Wednesday, August 31, 2011


Tuesday, August 30, 2011

A Nod of Affirmation...


The August tour is over. Touring with Tales in Space, The Sunny Days and Tin Can Radio was a blast. We're back to regular life with a few shows around Adelaide and then hopefully we'll be back out on the road a bit later in the year.

You all read about the shit kick that Sydney was and how much of a nightmare it was getting up for THAT flight. Well we found someone on the last night of the tour, in Melbourne, who had obviously had that nightmare for an entire evening, culminating in something none of us ever expected to see.

I'll run you through the lead up;

After starting our night with some cheap but not that delicious meals (we know when you use tip-top burger buns and kraft singles cheese, it doesn't hurt to splash out on a lepinja and maybe some swiss cheese? Fuck you), we then headed off to the venue and bumped into our fine tour buddies "Tales in Space" from Sydney. We discussed the finer points of synth stage moves and shit burgers.

Fast forward a few hours and we'd all consumed hundreds of beers. We caught up with Adelaide "besties" (fuck off) The Daylight Braves. They were at the tail end of their tour promoting their latest single "Summer at Last". We spent more time downing more beers at a premium price.

On our way home, collectively stumbling along, we noticed a shape further down the road holding onto something. As we kept walking the shape appeared to be a guy, holding onto a pole, hanging his arse over the path. We walked past him until Wolf did the sums and called out "Excuse me mate.......*pause*.....*deep breath*.....but are you taking a shit?"

The guy then looks at us and gives us a simple nod.

He then proceeds with his task at hand and then falls on the ground. In his own shit.

Tour over.

Alex Rajkowski

If you havnt already Smashed our new tune "Blue Toes", Click HERE for a free download.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Join the Nunnery

This is a quote I like…

I fear not the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks once, but I fear the man who has practiced one kick 10,000 times.
-Bruce Lee

What a ledge….

It is actually quite profound, but It may or may not apply to the following blog/s

As I embark on an intended “dry” weekend (no guarantees) I would like to outline some of the reasons why the idea is, well…..not worth it.

1. You know when you’re drunk, and so is every other sack at the pub you attend every weekend – and you have that 3am conversation with some fiend who talks too close? Like, he’s on his damn tippy-toes, with his head cocked towards his right shoulder, so that he can burp his fucking bourbon-tosis away to his right while he tries to get his shit point across to you – which you have already forgotten? And, and…and he bobs a little higher on the balls of his feet every now and then for the odd Punchline, like Brent? This guy is SO much more offensive and irritating when your sober-as-a-judge, trying to kindly put the pieces together of his epic last-weekend bar fight story - which is grossly over exaggerated, to the point where you’re now egging him on to “tell us more” without him realizing you think he is an enormous TWAT. For me this is the number one reason to just drink – aimlessly.

2. The Last time I had a weekend without a drop was when I had my wisdom teeth removed two and a half years ago, so it took physical trauma to pull the plug for a weekend last time I faced such adversity. The Second reason why it blows so badly is when you don’t drink….sorry, when you don’t binge – you become this reclusive weirdo around chicks? This is applicable to me anyway. Many of my friends/band-mates are in the same boat. You become this generic bender – who has that staple conversation with everyone until one of the two of you are SO bored/pissed off, that you do an Alex Cameron – and just bail on the conversation altogether. Mid sentence if need be. Also, while you doing it, you KNOW your doing it. Having that cringe-town friendly chin-wag. If you have held out this long on a sober weekend – now you’re bonging jager.

3. Just don’t be sober.

This blog is dedicated to Alex Minicozzi. Why? Click Here

Aaaaaand joke for the Day? Courtesy of Wolfgang…
Why did the sperm cross the road?
Because you put on the wrong socks today….


Monday, August 15, 2011

Friday nights liver towelling (slash gig) in Syndey was of such an impressive magnitude – I figured it needs to be documented.

Friday August 12

1:30am – Still at the Governor Hindmarsh after the Children Collide gig... notable “check-ins” include Woody Annison, Johnny McKay, Simon and Shane (DZ Deathrays), and all but one of the Shiny Brights. Also - each and every member of Hunting Grounds are available right now, via the same time....on six different cellular telephones.....Yeah, its getting pretty OSLO-circa-a-month-ago right now....people are smoking wherever they want, and people that didn’t already know Woody are immediately shocked and appalled by being pigeon-holed as “Racist”, before having actually met the guy. Fuck being a wiener at Woody’s school, in South London, in the eighties.....

2:00am – Red Wine glasses brimmed with Smirnoff and a DASH of red bull are being issued amongst the remaining team. I can’t stress “Dash” enough either, each sip was like a Chuck Norris knee to the bollocks. Yet the beverages on offer are consumed only in a boat race fashion – a notion that was forcefully peer-pressured towards anyone in ear-shot - Security guards and performers alike.

It’s at about this point that I notice the time, curse maliciously in rego’s ear and realise I’m due at work six hours. At this juncture I exit the premises. Later I catch wind of certain members of The Shiny Brights having to blow off some steam, by walking home from Hindmarsh – leaving little presents from within along the an Easter-egg hunt.

7:45am – Buns’s alarm sounds for work. He smashes his alarm clock several times with a nearby shoe, before realising the alarm was actually set on his phone, not his bedside alarm clock. His phone is on the nearby bathroom floor. Cheers.

9:00am: Buns punches himself in the testies FIFTY times...I mean “goes to work”.

1:05pm: Le Shiny Brights board a plane to SYDNEY.

4:00pm: Sound check/ load-in at the Gaelic followed by the prompt purchase of overpriced beer. In Bulk.

5:00 pm: Beers/filthy jokes/anti-histamines at Karen’s.

7:00pm: The banta moves to The Strawberry Hills Hotel, for French fries/filthy jokes/beer

8:30pm: The Sunny Days/RadioStar/no-one-is-really-sure open at the Gaelic

9:20 pm: TSB perform as a Banjo quintet with a Bolivian pipes player. They are well received.

10:00pm: Chris “Bondi-vet” Plummer manages 4 little piggy’s on his back simultaneously – much to the amazement of two Peruvian back-packers, and nearby chiropractors.

10:15pm: Tales in Space from Syndey perform, to a capacity audience and a lighting show that is not for the feint hearted. If I was a chic – I’d have my titties out at this point. I did anyway.

11:15:pm The Cairos from Brizzzvegas (fuck off anyone who has EVER used that term seriously) take the stage to a chorus of extremely drunk scenesters/babes/Adelaide bands....

12:30am: Proceedings move to Oxford Arts Factory.

1:00am: People are that sort of drunk where they pretend to hump attractive chics that squeeze past while they aren’t looking. I am guilty of this.

2:00am: Headcount?
Clancy Bennett - present
Buns - .......yeah...ish
Chris- sort of
Rego – maybe by a thread
Paul – not really present
The Sunny Days/RadioStar/not sure – ...heeeere.


2:30am: Looking around, clearly all previous inhibitions have gone out the window, most people are attempting their CLEAN Usher moves – genuinely convinced that they are nailing them. Most of us have tangoed with other anonymous female inebriates – to no avail, for obvious reasons.

3:00am: people are talking reeeeeaaal slow now. Sentences riddled with hiccups. hugging – everywhere. Rego is sleeping on his feet, on the dance floor, with a beer. Numbers are thinning in the venue...

4:00am: Hungry Jacks, Oxford Street.
Chris has already “claimed” his second unwarranted burger , just doing casual laps back-and-forth from the counter, claiming he is waiting on assorted menu items. .......Now he is bellowing at the top of his lungs – we are still racking our brains as to why?? (An upcoming blog video will explain this better)


5:00am: Arrive at Karrots criiiib. Me and Chris sleep in one another’s arms, on the floor. Rego takes ownership of the couch. All fully clothed, with food.

6:00am: Lights out.

8:30am: Alarm. Shit. Fuck. Alarm. Clothes? Belongings? Dignity? Health? Alarm. Vom. Cab. Airport. Flight. Shit. Fuck. Bollocks. Sleep.

Lengthy read huh? Sucked in.


Tuesday, August 9, 2011


Handsome blog readers,

It is with great pleasure, two bananas, a beret and a pleasing posture that I salute the availability of our new single "BLUE TOES". The song, and two others were recorded and produced at Red Door studios in Collingwood by friend and industry veteran Paul "WOODY" Annison. After perspicacious pre-production and a week in the sprawling metro-sexuality of Red Door's egg chairs and collectable vending machines - we came out with three singles that we are extremely proud of. The guidance and knowledge of Woody and engineer Tyson worked wonders with the new brand of music we were writing - and hoping to conquer.

So while your scratching your crotch, trying to think of your next "witty" comment on your mates' girlfriend's iPhone-retro-application-photo of your Saturday night borry storm - Jump onto triple J unearthed and download the new tune, and have a good old fashion listening session. If you do then maybe a genie will saunter out of your speakers? and grant you three wishes? Yeah, it is ridiculous - but you will never know if you don't listen to it? and THAT my friends.....IS true. Up for it?

Some call me a philosopher, or..a..a pioneer. But you can just call me BUNS Wilson.

Always a pleasure.


And as per usual, and for your ultimate convenience. Here are some visual aids.

WOODY at RED DOOR Studios, Melbourne

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Kodak Moments

This week we had our first shiny photo shoot in over a year. Heading out from the wilderness with our new single this month, we thought the band's happy snaps might need a little bit of a makeover. Now you might think this is a pretty simple task. Get five guys get them all to look away from the camera and look very disinterested. Add them all pretending as if they don't even care that some mug is taking their photo, with matching leather jackets. You know the ones, if not i've posted an example below. And don't get me wrong we've done this too!

This time we wanted something a little bit different. When it comes to this side of the band i have about as much creativity as a Nickelback single so a lot of the genius was left to come from C 'the Plums' Plummer. As you will see in the next couple of weeks when they're all finished off, we've gone for some weird portrait style shots. Imagine this. One man, one frame, one hand. Now to create the vision of 'the Plums' on my pentax five megapixel would have been possible, but let's be honest they would've looked shit.

So we figured we needed a PRO. That's why the lovely snaps have been taken by our good friend Michael Clements (shameless promotion of his site here Michael is English... need i say more he's a top fellow with a delightful eye for how to capture the most delicate moment. Like when a leaf floats alone across a lake, or a plastic bag fighting in the wind. We on the other hand aren't so delicate. The entire shoot Alex "don't call me polish" Rajkowski was cracking suprisingly funny puns right at the pivotal moments of concentration. Another issue is that michael doesn't have any furniture in in house, he says it's because he just moved in, but can you trust the English, i don't think so. This meant five guys standing for two and half hours in a dimly lit room as another man took their photo. Just sounds creepy if you ask me.

So while our photos won't included wolf's leather underpants or one of chris' countless sweaters, they will at least be better than this....




Monday, August 1, 2011

And So it Begins....


Our tour for our new single "Blue Toes" kicks off this week. We're hitting the road with Radio Star, Tin Can Radio and Tales in Space, all premium bands. This means we'll be spending countless nights spooning together. Most likely I'll be shacking up with Buns "duckarse" Wilson. James will claim a bed to himself because he needs all that room.
Chris will no doubt go swimming again in his attempt to better his "swim in every shitty river ever" record (his landmark achievement so far is The Thames in London….after 35 ciders).

Wolfgang will probably hang his leather underpants that he secretly sleeps in from an unsuspecting balcony much to the amazment of passers by. He still maintains that the "tan lines" inside have always been there.

We're pumped for this tour as it means we're back on the road playing new songs that we're really happy about. If I could convert my happiness about these songs it would be the equivelant of a mango…the happiest of fruits, people love mangos, if they don't, they're not worth knowing.

Come out to some shows instead of watching Masterchef and Highway Patrol.