Here we are at the seventh day of our isolation watch. And it’s time to bring to the attention of the world– or at least the three of you reading this who haven’t witnessed a single Australian fireworks show since 1984 — one of my favourite underrated Aussie bands, GANGgajang.
Most famed for a nationalistic slice of 1980s pop perfection everyone thinks is called This is Australia, but which is actually called Sounds of Then, because Australians don’t actually listen to lyrics if the hear the world Austrayyyaaaa and they’re outside during a National Holiday (TLDR: pissed), their self-titled debut album inspired such lust in me that I begged my poor, long suffering mother for it for several months. Subsequently, she bought me a receipt…… and The Best of RamJam, because that was as close as she could remember when she hit the shop.
That receipt brought me a lot of joy over the years, as well as the album it enabled me to finally get my hands on.
Keen-eyed readers will have noted that I’m basically using these posts to comment on the world around me as the Days of Covid-19 (c) (IT’S MY MOVIE, DAMN IT! MINE!) continue.
So I leaned very strongly towards the classic House of Cards as an obvious metaphor for the way simple things are turning to shit around us. Seriously: today was food shopping day, and despite visiting both major supermarkets this town has, there was literally not one bar of soap or bag of flour of any type between them. Not even the ones made out of things soap and flour shouldn’t be made from, like toddler’s toenails, or charcoal, remained.
Instead, I’ve gone with the song that made me first fall in love with Buzz Bidstrup’s answer to getting shafted from some decent The Angels wages. Gimme Some Lovin’ might not be the obvious choice of title for our Apocalypsalooza, but given there’s some confusion as to whether you can Level 3 travel restrictions as long as you’re on a booty call, (I mean, I’m good, but even I might draw the line at classifying it as ‘exercise’) and with lyrics like
Well it’s happening again, like I always thought it would.
Mad men dancing in the streets and fire drains.
And it’s a strange infatuation, taking off across the nation.
Crazy darling combination. Since it’s one last move and it’s all over
perhaps it’s not so out of left field as all that.
So: thanks for helping to facilitate a lifelong love, Mum, and for the rest of you, enjoy.
If you’ve missed the party so far, because you’re not allowed out unless you’re somebody society is willing to sacrifice or this is a potential booty call, here’s what you could have been listening to instead of saving lives or bonking in the name of exercise:
- A is for the Angels
- B is for the Butthole Surfers
- C is for The Cat Empire
- D is for Dead Kennedys
- E is for Everclear
- F is for Faith No More