Monday, November 26, 2012

Ten minutes to Sydney.


“It was at the Anglican Church, a couple of streets from the bad side of town, when the kid on a bike rode past.
“Hey! Boy! Hey.”
He walked a couple of steps before turning around. The kid had stopped and he didn’t want any trouble.
“Yeah, what’s up mate?”
“Do you have a cigarette?”
“Nah, sorry mate.”
“Shit.”
“Sorry.”
“Hey, wait!”
“Yeah?”
“Can you buy me a packet?”
“…yeah, alright then. Hang on, the newsagent is shut.”
“You can buy ‘em at the Video Ezy; they have the cheapest smokes in town.”
The kid dismounted and they walked down the main street, past the closed shops, to the tiny arcade. 
“What do you do? Do you live here?”
“Yeah, I live here. At the end of the street. I live above the cafĂ©.”
The kid nodded.
“Do you have a missus?”
“… yeah. She’s over in Coffs; in hospital.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry too.”
“Get me Longreach lights. 25’s. Or if they don’t have that: Longreach full-strength.”
“OK.”
He walked along the arcade and to the video store at the back of the block. He came back with a packet and the kid's money.
“They only had menthol.”
“Ask them for full-strength.”
“I did. They only have menthol.”
“Uh, OK.”
“Here.”
“Nah, you keep the change. You bought ‘em; you keep the change. That’s the rule.”
The kid lit up a menthol.
“What are you doing now? Do you want to smoke cigarettes, have a yarn?”
“Nah, I actually have to get on a flight soon.”
“Where are you going?”
“Sydney. I have to catch a taxi pretty soon.”
“Right.”
“Yeah, I have to go in like fifteen, ten minutes."
“Uh.”
“See you.”
“Yeah.”
He continued down the main street. Near the Council building the kid rode up to him.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come back with you? I can stay for ten minutes.”
“No, I really have to leave soon.”
The kid turned and rode off. There was no one else on the street. The sun was dropping quickly. It was going to be dark by the time he got to the airport.
He waited to cross over the bitumen as a semi-trailer turned into the street. The kid came around the corner, again on his BMX.
“Look. I can suck. I can fuck. I can do whatever you like.”
“No. No, that’s OK. I’m not interested.””

“Then I went upstairs, sat around for half an hour and took the plane to Sydney.”
“Jimmy!”
“What?”
“It was Jimmy Hendrix.”
She giggled.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Yes, it was Jimmy. They keep telling me he’s dead. But I’m like, ‘If he’s dead, then why is he sleeping in the room next to mine!’”
“Right. But you do know that Jimi isn’t alive?”
“Not the real Jimmy. I mean Jimmy Hendrix!”

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Essex Street



The bottle was a quarter full and bubbles were receding from the glass lip. From where he sat at the counter, he stared straight ahead at the fridge.
"A corona."
"Ok," said the barman. He fetched a bottle from the fridge and placed it next to the first.
A Rudimental song played on the flat screen above the spirits shelf. He acknowledged the new beat with a nod. The barman sat down on his stool and went back to his iPhone.
"Bourbon."
"Yeeah?"
"Whisky bourbon. Coke."
The barman faced the spirits shelf and read the labels.
"Jack Daniels?"
The man shrugged and raised his palms. His baseball cap was pulled low on his brow. The barman placed a glass next to the bottles and wrote down the cost. He drank a long pull from the glass.
From the VIP mezzanine floor, the player descended the stairs and smirked.
"I'm ready for that game now, Simon."
Simon stared at the player and put down his iPhone.
"Nah, you play him." He addressed the man, "You're in trouble now. You won't beat this guy."
The player extended his hand and smirked.
"I'm Sean. What's your name, mate?"
The man staggered off his stool.
"Danube."
"What?"
"Da-nube."
They shook hands.
"OK. First, I'll have a beer, Simon."
The man held onto the counter.
"I'll pay for it."
Simon and Sean exchanged a glance.
"I'll get it."
"Are you OK with him doing that?"
"Yeah. Thanks mate!"
Simon rolled a Coopers across the aluminium bar, popped the bottle and handed it to Sean.
"They're screw tops."
"It hurts my hand."
Sean picked up a two-piece cue that was lying on a table adjacent. The balls were already racked. He motioned to the man.
"Do you want to break?"
The man shook his head and drank.
Sean broke but no ball went down. The man stepped forward. With his back turned to Sean he extended a hand. Sean didn't move. He extended his hand a second time.
"Are we sharing -"
"There's sticks over there."
The man grabbed the first cue on the rack and walked back. He potted a red over the middle pocket and missed. Sean missed a yellow.
"Your shot."
The man turned to face the table.
"Am I yellow?"
"You're red!"
He potted a ball in the corner and doubled in another red.
Simon watched intently.
"I can't believe he can still play."
"Oh, I can play."
The man played a long shot and the ball bounced off two cushions.
A Nicki Minaj song started. He gingerly placed the cue against a stool and shuffled to the song.
"Two shots."
"What?"
"I missed! Two shots."
The man took a pull and picked up the cue after searching for it.
Sean stood next to Simon. The man leant over the table.
"Do you think he's tipsy?" asked Simon.
"Oh, he's tipsy," Danube answered.
He missed on the first shot, and nearly potted a double on the second.
Sean potted five balls whilst Danube sat down and tried to find the underside rails of the chair with his feet. Sean turned and faced the TV. Danube looked at him.
"I'll give you ten bucks if you win."
"I don't gamble."
Sean didn't return the glance. The man stared at him for a long moment before he looked for his cue.
He fired the white ball into the pack that clustered around the black.
"Two shots!" He twitched.
"Why?"
He shrugged and danced next to the table adjacent.
"Ok then."
Sean missed and potted the last yellows. He pushed the black around the baize.
Danube drained his glass. Sean took a pull from the Coopers. Danube missed an easy red and swore.
"My shot."
"I have one more." Danube motioned at Sean.
"OK then." Sean stepped back.
He pushed the white behind a red. He stood behind the eight ball.
"If you can hit your black I'll -"
Sean played off a cushion and the black jawed in the corner.
Danube shrugged and pushed the white behind another red. He had left a shot at the black.
"Shit!"
Sean won the game. He broke down his cue and packed it in its case.
"I gotta go. Thanks for the game!"
"I won't remember this, but what's your name?"
"Sean!"
They shook hands. Danube held on too long before he let go. Sean skolled his beer.
Hey! I owe you ten dollars.
Danube fumbled for his wallet.
I said no. I dont want your money.
Oh.
Sean motioned at Simon.
"See you soon."
"Yeah. See you, maate."
Sean grimaced and walked out the front door.
Danube climbed onto the stool and wobbled in the seat.
"Whisky bourbon."
Simon reached for the Jack Daniels. He placed the glass with the empty glass and bottles.
"Are you going to pay for this?"
"Oh, I'll pay for it, alright."

AAYL MAINTAIN EYE CONTACT


This is from 2003. An effort to keep things ticking over on the blog. In the throes - death throes?, I wish - of editing the manuscript to HS & HRS SEXXX GAMES, and as such I'm not writing any new content. I thought this was an interesting entry from the Angry Angry Young Lady diary; it's kind of witty and sardonic. No idea who I am talking about; I can't remember.  

************************** 


Sunday 17th of August
This week I will make a list and check it twice. I've got to start making presents for the kids. At this rate it'll never get done. It's late at night and I can't stop listening to sad songs. I'm meant to be jolly. Well, no, they're actually self-deprecating sad songs, but I believe the point has been made nonetheless. Now rub your hand against my bicep. Do it slowly, I can't take too much excitement. A little jab at stimulation is all I need. Stop! Enough! Continue talking! I retain the inalienable right to not exercise my divine right to react. Now laugh at the bad joke I might have made. Maintain eye contact. Keep the cross hairs locked. Break the shortest distance and direct your jabbering talk box into my ear. Pupils, and iris, and shoals of white, and deep skies of blue again. Wear that same black nightgown the next time we inexplicably meet. Smile, part your red lips and show me the rows of white teeth. No need to apologise for me not drinking. I'm not saying sorry for dead scars and red mounds of puffed-up skin rubbing up against the loaded space in between us. Hell, I'm not saying anything. I nearly forgot that. It feels like there is an invisible wire attached to my head, a wire which runs up into a hole in the ceiling. Somebody is holding the end of this wire and pulling it savagely every couple of seconds. Sorry, what was that? I'm battling to concentrate, what with the horrific jolts to my brain. Spear your right index finger into palm of my left hand. Now touch my bicep again. And again. And agai- stop! 

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Violet.


She had a tattoo of a violet on her bicep. Im not entirely sure about this, because she lived in one of the terrace houses on Violet Street. Im probably making up this detail courtesy of the fact.
For some reason Im imagining that her name was also Violet, but it could have been Victoria, or more likely, Candice or Candy.
Im positive the tattoo was a flower. I met her outside the Hyde Park Hotel.

I was at the Hyde Park with Evan. Bec, his girlfriend, was working at the Moon cafe, so Evan was at a loose end. I could play pool and he couldnt play pool, and he wanted me to teach him how to play pool. So we were playing pool. A game cost forty cents. It was a cheap night out.
Evan shared a story with me. Perhaps he did so earlier that evening, or perhaps in another time when we were together. In his story, Evan and Bec have a big night out at the Amplifier bar. He finds fifty dollars on the ground and proceeds to make himself falling down drunk. He can't find Bec. He rings Bec to see where she has gone. She is having sex with some other guy. Her words to him: Im being a prostitute! She doesn't turn up at their house until three days after.         
            I asked him then, or when he told me this, when that had happened.
            Two weeks ago.
            Thats horrible! I said, while my thoughts returned to us making out.

So at the Hyde Park, whilst we played pool, Evan discovered that the other guy was in the Hotels back room with us, amongst the patrons and pool tables. It was an unusual coincidence.
            The other guy was with a friend. They asked us if we wished to engage in a game of doubles. No recognition sparked in their eyes. We agreed to the game.
            Evan was a very bad player. But I had to make him feel better. I wasnt letting no girlfriend fucker get the better of my dear Evan. I played the meanest game I could. I shucked and jived and snookered and rope-a-doped. This is no easy thing to do in doubles pool. I was in Evans ear constantly and coached him incessantly and when I felt it I played for audacious doubles and triples and went for the improbable run-out. Evan potted a couple of balls too. Through our combined efforts we beat the other guy and his friend by five balls. I told Evan, that the next time this guy tries to fuck Bec, he will remember losing to you, the boyfriend, and his dick will be rendered flaccid instantly.

            We finally went outside. Evans friend Brad was there. Brad was talking to a woman with a violet tattoo on her bicep. They were negotiating going back to her house for a drink. She only lived two streets away. Evan and I said hello. They continued negotiating. I said I wouldnt mind a drink. Evan was ambivalent.
            So we walked with her back to her house. Brad didnt come with us. Violet was very drunk. She couldnt get over the fact that, wow, she was taking two gorgeous boys back home with her. Evan was rolling his eyes at me, or maybe I getting that feeling from the overall vibe.

            At the house Violet made us some tea. The radio was playing through the speakers of her home entertainment system. We sat out back, at the kitchen table. She had three little dogs and they were running around, barking, standing on their back legs, and trying to jump on my lap. I kept pushing them away, Whats the deal with these fuckers?
            Violet told us that we had to subscribe to the station because the station was running a Radiothon. I told her that I thought RTR started its pledge drive next week. But no, its Sunshine FM on the radio.
             Theyre doing their Radiothon this week. You should subscribe.
             Theyre a Christian radio, right? inquired super-sleuth Evan.
             Yeah you should subscribe.
The sound quality of the TV speakers wasnt great. Sunshine FM was ringing static. The kettle had boiled and she poured the water. There was no milk and the tea was pretty hot.
Her phone rang. Violet didnt answer. Violet called the phone a fuckwit.
             I hate him! Hes a fuckwit. Hes called me five times tonight.
Its her ex-. Isnt it always? The topic of conversation took a change.
Have you heard of the saying playing games? Thats what that fuckwit does.
We assured her that we were familiar. The dogs had calmed down and disappeared to wherever they went.
Where did you meet him? asked the ever-inquisitive Evan.
I met him at the Hyde Park just like how I met you!
You didnt meet us at the hotel. That was Brad.
Oh. Really?
There was a moment where she stood there, doing nothing. Im thinking that she was swaying.
I hate him. Hes a fuckwit! Hes called me five times tonight.
On cue, there was a knock at the screen-door. The dogs reappeared and ran around the kitchen, jumping on my lap. I didn't shoo them.  Evan and myself were silent.
Whos that? Violet asked no one. She staggered to the door. The dogs scampered after her.
I heard talking but I couldnt make out what was being said. Evan walked around the kitchen and looked out the window into the backyard. I blew in my cup and wished he would make a little less noise. 
Violet came back into the kitchen to inform us, "Here's here. I hate him. What a fuckwit!" before disappearing out front again.
Evan sat down at the dining table and we exchanged a thoughtful glance.
More sounds came from the front door but it certainly wasn't people talking. I was very still. A few minutes passed and Violet returned and asked us where the fuckwit had gone. We didn't understand and asked her to repeat the question.
"Where has he gone? I can't find him. I've looked everywhere. He went into my bedroom and has disappeared. What a fuckwit!"
She stopped her rant, lament, confusion in general, and waited for us to talk. She continued when we didn't.
"Have you heard the saying playing games? That's what that fuckwit does."
She slowly turned and looked through the hallway into the front of the house.
As she did so I told her, I told her it wasn't possible for him to disappear like that, maybe he knocked and left. She wasn't convinced and thought out loud.
"No, no, if he left, the door wouldn't be locked. Oh no! He's got a key!?"
She staggered down the hallway. Evan illuminated that he saw a dark shape walk into one of the rooms, as he had a view of the front door. 
Violet was only gone a moment.
"I found him! He's sleeping behind the bed! That fuckwit."
Evan and I were skulling our respective cups of tea. Evan asked the question that none of us wanted to hear:
Is he violent?
Yeah, he is, but I can deal with his violence.
She exited the room. I was going to be bashed now, all because I wanted to soothe my thirst with a cup of camomile tea. I fumbled for my phone and held it at arm's length. I pretended to read.
"Evan."
"Yeah?"
"Evan!" I shouted. "Bec! Bec sent me a SMS. She's waiting for us outside the Hyde Park."
Violet leant against the arch of the hallway.
"Oh, you guys had better go."
At the screen door we made our goodbyes. Violet told us it was, "Nice, meeting you." We said yep, yuh, yuh. I craned my neck to look into her bedroom but I didnt try very hard. I thought I could see someone's arm. And then we were out in the street. The door shut and was locked from the inside.
After a few steps, we started to run. We ran faster and faster, seeing who was the quickest, who could run the furthest, and we didn't look where we were going and laughed and laughed and laughed.

And now, when I'm on the bus, and the route goes by the row of terrace houses on Violet Street, I think about that. 

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

Live music.

I love music. For a while I’ve been considering posting reviews of new music. But I’ve always thought of an album review a staid proposition, because once the album reviewed is heard, then the review in question becomes mostly obsolete.

However, not everyone can see a band’s live gig and a band playing live is a good litmus test of their worth. It’s easy to sound good with studio assistance, not so without.

Over the years, I’ve seen a whole heap of live music. Some of it big names, others not so. Here’s an incomplete list, with venues and years (if I can recall), and my mild thoughts and recollections.

************************** 


Exhumed / Fuck… I’m Dead / Vaginal Carnage – Arthouse, Melbourne – 2003.




I believe I went to this gig for the support bands as much as the headliner, Exhumed. Maybe I was starved for seeing metal gigs. These days Exhumed are considered a classic extreme band. I don’t recall their set doing much for me. It’s pretty common for metal bands OS to be overshadowed by the local Australian support. Vaginal Carnage were the ubiquitous goregrind band of the night. The vocals were both brilliant and hilarious. At one point, the lead singer for Vaginal Carnage mistook me for one of the Exhumed guys and wanted me to come to the green room – ie where the bar kept the spare beer kegs – and smoke buckets. He died later that year. Fuck… I’m Dead wore white shirts covered in fake blood. They also used a drum machine. They were surprising tight. There was also a Sydney band on the bill. Possibly it was Garbage Guts? Halfway through their set they donned wigs and danced out YMCA. I also played a game of pool with one of the members of The Kill. 

Dillinger Escape Plan – Corner Hotel, Richmond – 2003.


Pre Miss Machine. Chris Pennie was still in the bad. They opened with ‘Sugar Coated Sour.’ When the song was finished, you could detect a small pause before the crowd went berserk in appreciation. It’s hard to get that reaction out of the fickle Melbourne crowd. I’m pretty sure Pennie triggered the samples during the set, too. Greg threw his microphone at the wall, Pennie wore headphones after the second song, Weinman played the guitar behind his head for ‘Abe the Cop.’


Cephalic Carnage / Akercocke – The Underworld, Camden, London – 2007.


When I was in Europe, trying to inseminate anything that moved. Some mediocre Brit bands supported. Cephalic Carnage opened with ‘Hybrid.’ That’s the song that starts as brutal death slams, then grind, and then morphs in space jazz. The band obviously didn’t have their own soundman doing front-of-house cause the mix was a complete mess, which sounded just right. Cephalic also played the title track off Lucid Interval, with all the noodling, false intros. It felt like no-one in the crowd knew how to react. The club in Camden didn’t do pass-outs, and I didn’t want to miss my train, so I left before Akercocke played.



Nine Inch Nails – Big Day Out, Bassendean – 2000.


Post the total destruction that was the Downward Spiral touring band. Trent still flipped a keyboard. When Trent first addressed the crowd, he sounded really unhinged and emotional but calmed down as the night progressed. The performance was impressive, if as much for the light show and visuals than for the impact that the music had. When they played ‘Hurt’, a tone-death Goth sung the entire song into my right ear as the crowd slow clapped.



Geek Show – Metropolis Night Club, Fremantle – 2003.






Tomahawk – Big Day Out, Claremont – 2001.



Mike Patton showed his dick to the crowd. He also deep throated the microphone and lost a filling.



Whitehouse – Greek Club, Perth – 2003.






Pungent Stench – Amplifier Bar, Perth – 2004/2005.



I saw these guys twice. The second time, I was fired for leaving my job early so I didn’t miss their set. I’ve always thought there should be a law for touring bands, where if they play in Perth, they have to include at least one ACDC song. Pungent Stench covered TNT. Both times they were here. The song received the best reaction of the night. They also played two grindcore songs.



Iron Lung – Hyde Park Hotel, North Perth – 2005.



Bands never play on time. We didn’t want to turn up and wait around Hyde Park for too long. We arrive fashionably late, twenty minutes after the advertised set time. Iron Lung had already started and finished. I bought their tour LP – it was in a DVD case. When the Hyde Park held gigs you had to pay for, they would setup a partition between the pool room area and the front bar. It was rather easy to stand on the other side of the partition and hear the bands for free. Here’s what someone else said about it.



AIDS – Grosvenor Hotel, Perth – 2000.



Back when the Grosvenor supported live music. This was in the front bar. Somebody I went to school with was having a twentieth birthday party and asked AIDS to play. AIDS were an old school grind band, similar in sound to Napalm Death, I guess. Short songs, but unfortunately no whammy bar solos. When they finished, the birthday boy jumped on the stage and did some DJ scratching as AIDS covered reggae.



Jed Whitey – Mojos Bar, North Fremantle – 2000.



Jed Whitey started off as a stoner rock band but by the time I saw them they were more proto-punk. This gig started out really good until the band messed up the start to a song and the audience laughed. The bass player called us hippy faggots and asked why we didn’t fuck off to the cappuccino strip for lattes. Then Jed Whitey continued to play. To say that there was a tension in the room after that would be an understatement. They were loud enough that my ears were ringing for the entirety of the next day.



A Perfect Circle – Somewhere in North Melbourne – 2003.



I used to love the first Perfect Circle album: Mer de Noms. This was the tour for the second album, and Geordie White and James Iha were in the band by then. There was paranoia about unsolicited filming, so no one was allowed to bring a bag inside the venue. Security was frisking everyone and there were huge lines outside every entrance. I had partial view seats. The best part about the gig was the music they played over the PA before the band proper. When the band started, I looked around at the audience and felt disgust with how everyone were getting into the music. I left after three songs and didn’t listen to A Perfect Circle for a long time after.



Snowman – Mojos Bar, Fremantle – 2001.



This was their third, or fourth, gig. It was pre-Triple J airplay, Pitchfork, Perth Scene friends, Joe McGee doing vocals and everything else. Back then they sounded more like an indie rock version of Radiohead, with horror film obsessed lyrics. After catching them at this gig, I went out of my way to see them whenever they played live, leading up to the band winning the Next Big Thing competition. The band went into the stratosphere and I didn’t have anything to do with them until a few years later, and by then it was too late as they sounded completely different to me.



Fear Factory – Metropolis Nightclub, Fremantle – 1998.



I do believe this was the first real live gig I ever went to. Fear Factory were still the classic line-up. Burton C. Bell pulled off his mix of grunts and clean singing convincingly. They also did an awesome version of PissChrist, a song I never liked on the album, but had a new appreciation for after. I was drinking Vodka, lime, bitters – don’t ask – which the bar staff would serve in pint glasses. Fear Factory played Raped Souls, which made my night.



Sleepy Jackson – Amplifier Bar, Perth / Newport Bar, Fremantle – 2001.



Sleepy Jackson were getting a huge buzz around this time: front cover of Spin; UK music press big noting the band. ‘The next thing in rock.’ I went with a group of friends to Amplifier. They sounded like modern country. I went into the beer garden after the first two songs. Friends loved the band. I couldn’t understand how I didn’t like the band; especially after all the attention they were getting. Sleep Jackson were playing in Fremantle the next night. I went alone. Paid my thirty bucks. Stood at the front. I had to make sure I was getting this right! They played modern country. I left after two songs. Luke Steele, you have my sixty bucks.



(Eskimo Joe supported at Newport. I deliberately missed them. They’re now huge in Australia.)



Converge – Amplifer Bar, Perth – 2006.



Standing room only for this gig. After the first four, five songs, the room was half full. I was disappointed that live, converge sound exactly like the studio albums. I was expecting something volatile, spontaneous - dare I say it? - dangerous. The choice of songs for the set-list left much to be desired. My interest in the band dropped after this.



Cephalic Carnage / Black Dahlia Murder – Amplifer Bar, Perth – 2007.



Another Amplifier gig! I went with a friend to this night. We spent more time in the beer garden talking about music, than we did watching music. Cephalic Carnage supported Black Dahlia, and as such played a shorter set than they did in London. They played Anthro Emesis; which isn’t my most favourite song they do, it also goes for nearly seven minutes! However, we got to see John Merryman do this hand warm-ups, which was impressive. We lasted half a song into Black Dahlia Murder before declaring, “Fuck this shit!”



Wolf Eyes / Cease / Extortion / Cobilis – Rosemount Hotel, North Perth – 2006.



One of my friends was mates with the Cease guitarist, so we go to visit the green room upstairs and drink the bands’ Red Bulls. Wolf Eyes smoked a joint before they went on. Chris Cobilis supported with a laptop, guitar and stool with his style of improvised, emotional rock with some loops. Cease were in their pre-wearing dresses, pre-overt worship of OM stage, before becoming darlings of the scene. I believe they didn’t sing with vocals this night, and their volume was lower than it should have been. (I originally made this a separate entry until I was fact checking the dates, I didn’t realise Extortion were the support!) Extortion: I believe this would have been around the Degenerate album period. Extortion has become a much better band since then. They played with the Rupture drummer at one point but I don’t know if he played for them this night. Rohan introduced a song with “this is about new movies, which in my opinion are all fucking shit.” Wolf Eyes pulled a great crowd for noise music. Besides from Stabbed in the Throat, they didn’t play much from the Subpop album. It also felt like they were cheating with the home-made instruments. They were more music, than actual noise. After the set, my friend and I did a good impersonation of their sound in the Rosemount car park outside.



Metallica / Lamb of God / Baroness – Perth Burswood Arena – 2010.



We arrived too late for Baroness. I didn’t even know they were supporting. I also didn’t realise I was watching Lamb of God until the end, when Randy Blythe announced, “We are Lamb of God!” Seriously overrated. My mum – yes, I went with my mum – turned to me and said, ‘I liked the sound of their guitars!’ Yep, that’s how extreme they are. Metallica? They played Orion! Who cares how they were.



Abe Sada – The Castle, Highgate – 2006.



This was an infamous band put together by Cat Hope, which featured a revolving cast of local Perth musicians and identities, usually four of them, all playing bass guitars. Yes, there were only bass players in this band. On this night, there were four bassists. One of them was Chris Cobilis. The music was unstructured – to me at least – improvisation. At the end, Cobilis was banging the headstock of his guitar into the ground, creating a sound that – to paraphrase Discharge – sounded like a giant door slamming in Hell. My ears were ringing for three days afterwards.



Tool / Melvins – Perth Entertainment Centre, Perth – 2002.



During the Lateralus tour. Tool sounded exactly like their albums. I was sitting so far back the band looked like ants. The best part was the visuals they played behind the band. When they played Anima, Danny Carey hit the mystical gong behind him and the resulting sound made me think my eardrums had popped. The Melvins wore black nighties with red love hearts.



Akron Family – Mojos, Fremantle – 2011.



We had been looking forward to this gig for about a month. Akron acted like prima donnas with the lighting setup on the stage; as in: it’s shining in our faces! The band called us pussys cause we weren’t getting into it more. The band played none of the songs we liked. Their improvised drum circle crap was anything but – they play the same noise shit at every gig, the same way. Major letdown, haven’t listened to their music ever since.