Wednesday, 22 December 2010

A most interviewed year

I hate interviews, hate interviewing people and hate being interviewed by other people so it's a little mysterious how I managed to be interviewed so much in the one year. I like mysteries so to balance out things out I will now solve the mystery of the interviews.*

Interview 1 - Cleo Magazine
At the time I agreed to this interview it seemed too ridiculous to be true. I am not a fan of this kind of magazine, broader  cultural harms and that sort of thing, but in this instance I knew the journalist to be a good one, a woman of integrity with genuine journalistic intent and also the topic was about being independent and happy despite being terribly old. Too weird a chance to pass up, almost like being an anti-girl-mag topic. Take them down from the inside. I think it was the April one, can't really remember.

Interviews 2 - 5 million - Newspapers, Blogs, Websites & Radio
These interviews were all about PAN magazine. It is a truth universally acknowledged that a magazine editor will subject themselves to multiple interviews for the good of the magazine.

It did feel a tad awkward when I had to interview myself but fortunately my friend Spencer came over and pretended to be me, the interviewer me, so that I could answer myself. None of us, not me, Spencer, Spencer pretending to me or the other way around uttered the words 'Willy Wonka' but they did somehow end up being in the title of the interview. You can read it here if you can be bothered...

Interview 5 million and 1 - ABC Radio National
I am terribly fond of the Olympia Milkbar on Parramatta Rd but that alone is insufficient to convince me to go on the radio. I am petrified of going on the radio. Every single time I go slightly odd with fear on the walk there and nearly get run over or walk into large objects like buildings and public sculptures.

There are two reasons I recently agreed to risk being run over and head down to the ABC. The first  was the radio man informing me that the 'V' in the middle of his email address was for his middle name, Vince.  The second reason was that he sounded kind and slightly amused rather than annoyed by my phone call demanding to know if this was in fact a strange prank.

I had planned to say all sorts of things about the importance of the geography of sound, my larger project of map making through public memory and the texture of this city. Instead I blurted my usual mixture of incomprehensible prattle interspersed with statements surprising to both the interviewer and myself which is one of the reasons I have decided to become sophisticated next year but more of that later.

The very best part of the interview was when Radio Man Middle Name of Vince first sat me down in one of those tiny rooms full of strange electrical equipment. He produced several pieces of paper on which he had written responses to my ponderings about why he wanted to interview me. I can now reliably inform you that he is not secretly in love with Vanessa Berry, he does not want to yell in my face, bring back the dinosaurs and is not the illegitimate love child of Milkbar Man. Nor had he heard about my imaginary submarine but he does now want to blow it up with imaginary battle ships.

It is a great shame that he does not live in Newtown. I have the feeling that if he was walking down King St I would not only nod hello but also raise a hand and wave. It is probably best if I did not attempt to speak with him because who the hell  knows what is likely to come out of my mouth, it could be anything from 'Happy Christmas' to 'Your shoes are peculiar why are you wearing them?' or even worse, of course it wouldn't be on purpose but not everybody understands that.

Despite my input I will encourage everybody to listen to the Radio National documentary about the Olympia Milkbar when it goes to air next year. You never know, they might edit me out entirely.

* I am only solving the mystery of why I was interviewed and not the mystery of why I interviewed other people. It is safe to assume I interviewed people when an editor told me to and not for any other reason, except maybe the Quaoub interview. I think I had a small urge to try and share his good music with the world. I've done my part, the rest is up to him really. Can't make people listen to a record that doesn't exist yet.

Monday, 20 December 2010

SLAMMATOWN - Up your charts

There’s a new man soaring up my Tex Perkins chart. His name isBen Corbett from Gentle Ben and His Sensitive Side and the infamous Six Ft Hick. Watch out Tex Perkins Gentle Ben is coming up fast but just to be clear I’m not sure there’s anything gentle about this man at all. 

Continue reading on RHUM... 

Wednesday, 15 December 2010

I knew it

I knew this blog would come in handy one day. I am currently researching myself or more specifically things I have thought about the Olympia Milkbar using the handy dandy search function. My thoughts about the Olympia Milkbar have been wildly inadequate but at least I can read them.

Tomorrow I have to go to the ABC to be interviewed about the Olympia. I am wondering why the ABC man wants to interview me of all people. I suppose it is because I have mentioned it a few times and maybe not everybody does, either that or one of these possible reasons;
- he wants to bring back the dinosaurs and has heard about my plan to do it first so he has concocted an elaborate story in order to meet and murder me,
- he does not like my writing and wants to yell that at my face,
- he is secretly in love with Vanessa Berry and is hoping I can perform the necessary introductions,
- he is the illegitimate love child of Olympia Milkbar Man and wants to talk to people who have met his father,
- he has heard about my imaginary submarine and wants to have a go at sinking it with his imaginary fleet of battleships.

Any one of the above reasons could be the mysterious truth. Only time will tell.

Saturday, 11 December 2010

SLAMMATOWN - So you want to be a temporary contemporary bohemian?

This week’s SLAMMATOWN features the style of document formatting favoured by the Baltimore Police Dept. 

Ever wanted to become a temporary contemporary bohemian? Well now you can. Follow these six easy steps and just like that you're in.

You know what I’m talking about. Those hideously drunk yet intriguingly beautiful boys are riddled with diseases, all kinds. If they don’t ever wash their jeans then how much attention do you think they’re paying to what’s running around in their bloodstream? Double bag it ladies, double bag it. 

Thursday, 9 December 2010

Stick with the union?

It was interesting to note that the Australian Society of Authors was not a signatory on the recent open letter to Julia Gillard re Julian Assange.

If I'm wrong I'm happy to be corrected but if in fact the ASA was not a signatory then I want to know why  the fuck not.

In the past the ASA has been the go to place for help, just like a union, but these days I'm not sure they're really doing anything at all over there apart from offering mentorships and professional development courses. This is not the fault of the hard working staff who spend their days grinding out office tasks just like most everyone else.

Click here to read the admirable open letter... 

Wednesday, 8 December 2010

After The Fall

After The Fall we all stood about in the laneway and on the street being vaguely herded about like kittens. I hate that part of things, when it's clear that there are at least a few people who want to sit down together and have a drink or two but nobody knows where to go. It was a little like that last night, until Abdullah's friend Manometer declared that he owned a bar. He said it wasn't open on a Tuesday night but he'd open up just for us.

The bar was high on a hill, at the top of a skyscraper. I suppose it was a penthouse though I am unsure if that term is strictly residential. A gaggle of us walked seven city blocks from The Metro down through China Town and towards the water. Spencer became temporarily lost after he stopped to photograph Christmas lights but in the end all of us crammed into one of those incredibly fast marble-clad lifts. I clutched the rail as we soared skywards, I don't trust those infernal stair-replacement machines. There's something not quite right about the whole idea.

Once we were inside it soon became clear that we were in for one hell of an evening. Free drinks, a cavernous empty bar, illegal indoor smoking of cigarettes and no one to enforce the wearing of shoes. If there's one thing that makes me happy it's taking off my shoes in a bar with free drinks.

Towards the end of the evening, after Spencer and I admirably demonstrated the full range of our best dance moves, I invented a new dance called The Soggy Noodle, a mystery began to develop. Unfortunately the mystery remains unsolved, much like my headache and my sincere fatigue.

In other news, there is nothing to report, unless you count the time I got my head stuck in a bucket of water for ten seconds, Insensible Pie Day on The Peach Deck, the ongoing mystery of the sunflower seed thief and my newfound desire to become a Baltimore gangsta.


The Fall in 2010 are a curious beast. Mark E. Smith looks like a foreshortened peacock but the rhythm section is made up of two meatheads, all forearms and shaved heads. The drummer played elbows up like he was trying to murder a set of metal garbage cans but the guitarist wouldn’t have looked out of place in Oasis, the visible sweat on him giving away just how much stress he was under in this band.

Continue reading on RHUM...