your world is going to change nothing

Oh oh oh.... I like this song. It's been around for a while, but I have been indulging my youtube sensibilities categorically viewing the cover versions posted as part of the Okkervil River cover project.
Basically, last year Will Sheff and his magically musical bandmate buddies asked their similarly tunefully inclined friends to record a cover of one the songs featured in upcoming album The Stand Ins.

After watching the covers, I revisted the Okkervil River originals, and was reminded just how much I love this song.
Whilst it lacks the deep introspectivity of tracks such as Starry Stairs (wonderfully covered by our own Jack Ladder), the cheeky meaning permeates the cultural references.

The song has a fantastic Carly Simon quality to it. Confused? Allow me to explain. Okkervil River is seen as a musician's band- the strong fan base is generated not through massive airplay, but underground word of mouth. Therefore to be invited into their clique is somewhat of an indication of your worth in the creative scene.

Ergo, is Sheff having a bit of a go at himself? Someone specific? Or the generic throbbing mass of people who believe that their music tastes and fashion stylings render them unique and culturally valuable?

OR, is it a greater attack on creativity? After all, a world without Shakespeare, Stoppard and Sheff would undoubtedly be far duller, but at the end of the day, would history be fundamentally shifted?

If you choose not to follow my overly complex lyrical pondering, just enjoy the killer guitar refrain and Sheff's Austin-cum-Brooklyn vocal stylings.

And here's the David Vandervelde cover, as I cannot find a good quality youtube video of Okkervil. Maybe head over to elbo.ws for a sneaky listen. But don't tell them I sent you... go musical copyright and all that.

Turns Out I Was the Hot One?

Whilst our explanations of the concept of a ‘retard’ has been documented at length, our blog subtitle of ‘Turns Out I Was The Hot One’ has thus far been left swaying there, lonely in the wind and devoid of context.

I assure you, it springs not from an arrogant concept of self worth, but to a discussion L and I shared regarding a notion we coined the “Relationship Ledger”. Like an accounting balance sheet, this ledger resembled a set of scales, in which each side represented one party to the relationship. Weight was added for perceived positive attributes each person brought to the relationship, whilst negative weights could be placed for factors which were detrimental to the relationship.

Our theory was that a successful relationship was dependent upon equal contribution from each party, and that we could objectively determine our position in any engagement by reference to the scale.

However, an issue arose in the fact that these ‘attributes’ were indeed subjective and hence the scale was a faulty model.

Examples?

Well I considered ambition. At age 22, the world is supposedly my oyster. I have plans, dreams and hopes. My challenge is making these ambitions possibilities. Hence as a reasonably ambitious individual, I naturally seek a partner who shares the recognition that it is important to seek out what makes you happy and a path to this goal.

However, I recently learnt there is such a thing as too much ambition. A recent liaison with a delightful musician illustrated that it is possible to pursue aspirations to the detriment of all other aspects of life. Whilst I was content with being second in line to his musical dreams, I was not satisfied with being a relative non-entity.

Similarly, early on in a relationship way back in 2005, my partner expressed he was so attracted to my intelligence, and musical passions. It is here where I have to contradict Jack Ladder. After it emerged that my final year high school marks were higher than his, and that his position as ‘the smart one’ in the relationship was not concrete, he was not so impressed. Further contention arose when he also realised my musical sensibilities were more finely tuned than his.

Sorry Jack, but it seems that physicality could compare to our brainy affair. At least a partner with ‘legs up to here’ has a leg to stand on in the relationship.

So it seemed that our scale was destined to fail. We still remained none the wiser in our quest to understand the delicate balance which represented successful relationships.

And in the meantime, we drank the last dregs of red wine from our glasses we had previously clinked to signify a failed relationship of mine, and counselled ourselves in the fact that at least I was still ‘the hot one’. And that folks, is how blogs are born.

Take that Kingsmill!

Radio station Triple J recently hosted the first Hottest 100 of all time countdown in over ten years, claiming to be the biggest listener –based music poll in the world.

Over the weekend of the countdown, presenters remarked on the feeling of community and togetherness felt as we debated, denounced and delighted at the slow reveal of tracks until the ultimate Nirvana anthem.

It seems that we all feel affinity with music as it provides the soundtrack of our lives. I cannot remember for the life of me where I saw this, but I read an interview recently with a fairly well-known Australian musician who stated he realised music was his chosen path after a few too many occasions of choosing a song, blasting it and imagining he was the star of his own movie, with soundtrack carefully selected.

Not content to exist in his own personal Garden State, he realised that he could instead create the soundtrack to his life, and in doing so live a life worthy of a feature film.

The notion of a soundtrack to your life really struck a chord with me (ha, awesomely bad music pun). As I listened to Richard Kingsmill reveal the top 5 tracks, I realised they were included for incredibly specific reasons- namely the extent to which they resonate with individuals own narratives.

Rage Against the Machine’s Killing in the Name has become immortalised in Big Day Out history, seeming that standing with thousands of other drunken sweaty youths shouting “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me” is indeed a rite of passage.

Similarly, Cohen’s Hallelujah is continually misinterpreted by all those thinking it a Buckley original, despite the subversions in intent and meaning. Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit remains the anthemic tribute to youth and all that goes with it. We continue to identify with the almost possessed drones despite the fact so many of us were barely in Junior School at the time of its release.

For me, my Top 5 memory relates to Joy Division’s Love Will Tear Us Apart. In the early hours of the morning some months ago, a group of substance addled individuals congregated in an Oxford St bar to partake in after-show festivities following a gig in Paddington.

Joy Division was played, and in our state we decided to follow the instructions of The Wombats and indeed dance to celebrate the irony. We all laughed at this musical travesty. All except the singer of one of the bands that had performed earlier, who questioned what the song was, and why everyone loved it so.

I backed away slowly, mortified that someone who derived their income from music could be so woefully ignorant of that beyond his own creation.

Anyway, enough band slagging. In the spirit of musical lists, I wanted to post my Top 5 songs which have influenced me over my life. I do hope you will forgive the self-indulgence. I promise they are awesome.

The Beatles- Yesterday
Possibly the first pop song I ever heard. Apparently as a baby I would only sleep in classical music was playing, however from age 2 my Father would sing this to me as I fell asleep. Despite being separated by oceans, whenever I hear this I feel like he is in the room with me.


2. Jefferson Airplane- White Rabbit
Also introduced to me by my Father as an 8 year old in London. I remember seeing photos of my Dad as a hippy with flowing blonde hair, bell bottom jeans and joint in hand outside Royal Albert Hall waiting for a Hendrix Concert.

Years later my friends and I stayed with him at his farm in rural New Zealand. Lying in a paddock beneath the perfectly clear night sky, surrounded by nothing else but empty wine bottles, we shouted “Remember what the door mouse said, keep your head, KEEP YOUR HEAD” into the stratosphere.


3. NSYNC feat Nelly- Girlfriend (Remix)
So it is here where I lose any semblance of musical credibility. This is pure twee pop in its worst form, complete with early noughties ‘rapping’. However let me explain. At age fourteen after spending a month in Zimbabwe for a family funeral, I was met at Sydney airport by my best friend- the first person my age I had spoken to for four weeks. I felt instantly at peace. It started three months of perfect summer weather, and the best summer of my life. For better or worse, this song remains the soundtrack to some of my best memories and even know when it occasionally plays through Itunes, I smile and know that everything is ok.

Apparently Justin Timberlake has disabled embedding on his youtube clips. Well Justin, I VERY MUCH DOUBT anyone actually wanted to listen to it anyway.

4. Kings of Leon- Milk
The most recent inclusion on my little list, this song represents everything I love about songwriting. The shifts, the simplistic chord structures, the heartbreak audible in Caleb Folowill’s voice- all of this made me fall in love. The line “called and I called but I can’t get through. Said he’s on his own, but his own is you” kills me. Such a tragic turn of phrase- expressing so much with so few words. After hearing this song I realised I wanted to be able to make music.

5. Leonard Cohen- Bird on A Wire
By far my favourite Cohen track. The opening lines:
Like a bird on a wire
Like a drunk in a midnight choir
I have tried in my way to be free…

I get chills from this moment on. The lyrics are beautifully ambiguous, heart-wrenchingly earnest and rich with simplistic imagery. I’m also a sucker for self-referential songs, so these lines win me over hook, line and sinker:
But I swear by this song
And by all that I have done wrong
I will make it all up to thee

A positively beautiful song, more favourably re-imagined by others than Hallelujah which is so frequently done a disservice in its repetition.

Sneaking into my top ten includes the following:
6. Radiohead- Creep: Being allowed to use the f-word when singing was a great novelty to me as a child. This song is still a regular favourite for drunken group karaoke.


7. Bob Dylan- Like a Woman: Rumoured to be written aout Edie Sedgwick. Pure songwriting genius. No explanation needed.

8. Ian Carey Project: Get Shaky. This rivals NSYNC on pure humiliation. However, it is contextually essential to this blog. Let me tell you a tale….

We set the scene… the backseat of a car, 3.30am. College St Sydney driving home from a very naughty night in Kings Cross.

This song is playing, and four inebriated girls sing loudly. Miss L remarks that this is the Myspace song of a boy currently stalking her, and ponders if it was a message that he wanted to ‘get shaky’ with her.

I immediately reply: “Oh L, he couldn’t shake you if he tried”.

Henceforth this song became ingrained in Summer 2008/2009 folklore and became the catch-phrase of our friendship circle for many months to come.

(back to the list)

9. Jack Ladder- Two Clocks. What’s a list without some Jack? One of the few songs from his first album to survive to the current set-list, this song is, in simplest terms, a mind-fuck. The seemingly sweet lyrics set against a simple melody and the classic inter-play of male-female vocal dynamic disguise a warning against the dangers of loving too much. The clever composition is unnerving in that it never allows the listener to truly understand Rogers’ intentions. There is a reason this has been played over 150 times on my Itunes.

10. Cream- White Room. Quite simply, a bloody fantastic track. Features Cream’s signature transcendental militaristic juxtaposition of psychedelic shoe-gaze with striking lyrics and strong beats. This is the song I would want as the soundtrack to my life in my own imaginary feature film.

Meanwhile, this live video is amazing. Bands these days just can't play live like this anymore. Also... isn't the drum pattern remarkably similar to Tame Impala's Half Full Glass of Wine?

I hope this hasn't been to painful... I believe Miss L will be posting a similar list, however hers shall be infinitely better I am sure (with far less embarrassing music).

Meanwhile, what would you put in your list?

I'm going to make a playlist of my Top 10 and go totally fucking Mexico...

What's Love Got to Do With It?

Welcome, one and all to a new regular feature of this little spot: the Mass-Debate. Yes, say it out loud. It’s rude. And funny. Ha ha ha…. (see, laughter!)

Anyway, this idea sprouted directly from a conversation between the two contributors to this site as to an issue directly related to relationships and dating. We disagreed on this issue, and both began stating our cases as to why we were correct.

Then, as great minds so often do, we came to the same idea: why not redirect this energy to a more permanent form, complete with structured sentences, and less wine.

So here you have it: The Mass-Debate!

Topic One: Is love really necessary?

Carrying the flag for love is Miss A, whilst Miss L argues the point that we’re all just fine the way we are, without those pesky emotions getting in the way.

Here you go… sit down, strap in and we hope you enjoy….

This Modern Love: The affirmative from Miss A

It must be the Libran in me, but I love Love.

However let me clarify. I love deep, true and private love. I absolutely despise twee, commercialised conceptions of love. Public displays of affection make me physically ill. In fact, my friend and I have been known to throw bread rolls at those who offend our senses of public decency by engaging in some form of tongue war.

I cannot comprehend ‘chick flicks’ and am perhaps the only member of my close circle who just doesn’t quite ‘get’ Twilight (the wayfarers however, yes). Similarly, grand gestures give me no joy- the dozen roses, the teddy bears, the Valentines Day pressure- not for me.

What I do appreciate is that unparalleled friendship, bond and understanding that is only possible between two people intimately involved. Having one person able to identify your every emotion just by the way you move your hands, divert your eyes and your vocal inflections is both frightening and incredibly special.

Having someone know all of your stories, but still be happy to sit through them as you absent mindedly repeat the tale, someone that knows that it is not words that are necessary in times of crisis, but the ability to mix a good gin and tonic.

What is Love?

Love is coming home to see your boyfriend changing the oil in your car to save you having to pay for it a week before you are leaving him to go pursue London adventures.

Love is him crying at the airport dropping you, even though you will be back in a week.

Love is deciding to order takeaway so you can sit and watch Masterchef together rather than worrying about dinner.

Love is sitting in the rain, watching him play rugby every weekend for years. Love is going to his gig and watching the same songs every time, but still getting a little excited when you hear the one you know is about you.

Love is hangovers shared. Streaky day old makeup, that undeniable ‘day after drinking’ smell, and dissolving two Berocca’s rather than one.

Love is pain. Love is paranoia. Love is jealousy. Love can really hurt.

But how can one appreciate joy without its relative evil twin? Without resorting to crude make up sex references, there is something to be said for disagreement as cathartic, developmental and evolutionary to a relationship.

The pain, the hurt and the feeling of vulnerability we feel are directly related to the care, and reflective of the importance and value we place on the relationship.

To discount love for fear of hurt is to reject feeling.

I would rather endure all the lows so I can keep topping my memory bank of highs. For even when I am alone I can recall first dates, walks in the rain, nights spent in bed, man stroking your hair as you sing your favourite tunes together. I can recall holidays, birthdays, adventures and laughter, yet in all of my relationships, I struggle to remember disagreement despite its obvious presence.

And besides, without pain, how could someone produce lyrics such as these? (and how could we both empathise, and swoon to them at the same time?)

You won’t be forgotten when you leave,
You won’t fade away in the windmill of my mind
You will be named in song, that I’ll sing and suffer in a strict 4/4 time

(Thanks Jack!)

Love is Gone:Negative from Miss L

Ahhh does it really have to be 500 words long???? I’m really sick at the moment, and so I probably make no sense, but I’ve just written things I think are true and I hope it collectively relates to the question.

Some conclusions I have made following my own, combined with others’ similar, romantic experiences:

1. You can’t rely on a boyfriend’s love to make you happy. You need to be happy within yourself, and love yourself, before you can love someone.

2. Men can change their mind about how they feel about you, extremely quickly. Whether you are extremely sensitive emotionally, or not, you are going to be hurt, because he will change his mind. After this has happened a few times, you will be scared to go out with anyone new, and probably find yourself focussing your romantic energy into a narrow ‘top five crush system’. Crush #1 not fulfilling you today? Move onto Crush #2, and so on. My top five crushes include men who are wholly unattainable. No disappointment is possible. I am safe. Hopefully this unrealistic world I am fully engaged in, will be submerged by a happier reality one day!

3. While noone wants to be alone and unloved, I would much prefer to be alone than be in a self destructing relationship which will harm my esteem for at least twice as long as we are/were together. Some people say that all change, (sorry .... yr 11 english .... ) is good change. But in regards to relationships, surely the good change which inevitably follows a bad breakup or hurtful romantic experience, could have occured much earlier if you weren't a damaged soul for months? Surely, being upset and living an insular life for a certain amount of time was not as helpful as if you had avoided the trauma in the first place?!?!

4. You are not alone if you surround yourself with your closest friends. Meet your girlfriends for breakfast. It’s good.

5. If I am to venture into a 'love situation' soon, I feel at present my one relationship non-negotiable is having someone who is supportive of me, and encouraging what is the very best I can be, because that is exactly where my interests would lie towards them. Maybe we just need to be more selective in who we let in to our hearts: I have known some girls who have moved from man to man within weeks (sometimes days) of each other, and I certainly discount the belief that this is a natural, healthy and youthful living style. I think it has an overall degrading quality, and is psychologically confusing.

love should never be an aim… if it happens, it happens, if it doesn’t, it doesn’t. It is too tiring and upsetting in the end, if you invest energy and emotion into a Retard just because you're seeking a life filled with it.

[I may have to edit this when I am feeling better. Sorry if you feel you have become more stupid after reading what I've written. I hope it at least makes some sense.]

I have never debated before.

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Face The Music: A response

Reading this weekends’ Spectrum supplement of the Saturday Sydney Morning Herald, I was struck by the seemingly erroneous juxtaposition of Ruth Ritchie’s delightful musings upon her love of the television show which has not only captured the hearts of all, but also single-handedly revived the cravat as accessory du jour, Masterchef, against John Harris’ essay investigating the progression and place of music journalism.

Ritchie begins her piece by stating “Fans don’t make good critics”, finishing with the assertion that as fans we “simply love too deeply, too blindly, too boringly to be true…(and hence it is a) good thing so few fans type”.

Conversely, Harris contends that as accessibility to music has shifted from communal experiences of the latest Stones LP to late night downloads and ipod playlists “liberated from context”, the style of musical journalism has similarly changed. Gone are the Almost Famous experiences of the journalist living the experience and context of production, replaced by bit-part reviews to satisfy puff box requirements. In this way, the ‘writerly flourishes of yesteryear” have been lost, replaced by market awareness, record company contractual relationship awareness and branding.

In this sense, it seems the passion has largely disappeared from music writing. Is Ruth Ritchie in this case wrong? Is there a place for fans as critics and reporters?

Much has been written of the symbiotic relationship between emerging artists and forums which engage fans in new media. Despite its death as the choice of social networks, Myspace remains an integral and respected method by which both new and established artists can publish works, communicate directly with fans and other musicians, and most importantly, manage their own image with the pages often serving as first point of contact.

Similarly, Twitter has recently become a focus of commercial entities as a means of freely advertising and informing of happenings within the music industry. Locally, record label Ivy League Records has wholeheartedly embraced the concept of the ‘tweet’ update of the activities of their artists, most notably Red Riders, whose recently released album Drown In Colour has benefited significantly from a ground level buzz campaign.

Both of these forums provide a means where fans and music enthusiasts can directly interact with musicians in live time, and this in turn facilitates a community of sharing whereby social networking tools become mediums for review. Album releases, gigs and any artist activity is the subject of appraisal by those most acutely aware of the position the group occupies within the musical sphere.

Contrast this with a comment made by the oft-mentioned Jack Ladder, who criticised the tendency of professional music journalists to attempt to too easily typecast and categorise musicians. In doing so, the writer allows the reader to instantly identify, and henceforth subjectify the music emerging to personal critique within this framework.

Ladder bemoaned this lazy journalism as tantamount to misrepresentation, citing the comparisons made of him as example. Often described as a reimagining of Nick Cave, Ladder sees such a supposed resemblance as a disservice to both Cave and himself which serves only to leave potential fans dissatisfied. Compare this instead to the no doubt well-meaning, intensely passionate however somewhat derivative praise given by one fan for new single The Barber’s Son: “Jack Ladder could make reading the phonebook sound sexual.”


You won’t find passion like that in the pages of Sydney Morning Herald.

Similarly, music editors are quick to latch onto the latest perceived ‘hot thing’ which results in disproportionate coverage of certain artists to the detriment of others. In a listener-driven forum, there is a democratisation of participation. Most recent case in point: the onslaught of media attention devoted to Melbourne band The Temper Trap. The band is undoubtedly highly skilled, and I am admittedly a fan having seen them in their final show before leaving for London and SXSW. However since their inclusion in the BBC list of 2009 bands to watch list, the group have been lauded across every media channel imaginable despite having only released initial single Sweet Disposition at the time. Similarly, recently released Grizzly Bear album Veckatimist has been feted as the must have album of the year. Whilst brilliant, immediately and so blindly placing a work on a pedestal just because every other outlet is doing the same reeks of journalistic apathy.

The major difference which separates the fan from the professional is distance. Distance in two senses: namely distance from the music, and distance from the artist.

Distance from music in that the fan has actively sought out, (somewhat) independently appraised and chosen to include the music within their personal rotation. As Lester Bangs states, “You got to get beneath the surface: If these people turned up on your doorstep, would you invite them in? And if not, why are you listening to their music?”.

The fan makes a personal, long standing commitment to the sound as a partial reflection of their identity. The journalist reviews in order to tick off their to-do list of tasks to qualify for salary. Whilst enjoyment may occur, it is secondary to the professional demand.

Distance from the artist is seen in terms of accessibility. The artist is (and in some ways, should be) physically distant from the fan. The professional has access in an interview capacity, able to directly question and understand motivations.

This is inherently advantageous, as the average writer is left to pick up quotes and fact scraps from professional writing (as clearly evident here!).

Is there a solution? Possibly not… and I have neither the energy nor wordspace to ponder one. This is nearly 1000 words of pondering… quite enough for one day… now off to pad it out with pretty pictures.

Late Night Musings #3401

I like to think I'm quite profound in the dead of night.

Tonight is one such example.

I see multiple bottles of rather horrid cheap red wine (Cold Chisel?) as no impediment to my literary genius.

So I give you this piece of wisdom kiddoes:

There is a limit to how much pot one can smoke, before you become a bit of a fuckwit.

Don't harm the genetic potential of my future progeny.

Ta.

Jack Ladder- Annandale Hotel June 28th 2009

It was with anticipation and expectation that we ambled down to the Annandale Hotel on a rainy Sunday evening, excited to finally check Jack Ladder off our list of ‘must-see’ gigs. Needless to say, we were not disappointed.

After getting sidetracked by salt and pepper calamari, we missed part of the set from warm up band Teeth and Tongue, however I must admit the forced female vocals, fuzzed guitar riffs and overt stylised referencing by lead singer Jess Cornelius was perhaps at odds with the nature of the main performer.

All this was forgotten though, by the conclusion of the second supporting act Kid Sam. A duo from Melbourne, their self-titled debut LP has received recent airtime on FBi, and I was interested to see how the lush sound translated live. Despite the initial appearance of two students ditching high school band practice to jam, cousins Kieren and Kishore Ryan quickly dispel any preconceptions with an intense, lyrical sound far richer than you would expect to be produced by just two musicians.
Kishore’s innovative percussion provides far more than metronomic accompaniment to the lyrical aspects, with creative inclusions of a kitchen pot and wok far from gimmicky adding rigidity and tension to stand-out track We’re Mostly Made of Water. Kieren’s vocals enmeshed with nimble guitar work deliver haunting lyrics across musical silence in Close Your Eyes And It All Goes Black. Their live performance renders this group a step up from other emerging subversive pop groups.

After being so delightfully surprised by the sheer maturity in delivery and earnest performance from Kid Sam, my expectations for Jack Ladder had been subsequently raised.
Long time bandmates Laurence Pike (Pivot) on drums, and bassist Donny Waples (Triosk) are joined by recent addition Kirin Callinan (formerly of Mercy Arms, now with Fashion Launches Rocket Launches). Callinan provides a jaunty lift as his performance appears to channel a pixie-ish Angus Young crossed with some indescribably androgynous, yet quite sexy being (well according to my companion) as he deftly floats across stage, juxtaposing light guitar solos and heavy reliance on effects pedals to breathe new life into Jack Ladder’s songs replacing the honky tonk piano, horns section and violin of the album. Combined, the musicians provide maturity and depth far in excess of mere backing band.
A recent interview with Jack Ladder quoted him expressing his distaste for artists who simply perform their works as heard on the original recording, and it is clear he has carried such a notion into the rehearsal of this tour. Songs have been reworked with the personalities of each performer given freedom to be expressed, resulting in performance rich with attitude alluded to in Ladder’s second album Love Is Gone.

This attitude is accompanied by a subverted meaning in many of the more well-known songs, achieved through a re-think in instrumentation and arrangement. This is seen most clearly in title track Love is Gone. The original recording provides an almost twee uptempo piano and guitar melody which appears to deliberately contradict the resigned lyrics detailing the death of a relationship. Live, the song is reworked as a progressive and melodic requiem setting the tone for a very different Jack Ladder.

Similarly, You Won’t Be Forgotten (When You Leave) maintains its raw instrumentation, with sentimentality set aside with the addition of Callinan’s almost animalistic barking percussive accompanying vocals. Whilst this is for the most part an extremely welcome interpretation, it unfortunately somewhat diminishes the devastating desperation conveyed in the earlier tracks such as Two Clocks. This seemingly saccharine testament to devoted love disguises a sinister alternate meaning, and sadly this duality is lost in its translation from quiet acoustic contemplation to live rock.
Acclaimed favourites are interspersed among new tracks, and the occasional reference to debut recording Not Worth Waiting For. Two new tracks are included as tantalising tastes of the new record to come, with final track Position Vacant infusing Ladder’s typical acerbic wit with deadpan emotional appeal. Ladder’s voice permeates every nook and cranny of the Annandale, and manages to overcome the sometime soulless drone which overcomes many groups attempting to conquer the venue. Collectively, the catalogue provides an introspective glance into the mind of an emerging local songwriter, whose unassuming demeanour and subtle charisma more than charm the pants off every woman in the room.

Jack Ladder tours nationwide throughout July, including a return to Sydney at the Brass Monkey in Cronulla on July 16. We are all now seriously considering a Sutherland Shire roadtrip…

*photo credit: courtesy dsvision.net

Jack Ladder eating a banana.... enjoy kiddoes