SINCE THE RELEASE of Metallica’s new album I’ve come across a few reviews that start by sharing their personal stories with the band, primarily from people who were ‘into them’ even before Kill Em All came out or at least prior to the death of Cliff Burton.
Sadly my parents didn’t have the fortitude to conceive me before 1985 and I didn’t have the musical nous to purchase those early albums and subsequent street cred during my infancy. The fact that my Dad listened to Roy Orbison and my Mum is a Monkees fan also had some bearing. Continue reading
I’m a big fan of Nick Offerman, who most people know as the indomitable Ron Swanson on TV’s Parks and Recreation. As well as his most famous character I’ve seen and enjoyed his roles of varying length in many films and shows, I’ve read his written material and I genuinely enjoy his outlook on life.
I was a little disappointed upon reading that his wife, Megan Mullally, had cancelled her appearance as one half of their double-billed ‘Summer of 69 – No Apostrophe’ show that was set to tour the country – but hey, Offerman is an established actor with theatre chops who’s toured a host of his own shows around the USA, so I was still keen.
Full Bush is an ode from Offerman to the many, bushy aspects of life that we all share ‑ from the hair in our nether regions to survivalism and the reckless approach to life of a former US President with the same name. While I don’t agree with some of this thoughts on pubic maintenance, and it was also hard to take from a man who is renowned for facial hair but stood before us without any, it’s still a great premise and served as a strong undercurrent to the performance. Continue reading
Photo: Robyn Von Swank/Gigantic Squid
Sometimes these Netflix reviews won’t be about shows that have been recently released. Hell, sometimes they won’t even be about shows that are exclusive to Netflix.
Garfunkel and Oates falls into both of these categories. Originally broadcast on an American network back in 2014, it was only recently added to the Netflix catalogue (at least in Australia). I’ve seen the duo perform on TV at various Melbourne International Comedy Festival Galas, and they impressed with their combination of serene folk music with clever lyrics, often rife with innuendo, so I was naturally inclined to give it a watch.
My natural instinct with this show is to compare and contrast it with Flight of the Conchords. Is that unfair? Possibly, but they’re both television comedies about folk music duos of a similar age with funny takes on everyday life, and there are so many articles out there calling them the female version of the Kiwi duo (which isn’t an insult, although it’s a little easy), so why not? Because it’s lazy? Bite me. Continue reading
Hands up if you’re on pingers! (Photo: Rukes.com)
In the wake of last weekend’s Sydney leg of the Stereosonic festival, the family of 25-year-old Sylvia Choi must now come to terms with her death after an overdose of what the media are calling ‘ecstasy and MDMA’. It was the fifth death by overdose at an NSW music festival in the past year.
Once again the rest of us will hear the lament of police about how not enough is being done and how stupid festival-goers are, the reports about what a bright and normal person Sylvia was, commentary on the problems of recreational drugs in society and the social media posts from people who’ve never taken drugs asking why people feel the need to do so at music festivals.
Sylvia’s death, just like all the others, is a tragedy. A life cut short is never a good thing.
What confuses me is the invisible line between idiocy and misfortune, where someone who is apprehended by police can be called an idiot, but if they get in, take the drugs and die, they’re a victim and a tragic loss.
Kid’s got a better plastic surgeon than Michael Jackson..
Thanks to being far more busy over the last week than I anticipated I haven’t had the chance to delight you all with my witticisms and hilarity. For that I am sorry, but it’s OK – I’m back! – If only for a while.
I decided to ditch the book vs. movie format I experimented with all of once, because let’s face it, the book is always better – but the first two are movies I watched within 24 hours of reading the last page of the book.
Pet Semetary (1989)
I’ve recently fallen into King, which I guess makes me a late bloomer. But I’ve been marching through his books slowly and watching the movie renditions. I’d warn of spoilers but the movie is 25 years old. There are a few key differences between book and film.
The most annoying to me was probably the cat. After he dies and Louis buries him, he returns. In the movie he’s immediately portrayed as sinister, through cuts of hissing and yowling. Terrifying? Sure. In the book, though, the cat (named Church), is more eerie than terrifying. He loses his cat-like qualities such as agility and speed, and becomes a docile, reclusive and uncoordinated anomaly. Why is this different? I guess it’s pretty hard to justify the use of some kind of heavy sedative on a cat just for the sake of the movie. Still, it’s weak.
30 years is a long time. I’m 29 so I can’t speak from first-hand experience, but I would assume.
The irreversible march of time means a lot changes in 30 years. Friends and family come and go, sunrise and sunset, blah blah blah – and you could say much the same about Sepultura.
But it was with the joy of a teenager that I finally got to cross the Brazilian gods of metal off my list of bands to see on Sunday at the Manning Bar – a venue so small it belied the fact that the name Sepultura is an institution of metal, supported by their 30 years of longevity Continue reading
On Sunday I had the joy of going out and watching a gig for the first time in what felt like years. The music (supplied by Brazilian metal gods Sepultura) took me back to my aggressive teenage days – but there was something else that happened that took me back to practically every single gig I’ve been to. Perhaps you can relate.
This gave me an idea for another of my classic poems, which from conception to completion took all of 15 minutes. I wonder if any of the classic poets and literary greats had the intentional ease and dazzling skill that I do… hmmm. Anyway. Continue reading