of them. After 3 weeks of suffering, I wrapped my oriental salami in aluminum foil and using a match set fire to my pubes, instantly causing a scene that was like a tiny miniature version of kangaroos madly trying to outrun a bushfire. There were black dots (the crabs) hopping away frenetically, and as implausible as it sounds, it actually did the job of ridding my crotch of these unwanted bastards. Before you ask, yes there was a fair bit of pain involved
GRAFFITI
It is now 5.35am in the morning and I have been awake since 3.58am. I went to bed reasonably early so I probably got enough sleep anyway. Air travel is despicable and so is its associated byproduct, jet-lag. At 3.58am my toddler daughter actually woke up first and I sprung out of bed to try to comfort her back to sleep. Walking around the lounge room with my daughter in my arms, I was in that in-between period of half-awake and quarter-awake, a period I am quite familiar with, and in my younger years, I did a lot of drawings and song-writing in this period. This morning, my brain was for some reason rushing back to my University years, namely, my first year, when I spent a lot of time upstairs at the Fisher library of University of Sydney, in the evenings, studying. There was one corner with the GREATEST graffiti ever scrawled over tables. Nowadays admittedly when I think of graffiti I think of a young men in leisure wear with names like “Jayden” spray-painting the bejesus out of a railway station, with their “tag”, but back in 1984, I used to enjoy reading graffiti, I would find plenty of information and humour. I remember BUGA-UP and all the “COPS KILLED TSAKOS” things in Sydney as a teenager, I found it pretty fascinating.
The best graffiti at Fisher library back in 1984:
1. One guy had (obviously over repeated visits to one particular table) written in small letters, names of probably EVERY 60’s punk band he could think of, starting from top left corner, till almost the entire desk was covered. I would come back in a few days and sure enough he had added a few more. Don’t ask how I know it was a “he” rather than a “she”. I do not know for sure, but call it a wild hunch I have. You should have seen it: CHOCOLATE WATCHBAND. REMAINS. THE MOVING SIDEWALKS. MUSIC MACHINE. THE GONN. MOUSE AND THE TRAPS. THE E-TYPES. ZAKARY THAKS. VEJTABLES. VELVET ILLUSIONS. You name it, it was probably here. I recognised most of the names but there were names that I did not recognise so it was fascinating. One day I wrote a letter in the form of a graffiti on the adjoining and much cleaner desk, to this unknown 60’s punk fan. Seeing as he had on the original desk written “COUNT FIVE” (the band that had the famous 60’s punk song “Psychotic Reaction”) I wrote “THE BEST VERSION OF PSYCHOTIC REACTION IS BY THE BAND POSITIVELY 13 O’CLOCK”. The phantom 60’s punk fan actually wrote a reply in a few days, under my original post. “NO IT IS NOT- THE BEST VERSION IS ACTUALLY BY THE FIRE ESCAPE”. I was blown away. Even though I disagreed.
One day at the University of Sydney quadrangle I saw a tall black dude with a barrel chest that was wearing a REMAINS shirt. As I was a REMAINS fan and this dude I saw him at some gig at the Vulcan hotel (may be Celibate Rifles or Lime Spiders I can’t remember) I struck a conversation with him, talking about 60’s punk and eventually inviting him to a Hard-ons gig. His name was/is David Robinson, and to this day (as far as I know) we are still mates, although it’s been a few years since I last saw him. Anyway, David didn’t know anything about the 60’s punk graffiti at the library, he certainly was not the phantom fan.
2. Somebody had written “ULTRAVOX” on a desk. Underneath somebody else had written “THIS MEANS NOTHING TO ME” with an arrow clearly pointing toward “Ultravox”. Of course I burst out laughing
3. Someone had written on one of the desks at the library “QUESTION EVERYTHING” and underneath a smart-arse reply “WHY?”. Again I totally cracked up laughing.
I wonder if the library has cleaned up all this graffiti by now. Probably
Newcastle
Does anyone here like the British comic book “VIZ”. I discovered VIZ along with the other guys in the Hard-ons in 1988, on our first tour of the UK, and immediately I thought it was the greatest thing I had read, easily surpassing anything by Camus or Kafka. In fact, all three of the Hard-ons tried to live our lives by the comic for a while, whether it was “johnny Fartpants” or “Sid the sexist”. Of course, this never turns out practical or possible.
In 1991, in Newcastle, UK, while the Hard-ons were on tour there again,we saw the actual real-life “Fat Slags”. There was a small hole-in-the-wall late night chip shop, and we were all there ordering stuff. A loud argument broke out between two young women who physically resembled the “fat slags” (especially the blonde one with the lady-Di haircut). It was hard to make out what they were screaming at each other but to be sure, it was hostile and accusatory.
I turned my back to order my chips and I heard a WHACK. Turning around I was shocked to see the blonde flat on her bum, obviously having been knocked to the ground by the brunette in the black tights. The blonde’s skirt was hitched up from the donnybrook, revealing a little too much. There was a ring of chips around her as well, completing a pretty special picture.
The blonde one immediately started screeching: “EEM NOOOO A SLAG! EEM NOOOO A SLAG!”, The brunette’s reply: “YA OOORR A SLAG! YA SOOO OOORR A SLAG! STEE DOON ORR EELL HIT YA AGIN! STEE DOON YA FOOGEN SLAG!”
It was quite late and I was slightly under the influence of alcohol myself. I turned to the young man behind the chip shop counter: “how the hell did you beat the Germans in the war?” The Pakistani man behind the counter replied “That’s not very nice”
IT
Who is the SLOWEST reader you know? The slowest reader I know is my friend Keish. At the beginning of 1988 he brought on tour with him Stephen King’s “IT”. Make no mistake: this book is 2 inches thick, a real tour-de-force. In Keish’s hands it became Tolstoy’s WAR AND PEACE.
Keish brought this book along EVERY tour. In the van, he was either asleep, or reading this fucking thing.
Finally in 1991 in Germany, the morning after our show in Essen, in the northwest of the country, while sitting in the front seat of our Fiat touring van, I heard a SLAP. When I turned around to investigate, I saw Keish with the book “IT” in his hands in front of him, clasped tightly, pages firmly closed. Everyone in the van except Ralph our driver/Tour manager was staring at Keish. His eyes were as wide as dinner plates. He had that massive ear-to-ear grin as well. He suddenly exclaimed loudly:”FINISHED!”.
Later, when discussing the book, Keish confessed to me that he had forgotten the early chapters and how the story started, as he began reading the book so long ago. It was agreed: when we got back to Australia, he will rent the VHS of the movie
George street Cinema complex
Australia is a GREAT place to live, this can’t be disputed. I personally love that Australians come from many different backgrounds. My band the Hard-ons for example is testimony to this: SRI LANKAN. KOREAN. CROATIAN. SERBIAN. SCOTTISH. POLISH.
One should take advantage of their background when they can. I am personally sick of German backpackers saying “konichiwa” to me as they try to pry money from me, as they collect for Unicef, Greenpeace, or whomever else, so they can buy pills in Bondi. And this “sorry you look Japanese” just doesn’t wash with me very well.
My tactic has been therefore, to just yell back “NO ENGLISH” at these annoying fuckheads when they charge at me with their pretend goodwill and meaningless laminated I.D. cards around the necks. I then quickly scurry away.
One day a few years ago while walking past the cinema complex with a Sydney Morning Herald tucked under my arm, a young Asian man approached me grinning, no doubt trying to pry money from my wallet, so that he can buy more plastic accessories and toys for his dashboard. I palmed him off with my usual “NO ENGLISH”. Undaunted, the young Asian man replied “where are you from” and I could not resists, I spun around and faced him, saying “well actually I was born in Korea”. To which he then replied “NA DU HANGUK SARAM EE YO” which translated from Korean means “I am also a Korean”. To which I then replied “NO KOREAN” and hurried off, unfurling my Sydney Morning Herald to the Sports section. The Korean kid, I heard him utter softly, but clearly “…fucking cunt…” which I feel I deserved to a certain extent
WELSH DONG
Does anyone here play music? If so, would you agree with me that one of the best things about playing music is the funny people you get to meet? It is for me anyway. In 1989 Hard-ons toured the UK and Europe with our labelmates “Bomb Disneyland”, a bunch of hilarious Welsh thugs. For example, in Cardiff Wales, not far from their hometown, I gave Prud, their bassplayer my camera, freshly loaded with a new 32 shot roll. I asked him to take live shots of the Hard-ons from the crowd which I thought he did. Upon returning to Australia I was horrified to find 32 shots of somebody’s wang, Each photo had a warning sticker from Rabbit photo. At first I was annoyed but a minute later I realised how brilliant this was
This morning at the busy train station, I decided to let anyone walking without watching where they were going, because they had their heads buried in their phones looking at facebook, walk straight into my shoulder. I barreled 3 young women and 4 men. The last one actually said to me “WATCH WHERE YA GOIN”. Unbelievable. I replied “NO ENGLISH”. Then, a big Polynesian bloke walked straight for me while simultaneously updating his facebook status. I sidestepped him
ARE FRIENDS ELECTRIC?
In an earlier blog, I admitted that my new year resolution for 2014 was to apologise to everyone that I had wronged, that I could recall anyway. By the end of January I had apologised to two nuns, an old university colleague, one of my old school teachers, and my mechanic from 15 years ago.
Well, it didn’t slow down. By the end of march I added to my apology list a cleaner at burwood Westfield, an ex – employee of a commercial radio station, 6 (admittedly overly sensitive and precious) hipster friends, one ex-bandmate and the guy behind the counter at the auto parts place in Five Dock.
Now I have added a professional live band photographer, and now I would like to add to the apology list 4ZZZ radio station.
In 1985 a bloke told me at the trade union club during a hard-ons gig there that he was from Brisbane and that the local radio station 4ZZZ had announced a few times that the hard-ons were racist and sexist I.E. WE WERE THE ENEMY.
My response was to mail the station a photo of the band (actually it was a photocopy but it was a very good clear copy) and to consider lifting the ban they had placed on our SURFIN ON MY FACE record, as, you can clearly see by the attached photograph, the hard-ons are indeed racist BUT NOT SEXIST.
The result: our inaugural show in Brisbane in 1986 december was marred when 4ZZZ tried to sabotage our show by announcing on air leading up to the gig that the show was in fact cancelled.
We countered this by putting up a sign at the venue (Easts leagues club) that said “$5 entry. 4ZZZ subscribers $7”. Astonishingly some people paid $7!!!!
We got more than 500 punters so it was OK (about 300 of them sieg heil-ed us and that was nice of them)
In 1987 on the last day of that year we were due to play at the same venue, this time with touring partners THE STUPIDS. The stupids the next night, our night off, were invited to 4ZZZ for an interview. It was at like midnight for some reason. Ridiculously or may be reasonably, the hard-ons were not allowed in. While the stupids were being interviewed inside the station, we were expected to wait in the Toyota tarago.
The thing is, there was only one motherfucker in the whole place. The interviewer, some pimply white guy with dreadlocks.
While the stupids did their interview I barged into the record library and nicked as many good records as I could. My co- conspirators (also from punchbowl) were much faster than myself and all the Beatles, beach boys and the ramones were already gone by the time I looked. I made do with everything by Gary numan, the who, Kate bush, Nazareth, Ted Nugent among others. I missed out on ac/dc, tamam shud, x-ray spex etc because I was a little slow.
Now, 26 years later, things have been good between that famed community radio station and the hard-ons. In fact we have donated money to their fundraising efforts, played their market day festivals, allowed them to sponsor our shows and have gone in and done interviews with their d.j.’s etc.
But, to be fair, I have to say sorry for this horrible act of record theft in 1987. I still have all these battered records with “4ZZZ” written in texta, I would like to give them back.
I still would have loved to seen the face of the D.J. that realised the record wasn’t there the first time after the theft he went to play “are friends electric” by Gary numan
Ray Ahn 