A massive vote of thanks to that master of all things rocking and obscure, Master Paul Haines, who responded to my whining regards my lack of Painters & Dockers material by sending over a DVD filled with no less than 2 CDs worth of Drinkin’ Jimmy and his pals, along with much in the way of Captain Sensible and other weird and wonderful stuff from the decade that taste forgot (that’d be the 80’s to those of you who didn’t live through Hypercolour, mumble pants, and The Human League).
Much in the way of odd and enjoyable singalong-type activities have since commenced…
If you’ve not yet done so, you really should check out Midnight Echo, the magazine of h0rror fiction put out by the Australian Horror Writer’s Association, for no other reason than it’s put into print some damn fine and froody dark fiction in its two published issues so far.
As of September 1st, the submission period for issue 4 will commence, and said issue will be guest-edited by none other than your humble correspondent. Guidelines can be found here, but in general, I’ll be looking for stories under 5000 words that make me look up from the page and shiver. Keep in mind: I don’t scare easily, and stories of the creeping-tentacles-of-doom-doom-doom variety bore me shitless. If you want to know what really scares me, look in your mirror: see that thing looking back at you from behind your eyes that you’d swear doesn’t belong to you?
Send your submissions to firstname.lastname@example.org.
It’s been a couple of weeks since I last reported, and I wish I had something gosh-wow-amazing to talk about, but we’ve just been getting on with life these last couple of weeks: fitting in bits and bobs of writing around whatever edges we can find; working, cleaning; doing our taxes; catching up with various TV shows and fillums, including the deeply disappointing True Blood; the infinitely more interesting and enjoyable Being Human; the excellent soundtrack with an ordinary movie attached The Boat That Rocked (which, incidentally, features the superb Philip Seymour Hoffman doing the single best impersonation of my bestie, the immortal Seanie, that I’ve ever seen); the suprisingly not as shit as I secretly hoped it’d be The Day The Earth Stood Still remake; and generally just being a smoothly-running family in a seaside suburb.
Sorry ’bout that. I’m sure we’ll have an interesting catastrophe soon…
Connor: When I grow up, I don’t want to be a spaceman.
Me: Okay. What do you want to be?
Connor: (accompanied by uber-huggle) A daddy.
You heard it here first– I rock.
No, not the title of a very unfortunate porn video Bill Gates made when he was young and needed the money, but a list of the 7″ singles I dug out of my cupboard this morning. Dedicated to Ben Payne and Sean Williams, who can understand the strange love:
Endless Road- Time Bandits
Sweet & Sour- The Takeaways
Get It On- Power Station
Missing You- John Waite
Antmusic- Adam & the Ants
I Walk Away- Split Enz
Lean On Me- Red Box
Run Runaway- Slade
Don’t Believe Anymore- Icehouse
Sun City- Artists Against Apartheid
Out Of Touch- Hall & Oates
One Of The Living- Tina Turner
Good Times- INXS & Jimmy Barnes
99 Luftballons- Nena
And We Danced- Hooters
Prince Charming- Adam & the Ants
Nights In White Satin- Moody Blues
Stand & Deliver_ Adam & the Ants
Two Tribes- Frankie Goes to Hollywood
The Tide Is High- Blondie
Electric Avenue- Eddy Granty
Let’s Dance- Chris Rea
Relax- Frankie Goes to Hollywood
One Night in Bangkok- Murray Head
We Gotta Get Out of This Place- The Angels
I’m willing to defend most of them, but can offer no excuse for this one. And maybe the Chris Rea’s a bit naff in retrospect.
As for the following, I offer my enormous crush on the blond saxophonist as mitigation (and the fact that the show was pretty cool), as well as the fact that the song holds up pretty well, even if the film clip doesn’t (What’s with the girl doing endless flips in the background, and David Reyne’s, well, everything?)
And just so you don’t go through your whole life under the misapprehension that I’m completely cool, I’d like to point out that I’ve spent the last week trying to remember the name of this song and the band who sang it (I got as far as “Scandinavian band and something about an open road”) before realising this morning that I still own the 7″ single I bought when it first came out….
PS: They’re Dutch.
PPS: I actually still really like it.
PPPS: You can take the boy out of the 80s…
I defy you not to bop. Dockers cover Get Smart What’s not to love? (Sigh. Memories of 1990 at the Shents. maddest fucking concert I’ve ever been to. Sigh)
Lyn and I went on a bit of a Youtubery nostalgia trip yesterday, watching vids by the likes of Schnell Fenster, Machinations, Daddy Cool and Billy Thorpe while the kids tried their best to ignore us. Let me tells ya, batterspals, I will proclaim Friend for Life for anyone willing to burn me some Painters & Dockers and send me the CD (and, you know, I’ll pay for postage).
Love ém love ém love ém.
And speaking of the magnificent Jasoni, he’s developed a glimpse into the general Battfuture in a little piece he’s worked up for the Daily Cabal entitled Tucker’s Galleria. If you’ve ever wanted to know what will happen to Lyn and myself many years from now, here’s your chance.
While you’re there, have a browse. There’s a bunch of froody fictional funnings going on, including work by another of the more talented Clarion South ’07 gradutates in the boombastic Dan Braum. It’s a good way to spend a couple of hours drinking from the fictional font of freeness.
Specifically for the magnificent Jasoni, whose deep hatred of Lily Allen enabled Lyn and I to discover her work (and become fans 🙂 ), another waifish girly-girl I discovered yesterday thanks to the Triple J request show. For your listening pleasure, Lisa Mitchell: