Avant garde, no?

Hey there, gentle reader!

Apparently, young Flashman has passed some sort of baton to me.

Don't worry, it's a metaphorical baton. I think.

Anyway, the point is, I'm supposed to write about the music on my hard-drive.

This is where we run into the first of many problems.

1. I don't have any music on my hard-drive.

And then shortly afterwards, we are hit with the second problem - in a manner not unlike being hit by a priest who has been hit by a mack truck. Cassocks everywhere.

2. Hey man... don't try and fit my round peg into your little square holes of conformity! (Try some patchouli oil, it's GREAT!)

But I was going to write about music anyways, so here we go.

Last Saturday night, I went to the Warragul Battle of the Bands.

Now, I know what you're thinking, gentle reader. You're thinking, "Warragul? Battle of the Bands? There's a wacky combination that will surely end in bad White Stripes cover times."

BAD GENTLE READER! BAD! I slap you down, and then I slap you down a second time to drive the point home that you are pre-judging like a motherfucker.

Warragul is quite capable of producing fine musicians, thank you very much...

Why... I remember... it comes to me now through the mists of time... Nineteen Ninety Eight...

The Year was 1998, and the Warragul Music Scene was going off...

Count The Weirdos, Snorkel, Pensive, The Voorhees... a wide and varied selection of fine punk-funk rock.

Now, I know what some of you are thinking... You're thinking, "But Dr. Cam, I thought you were busy having submachine guns shoved in your face in some heathen country from Halloween 97 to Mid 2000?"

Anyway, the point is, while I might have missed out on the Warragul scene circa 1998 due to unforseen gunplay, I became quite familiar with it after attempting to do an article on rural music scenes a few years back... I watched the videos, talked to the peoples, called upon the Dark Lord Satan to do my bidding.

"SATAN, I BESEECH THEE, DELIVER UNTO ME A CHALICE OF GOLD AND RUBY! NOT COPPER AND RED CRAYON THIS TIME, PLEASE! ROCK POWAH!"

But it didn't work out.

Anyway, the point is, I know what Warragul is capable of producing, and I was rather concerned that the BOTBs would not be able to deliver.

I SLAP MYSELF DOWN! AND A THIRD TIME! Oh, you like that, don't you, Dr. Cam... Naughty! NAUGHTY BOY! OH!

Oh, hello, Gentle Reader, I didn't realise you were still there. Shall we carry on awkwardly?

Anyway, me and my posse (Vegie + SteveSteve) rocked up around 30 minutes into the bizness. We got checked for weapons at the door, and we headed on in.

If I was in the CIA, my bare hands would be registered as lethal weapons, and no amount of cheap-ass Dick Smiths metal detector would stop me from assassinating whomever I wanted.

But that's not the point.

The point is, we arrived in the middle of Please Turn Over's 3 song set... Now, I grabbed Please Turn Over's demo back in late December, after having seen a flyer looking for a guitar, with the intention of putting it on the radio.

My DJ compatriot Luke had dug it... I was less impressed. They're tight, musically, but I'm not really into that kind of thing, but I'm flattered by your proposition nevertheless.

Anyway, Please Turn Over - Live... BLOWS THEIR RECORDED WORK AWAY WITH A SHOTGUN.

In fact, five shotguns taped together with duct tape, with sparklers glued to the side. Pretty.

It was quite rocking - and THE STAGE PRESENCE! Oh my, is it getting hot in here? A young lady even fainted... Well, okay, a young lady fainted in the bathroom some time later, but it's not entirely impossible that the sheer ferocity of their rock power was responsible.

Anyway, then there were a few other good bands, and DJ Luke and I conferred.

Dr. Cam: DJ Luke, these bands are pretty good.
DJ Luke: Yes, they will make Jason Lives look like talentless hacks.
Dr. Cam: Hahahahahahaha. Oh, Luke, Jason Lives make Jason Lives look like talentless hacks.
DJ Luke: This conversation didn't happen quite like this.
Dr. Cam: True. But still, I'm pleasantly surprised.
DJ Luke: Me also, who would have thought the Greater Warragul area could hold so much talent.

So I slapped him down.

"YOU TALENTLESS HACK," I screamed, "DON'T BE PLAYA-HATIN'!"

There were a couple of dodgy high-school coverbands... but you know, musically tight, which is good. There were quite a few really good bands... There was one odd band with the little brother of Spankin' Biff & The Pignappers' bass player on keyboards... they were introduced like this...

MC: Now we've had a lot of great bands tonight, but here's a band that's invented their own musical genre... (suspenseful pause - great showmanship, Mr. MC) COMEDY ROCK. It's the FLAMING WEASELS.

Slap.

Despite the ridiculously false introduction, the alternayouth of Warragul WENT FUCKING OFF!

Who knows?

Anyway, the whole deal wrapped up, and Please Turn Over won first prize... and then it was time for Jason Lives to play.

Christ, we got out of there as fast as we possibly could. Jason Lives?

NO THANKS!

Okay, maybe it was cos we had to get down to Melbourne before midnight for HENRY ROLLINS.

Oh me! Oh my! What a show, Henry!

He is shorter than you would think, and filled me with self-righterous moderate left-leaning fury. Damn straight, Henry, let's show the bastards what we're fucking made of.

Anyway, speaking of music, I went and saw SixFtHick last night... Now, that's a rock and roll show.

My ears are like, "Fuck you, Dr. Cam, we're not taking your punk ass back."

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