N is for Nose (aka an Open Letter to Dave Rennick)

Dear Dave 'Wiley' Rennick:

I feel compelled to pen a little letter to you. As this is a blog, and is hence inherently public, this note takes the form of an open letter.
Some of my readers may not know who you are (I KNOW- shock and horror Dave, shock and horror), so I will give them a background so we are all in a position to fully appreciate my grievances. Dave Rennick is a guitarist and vocalist in Sydney based band Dappled Cities. He also formed indie 'supergroup' The Curse of Company featuring none other than frequently blogged identity Mr Jack Ladder.
Ok, now everyone knows who you are, and we can forget they ever momentarily doubted you. On to my issue...

Dave, why oh WHY do you have to be so gosh darned cute? You have old world good looks accompanied by schoolboy charm. You write beautiful ditties and form fantastic little groups that make delightful filmclips including flags, recorders, tubas and Mr Ladder fondling seaweed. FONDLING SEAWEED!

Dave... what are you doing to me??

Furthermore, you sing delightful falsettos on crazy little keyboards, and dress up in suits adorned with lights. LIGHTS! Daft Punk costumes have nothing on you Wiley.

You talk about hunting buck in Mona Vale "where no one knows your name". Mona Vale is my town! You are speaking to me!

Alas I am not alone in this affliction. In fact, whilst I was taking a shine to your tall, delightfully dimpled Curse of Company counterpart, my good friend LG remained faithful in her love for you. Mine has increased incrementally with each youtube video I clicked.

My fondness of you was moderate, and I was coping with my everyday life..... until tonight. You see, I was supposed to be spending my night reading my Media Law textbook in preparation for my tutorial. I have not done this. Instead, I have spent the night on the ABC Childrens' Television website.
Why you ask? BECAUSE OF YOU! If I fail this subject, I shall blame you Wiley.

(for all those not in the know, THIS is what I am referring to)

Dave..... Wiley..... Rennick..... how can ANYONE resist a man who sings childrens' songs? How can LG and I go about our daily tasks whilst being distracted by such amazing songs as:
N is for Nose
K is for Kazoo
G is for Gong (when you bang it, the sounds goes BONG!)

Oh Dave. Why would you do this to me? I am paralysed by childrens' songs at the age of 22.

Hmm.... what are you going to do about this then Dave? Huh? Well?
I'm just going to sit here, watch youtube and await your call...

midweek mixtape

So I don't really have anything to say today. But apparently being a 'good' blogger means regular updates, and I just don't think my posting pictures of food cuts it as proper journalistic contributions. So I am adopting another form of no-brainer post pattern... a list of genius things that make me happy, and hopefully make you happy too...

1. Bands with awesome names.

These days, its not acceptable to have a boring band name. The indie world goes ga-ga (PUN!) for cutesy plastic fantastic names and I have to admit I share this love. I am far more inclined to do a sneaky elbo.ws download of a band with a sweet name I have never heard before than something dull. So here's a couple I am loving at the moment:

>>> The Phenomenal Handclap Band.
What a brilliant name. How can you not smile? What also makes me smile is the fact that in their myspace top friend list, they have not one, but two people sharing my name with correct spelling and all.

Aside from this self-indulgent appreciation, they are actually jolly sweet and have been getting a bit of play on Triple J as of late. They are currently supporting Friendly Fires in their US tour.... August 12th New York anyone? Meet you there.www.myspace.com/embassyproductions OR phenomenalhandclapband.blogspot.com

>>> We Were Promised Jetpacks.

A four piece from Glasgow (aaaah Scottish bands) popping out some cute little singles which have a happy-go lucky beat, strong guitar melodies and a lead singer who could easily fill in for Brandon Flowers should he ever vacate The Killers.

Check out 'Quiet Little Voices' and 'Roll Up Your Sleeves'

www.myspace.com/wewerepromisedjetpacks

2. Tim Rogers

No, not the Tim Rogers we usually write about here (aka Jack Ladder), but his musical predecessor, and (for now) the more famous musical Tim- frontman of seminal Australian band You Am I.

I have had a long-time love affair with this man, despite him being perhaps twice my age. His face tells a thousand tales of rock and roll debauchery, and he seems to have adopted an affected eccentricity which is ever so endearing.

He was most recently spotted gracing the Splendour in the Grass stage, joined by the *other* Tim Rogers (Jack). Whilst Jack Ladder wore a beautifully fitted jacket and oh so tight black jeans, Rogers rejected the need for formal rock stage attire, instead making the poncho his own. What a stunning combination.

He was also a guest on the ABC's Tuesday Night Bookclub last night, and his faux American narrators' voice coupled with bow-tie made me weak at the knees.

Cheers to old man crushes

3. Meat Free Monday

I eat a vegetarian diet on average five days a week. This is not from any political/social/moral urge, but due to the realisation that my body just seems to work better without meat/gluten/dairy products.
Hence dhal, soups and lentil-based dishes have become my favoured meals. However the recent push for 'Meat Free Monday' as a means of combating climate change means I am a lean, mean green machine without doing anything. Sweet. Go social activism and all that.

4. Photos with messages.

They may be a touch twee at times, but over the years I have saved them on my hard-drive hoping to have an occasion to publish. I have deemed today to be the occasion.

5. This gin:

South Gin is made in New Zealand by the same people who make 42 Below Vodka. Featuring all kinds of deliciousness, it is pretty much the best drink invented. South gin is the way to my heart.

Who needs Nick and Norah?

They can have their infinite playlist. I've learnt Ableton. Well not really... I fiddled and played and eventully made something that somewhat resembles a mixtape of sorts.

Have a listen if you dare. Just download it- it around 37 mins or so. It won't kill your bandwidth limits.

Tracklisting is as follows:

Soulwax- NY Excuse (Justice Mix)//Uffie- Hot Chick (Mr Oizo)//Toto- Africa (Benson mix)//Convaire- Bad Taste//Robots in Disguise- DJ’s Got a Gun//Friendly Fires- Skeleton Boy (Grum Mix)//Aesop Rock- Lucy//The Rapture- No Sex For Ben//Peter Bjorn & John- Shut the Fuck Up Boy//Emil and Friends- Girlfriend on Girlfriend (Phoenix/Michael Jackson)//Yeah Yeah Yeah’s- Zero (N.A.S.A remix)//Jefferson Airplane- White Rabbit//Tame Impala- Half Full Glass of Wine//Rage Against the Machine- Killing in the Name//Jack Ladder- Mother (Bird’s the Word)//The Mighty Boosh- Electro Boy.

Please don't laugh too much!
xx

The Curse of Company... total music video porn

So I think this is kind of sweet. Admittedly it has been floating around for a while now, but has been getting more attention due to the recent activity of prominent members.

Unfortunately referred to an 'indie supergroup', the group Curse of Company comprises members from a variety of Sydney groups:
- Dappled Cities member in alias Wiley Rennick
- Sarah Kelly of redsunband
- Tim Rogers (better known as Jack Ladder)
- Danny Heifetz of 1001 different bands
- Burke Reid of Gerling

The clip is beautifully shot, the costuming featuring subverted military regalia and some stand-out recorder playing courtesy of Tim Rogers add atmosphere to a song which is simply, quite lovely.



Just delightful.

"I'm like so post post-modern you know... I'm like totally innovative"

He was a punk.
She did ballet.
What more can I say?


Yeah, I did. I totally did. I quoted Avril Lavigne. Have you lost all respect for me?

Utterly horrifying, yes?


You may have noticed I like to try and use music as my references for blog titles and inspiration. As I trawled through my playlists searching for something to represent my subject of today, I could find nothing. And then, over the blare of Little Richard’s Tutti Frutti came the strains (and I mean strains) of Miss Lavigne’s insult to music.

However, there really is no simpler, albeit cruder, way to summarily capture my topic of today.

That is, how much do you need to have in common with someone in order for them to be interested in you?

Admittedly I shall not be taking an holistic approach to this issue, rather examining from a purely personal, far more gripey perspective, as to be honest, I am feeling quite self indulgent.

As I wrote previously, my devilish stalking revealed the identity of the ex-girlfriend of the man currently lighting my fire.

My modern day Jim Morrison was previously partnered with a now incredibly successful tour de force in a particular creative industry, working with some of my absolute idols.

She is an industry leader in London and around the world, and represents everything I aspire to (albeit in a different industry).

A little sidenote: Whilst we attempt to maintain some degree of anonymity as to our identities and what-not, it is important to note for the meaning of this post, I have only recently abandoned five years of Law and Politics degrees to seek a more creative future most likely aligned in writing, whilst dabbling in a little musical sideproject. Hence, I have only just began flexing my creative muscle and as such it remains a very weak, vulnerable and self-conscious lonely little muscle.

Anyhoo, given that my swoon-worthy male (let’s call him Jim) is also in a creative industry, these two were no doubt peas in a pod and could feed off each others’ innovative little synapse flares and further each others’ careers.

Which they did, for a time.

If this is the kind of person he appreciates, then do I stand a chance?

Is my future with this individual dependant upon my ability to produce abstract photography, or detail my comfortable upper-middle class existence with such hyperbole and narcissism I present it to be tantamount to a class based concentration camp of convenience?

(Sorry, inherent objection to comfortable little rich kids growing dreadlocks, smoking pot, putting photos of this on facebook and calling themselves revolutionaries because they “like totally, you know, like just *get* the struggle of the Venezuelans”. Ugh)

Extremely amazing advertisement completely encapsulting 'creative hipster' bullshit scene

If so, it seems this little dalliance shall be incredibly short lived should it ever get off the ground.

Is it possible for him to be content with someone whose passions are not so closely aligned? How much of us is what we do?

Then again, I have to ask myself: how much of what I am attracted to in him is aligned to his creative output?

Let’s be honest, haven’t we all had a little crush on a musician due in part to the lyrics they produce… imagining ourselves the subject of the romantic melodic storytelling?

Ah it is a struggle. Perhaps I should take comfort in the age old wisdom doled out to young women by mothers for decades now: If he cannot appreciate you exactly the way you are, he is not worthy of your interest.

Oh Mum, if only it were all that simple.

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.

Music Makes You Lose Control...

I have often criticised fashion blogs for the tendency to blindly reproduce catwalk shots in list format and pass this off as avant guarde.

Anyone empowered with Google power can present a vertical slideshow of the latest Balmain campaign, or this seasons' Balenciaga accessories range.

However.... (massive hypocrisy alert).... I am committing a similar sin, however in musical form.

I am the kind of person who could quite happily be stuck alone on a desert island, provided of course, with sufficient gin and a very well stocked ipod. As I write this, I am cocooned in my study, radio blasting the Triple J Hottest 100 of all time. I am having quite the animated discussion with Richard Kingsmill as to what I think of the chart listing (Hating the high position of Hilltop Hoods... appalling). Strangely enough, the conversation is somewhat one way, as evidently I cannot convey my opinions through my powers of telepathy.

Nonetheless I am thoroughly enjoying my Sunday afternoon, and hence feel inclined to share some of my favourite new tunes in the hope that I can spread the love, and perhaps someone will reciprocate this joy.

So here are my favourite musical tidbits I am currently obsessing over:

Kid Sam

A two-piece band from Melbourne, I was introduced to this group as part of the support for the Jack Ladder tour earlier this month. Quite simply, they are sublime. Their debut self-titled EP has been receiving high (cyber) rotation on my playlist and the songs grow on you with each subsequent listen.

Well worth checking out at myspace.com/kidsam or you can do a sneaky free download of a few tracks at the Triple J unearthed page (I highly recommend 'We're Mostly Made of Water')

Red Riders

A cheeky four piece from Sydney, Red Riders have released their second feature album, Drown in Colour this week. When not digesting the Hottest 100, I have been enjoying little samples of this record, and it really is hard to go past the delightful second single, 'Ordinary'.

Check the film clip- it's positively Mighty Boosh inspired






Finally (for today)...

We Say Bamboulee

A charming three-piece electro-pop group from the Blue Mountains just outside Sydney. This eclectic bunch of little hipsters have emerged through the vibrant Sydney University music community and have been playing regular shows around Sydney for some time now, including support slots for Art vs Science, and soon Philadelphia Grand Jury.

Live, the group has the feel of an electric garage band, where audience members are invited to form an intimate formation of friends. The almost deliberately haphazard approach to shows (including a Popular Penguin propping up a synth in a gig in Glebe not so long ago) is positively charming, and tracks such as 'Funeral Social' are so poppy and infectious, its almost impossible not to smile.

www.myspace.com/wesaybamboulee

Hope this music gives you the same happy times it delivers me... please help me out with some equally delightful tunes

xx