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The bastards were all wearing trousers
And now from the interesting world of marching bands comes a Dale Slamma exclusive.
Don’t bother sending me flowers, I am always going to love marching bands more than I love you and I don’t care who knows about it. If there’s one day of the year it is good to be a fan of marching bands it is ANZAC Day. The city goes mad with them, traffic is stopped, old men rock up in suits and nannas drink beer in the gutter. I declare it to be the best day of the year.
Syncopated drumbeats echo off the skyscrapers and everybody is drunk from sunrise. All ordinary business is suspended and the city points itself at the parade like furniture around a television. If there’s something better than rock it’s got to be marching bands. If you ever wondered why music was harnessed as a weapon of war then you’ve never seen a band on parade.
Continue reading....
Don’t bother sending me flowers, I am always going to love marching bands more than I love you and I don’t care who knows about it. If there’s one day of the year it is good to be a fan of marching bands it is ANZAC Day. The city goes mad with them, traffic is stopped, old men rock up in suits and nannas drink beer in the gutter. I declare it to be the best day of the year.
Syncopated drumbeats echo off the skyscrapers and everybody is drunk from sunrise. All ordinary business is suspended and the city points itself at the parade like furniture around a television. If there’s something better than rock it’s got to be marching bands. If you ever wondered why music was harnessed as a weapon of war then you’ve never seen a band on parade.
Continue reading....
Um, please
I'd definitely be doing this if I was any kind of artist, even the bad kind.
Donate an artwork to PAN magazine!
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Donate an artwork to PAN magazine!
To donate an Artwork to PAN magazine make us a mind-blowing painting, drawing or sculpture. We’ll
love you for it, I promise... All donated works will be exhibited at PAN magazine’s fundraiser on the 26th of June at The Red Rattler and sold to raise funds to help with printing costs of issue #1.
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Kate is my cool thing of the day
Not only has she mastered the art of Science she has also discovered a secondary use for cows.
My own Siamese twin
What if you only get five lit points of grief or regret? One home, one child, one partner, one horse, one friend. What if the two day contents of your head get dramatised in hospital form on a Tuesday night?
I've been scaring myself with imaginary knives. Two days ago we were sitting in the cafe when he said, 'maybe you don't want to write those kind of things'. I suppose it was a candid moment, one friend asking another to be a little careful with published thoughts but I jumped straight to what wasn't happening, straight to the part where I had to choose between a friend and words.
One good Peachette taped a hospital drama for me to watch on my late return. I sat down with one of those bowls of muesli and pressed play. Unfolding in blue scrubs was the two day contents of my head. Surgeons asking each other if they had to choose between surgery and love.
I have lost track of my point because it is contradictory. My imaginary knives would cut out any part that would say do not write. I do not care if the writing is good, if it is a stupid blog post, a contractual obligation album review, a dismally worded review or one story that stacks higher than the rest of my existence. I do not believe in the death of the author, those words are all mine and I will have them. But my knives are imaginary and my feet would walk you in no other direction than towards a friend.
I've been scaring myself with imaginary knives. Two days ago we were sitting in the cafe when he said, 'maybe you don't want to write those kind of things'. I suppose it was a candid moment, one friend asking another to be a little careful with published thoughts but I jumped straight to what wasn't happening, straight to the part where I had to choose between a friend and words.
One good Peachette taped a hospital drama for me to watch on my late return. I sat down with one of those bowls of muesli and pressed play. Unfolding in blue scrubs was the two day contents of my head. Surgeons asking each other if they had to choose between surgery and love.
I have lost track of my point because it is contradictory. My imaginary knives would cut out any part that would say do not write. I do not care if the writing is good, if it is a stupid blog post, a contractual obligation album review, a dismally worded review or one story that stacks higher than the rest of my existence. I do not believe in the death of the author, those words are all mine and I will have them. But my knives are imaginary and my feet would walk you in no other direction than towards a friend.
The dramatic failure of my newspaper remedy came as something of a shock
He is a tall problem with teeth and hands but he conducts himself with grace.
The John Entwistle School of Standing Very Still
Once upon a time I was being driven across town in some guy's van, a drunk drummer was rolling around in the back behind a cage, like a dog. He hit the side of the van with a thump but I didn't care, I was having an idea. Tonight my idea came to fruition. Introducing my very own band The John Entwistle School of Standing Very Still. There are two of us in this band, me and Leah Keramea from The Walk On By, we both play drums because that's the whole idea. We reinterpret rock classics on only drums. Welcome to the world of 'difficult musics'.
Not yet an Antarctic submarine captain
I'm working on something over here. Maybe go listen to this instead of reading what I've got to say.
A definite line in the sand
I have a definite streak of the ridiculous running through me. I’m prone to bouts joyful uncoordinated dancing in public places, like supermarkets or cafes, I enjoy the occasional listen to Van Halen but I 'm drawing the line at Har Mar Superstar.
Har Mar Superstar used to vaguely amusing and even a little bit good, in his own special way, but not this time. Dark Touches is a shambolic mess of a pastiche. It wanders through strange territory from tasteless dance music for the masses to early Jackson Five with just a touch of Gloria Estefan.
Spencer once saw Har Mar Superstar have a tantrum and storm off stage, in his underpants. Spencer says it was hilarious and well worth watching but if you take a moment to think about it it’s really not ideal when the best thing about a show is watching the artist leave the stage earlier than he should.
Continue reading...
Har Mar Superstar used to vaguely amusing and even a little bit good, in his own special way, but not this time. Dark Touches is a shambolic mess of a pastiche. It wanders through strange territory from tasteless dance music for the masses to early Jackson Five with just a touch of Gloria Estefan.
Spencer once saw Har Mar Superstar have a tantrum and storm off stage, in his underpants. Spencer says it was hilarious and well worth watching but if you take a moment to think about it it’s really not ideal when the best thing about a show is watching the artist leave the stage earlier than he should.
Continue reading...
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