From: owner-fegmaniax-digest@smoe.org (fegmaniax-digest) To: fegmaniax-digest@smoe.org Subject: fegmaniax-digest V15 #275 Reply-To: fegmaniax@smoe.org Sender: owner-fegmaniax-digest@smoe.org Errors-To: owner-fegmaniax-digest@smoe.org Precedence: bulk fegmaniax-digest Thursday, November 16 2006 Volume 15 : Number 275 Today's Subjects: ----------------- re: overgrown gapless blinking ["ken ostrander" ] Re: 9/11 and such [Sebastian Hagedorn ] Re:overgrown excuses ( typography and trench foot ) [great white shark ] Newsom [The Great Quail ] Re: Colin Newman interview [Sebastian Hagedorn ] Re: Cleveland Nov 12 2006 Setlist [FSThomas ] Re: Cleveland Nov 12 2006 Setlist [Tom Clark ] Re: Cleveland Nov 12 2006 Setlist ["Bri N" Subject: re: overgrown gapless blinking speed of things:>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I think I once had it parsed as being about mother, wife, daughter, a sort of catalog of how damned fast life goes by as measured by the formative women in the singer's life.<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< that works. "you held my hand when i was crying" seems more like a mother figure which seques with a bee allergy into "i threw some dirt onto your coffin". the "kissed you by the river" / "grew horns and found another" stanza makes sense as a lover / wife. "all in the terror of the moment that pounces as it open swings" is very powerful. carpe diem. there is only one moment and it is now. too often we focus on the past or the future and miss out on what's right in front of us as time goes by. opportunity swings open and hits us in the face. each moment brings its own terror with the multitude of choices made available: "a line of dots illuminated" >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> > the consensus on the archives is that artist rosalind kunath is her mother; > but the jury is still out on whether or not she and robyn were married. via "The back cover photography and collage was by Rosalind Kunath who was married to Robyn Hitchcock."<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< that's the only place i found where this information appears; so i'm not sure if that clears it up. >>>> I sure wish I were >> Gonzo, but right now, I'm feeling more like Statler and Waldorf. > >Whoa ... feglist as Muppets. Could this become a thread, please?<<<<<<<<<<<<<< i identify with kermit due to the greenness and the fact that i've been playing 'rainbow connection' for my daughter on a daily basis. she tries to take the guitar out of its case and that's the signal that she wants to hear it. i play the opening chords and she sits expectantly and claps when i'm done: "brattica!" (her approximation of "bravisimo"). sometimes i feel like scooter. > Setting the gap between songs to 'none' in the Burning preferences > will get you a gapless CD, provided iTunes has determined the album > should be gapless. <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< i think i'm going to go back to making mix tapes. >> So, okay, who *didn't* spend all of yesterday listening to Ys?<<<<<<<< just downloaded it tonight; but it has been playing nonstop. only five downloads. that is a bargain for me. it comes out to about two cents a minute. the bjork comparison holds true for me. >>>>>>>Now if someone could just finally recommend the one song that will finally, finally, make me kind of like King Crimson as a band even half as much as I like its members' contributions to the work of others, we all will have learned something very special today.<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< it's gotta be 'elephant talk'. ken "top posting juju" the kenster sweat pours down his face from the hot lights and he focuses intensely on the fingering, eyelids fluttering as if to distract him from the expectant gazes of flatulant fegomaniacs. he pretends not to notice someone's eyes rolling as he transitions (seemlessly) into a medley of sound and vision imagining (correctly) that many people haven't heard it even once. the speed of things makes for a blurry whirlwind tour punctuated by the pain that leaves him boogie chillin like john lee hooker. he tells them about his drugs. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Get FREE company branded e-mail accounts and a Web site from Microsoft Office Live ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 16 Nov 2006 09:21:30 +0100 From: Sebastian Hagedorn Subject: Re: gapless - --On 16. November 2006 02:02:58 +0000 2and2makes5@comcast.net wrote: > Usually I find out about great new bands from this list, but I don't > remember Art Brut coming up before--heard the moving to LA song on the > radio and an interview with the band and ended sitting in the car > listening till the damn host got around to identifying them. Eb, Rex and I mentioned them a while back. I like them a lot, but I find it hard these days to spend much time on any one band, CD etc. My current MO is to listen to stuff once, maybe twice and then again in preparation for upcoming shows. Now upcoming: Babyshambles (the date has already been changed twice, so who knows?) and Yo La Tengo. I'm particularly looking forward to the latter. Another recent show were the Lemonheads. I can't remember the new eponymous CD getting any discussion here. It's growing on me. The show was sold out, but the place wasn't very large to begin with. I was very impressed by the new backing band. A friend of mine knows them from the Descendents, who I have yet to discover. Karl Alvarez, the bass player, was fantastic. Evan Dando played an acoustic set in the middle, much to my surprise. I suppose that's his love of Gram Parsons showing. I got OT about a week ago (that's in physical form). It's by far my favorite RH in recent memory, though it's not the kind of music I'm currently really into. But I just love the jangly goodness of Underground Sun. - -- b. Sebastian Hagedorn b Hagedorn@spinfo.uni-koeln.de b' http://www.uni-koeln.de/~a0620/ ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 16 Nov 2006 09:54:51 +0100 From: Sebastian Hagedorn Subject: Re: 9/11 and such - --On 15. November 2006 19:51:26 -0800 Spotted Eagle Ray wrote: > Now if someone could just finally recommend the one song that will > finally, finally, make me kind of like King Crimson as a band even half > as much as I like its members' contributions to the work of others, we > all will have learned something very special today. Al I know is their first one, but I was quite (pleasantly) surprised to hear the song (In the Court of the Crimson King) in the new movie "Children Of Men". Not an obvious choice, I would think. The movie was noteworthy (IMHO much more so than Borat, which I saw right before), but not without its share of problems. The atmosphere the film exudes makes it worth its while, as it is the most convincing post-apocalyptic nightmare I can remember. OTOH the actual story isn't as convincing ... - -- b. Sebastian Hagedorn b Hagedorn@spinfo.uni-koeln.de b' http://www.uni-koeln.de/~a0620/ ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 16 Nov 2006 17:51:58 +1030 From: great white shark Subject: Re:overgrown excuses ( typography and trench foot ) the Quail meeped thusly > And finally, the proper spellings are "Cthulhu," "Nyarlathotep," and > "Dagon." I just thought I'd mention that before you have to explain > your > errors to a higher authority. Don't worry Quaily, down here in the Pacific trench ,where the elder gods quibble and gibber mindlessly whilst watching endless re-runs of Baywatch and Survivor- no one worries about punctuation, spelling or even dental hygiene- unlike you , the gods have lightened up ! . Besides I was using Australian english and we leave out every other t and l out of deliberate perversity ! Anyway down here in the depths I don't have easy access to my copies of Lovecraft to refer to the correct US spelling as the damp plays hell with the pages and they are rendered indecipherable within minutes - plus, have you ever tried typing with fins, remember I am a frigging shark ! BTW Quail- Shame that you seem to have lost your sense of humor, I think you are taking things far too personally , nowadays whenever I post I always have my virtual tongue planted firmly in my virtual cheek,( except when I write to john howard or gwshrub ) I wasn't being serious about your decline - or was I ? Come visit the trench sometime and chill out bub , I know where you can rent a cheap bathyscaphe by the hour . glub glub , going down into the abyss once more ....... der kommander On Nov 16, 2006, at 8:16 AM, fegmaniax-digest wrote: ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 16 Nov 2006 06:48:30 -0800 From: "Bri N" Subject: Cleveland Nov 12 2006 Setlist Cleveland, OhioBeachland BallroomNovember 12th 2006 Scar of VenusAcid BirdQueen of EyesAdventure Rocket ShipOle' TarantulaPropellor TimeIf You Were a PriestChinese BonesVibratingTelevisionThe Authority BoxJewels for SophiaCreeped OutMadonna of the WaspsA Man's Gotta Know His Limitations, BriggsI Wanna Destroy YouRadio Storm Encores:Aw Shit Man (Minus 5)Coffee, Booze, & Cigarettes (Minus 5)The Ballad of John & Yoko (Beatles)Gigolo Aunt (Syd Barrett)Open the Door, Homer (Dylan) ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 16 Nov 2006 10:23:30 -0500 From: The Great Quail Subject: Newsom Julie writes, > Oh me too! I've been hungry for more complicated music and she is so nice and > weird!! I see this as an album that I won't burn out on in a week. I liked her first album well enough -- but I was totally surprised by this one. Especially the first song, that sequence about meteors is just fantastic. She's a very gifted songwriter, I think.... > I'm going to see her in December for the first time and I'm very excited! > Anyone ever see her play live? No, sadly, I missed her! But here, from the NYT: Music Review | 'Joanna Newsom' A Singer Brings Her Harp and Lots and Lots to Say By BEN RATLIFF Published: November 15, 2006 I hope Joanna Newsom didn9t make 3Ys,2 her new record of epic-length songs with orchestral arrangements written by Van Dyke Parks, because she felt she wasn9t being taken seriously. Ms. Newsom, a singer-songwriter whose instrument is the harp, has set her own bar rather high from the start. But at her best, the bar doesn9t exist. Seriousness radiates from her; she doesn9t have to do much to prove it. On Monday night at Webster Hall, she played all of her new album, surrounded by five musicians who replicated those arrangements with a folkier sound: accordion guitar, banjo and bouzouki instead of violins, violas, cellos and woodwinds. It felt a little like a marathon. 3Ys2 (pronounced EEZ and released this week by Drag City) is a much sadder record than her first album, 3The Milk-Eyed Mender.2 The new release, distantly concerned with loss and regeneration, revels in minor keys, and its songs tend to stay much longer in single musical units, short cycles of chords, as the lyrics flow forth. It9s one long-ball after another, as if Bob Dylan had made a whole record out of songs like 3It9s Alright Ma (I9m Only Bleeding).2 Still, there9s something about hearing her perform songs like 3Only Skin2 199 lines of poetry entirely from memory. There9s something to watching her play 3Sawdust & Diamonds,2 10 unaccompanied minutes long and full of rigorous, rhythmic harp arpeggios. 3Ys2 is an exercise in sustaining melody through extended form, but between its downcast tone and its emphasis on poetry, it loses some of the rhythmic and melodic power that Ms. Newsom can develop in a four-minute song. The new songs had their moments as when 4/4 suddenly shifted into 6/8 during 3Emily2 but none delivered the power of her earlier songs like 3The Book of Right-On,2 in which Ms. Newsom built a powerfully percussive, syncopated vamp all by herself. (She played that song as an encore; this was a show in which an encore was needed as relief.) Once a trebly bark that left a metallic taste in your mouth, her voice has grown smoother, more centered: a high-grade Olive Oyl. On Monday she packed all her nails-on-chalkboard potential into opening-stanza yelps, usually on the word 3and.2 She makes conjunctions count: words are that important to her. Ms. Newsom manages to write word-conscious lyrics that inhabit neither the romantic refuge of image, image, image, nor the young songwriter9s crutch of malice and sarcasm. Her words can sound antiquated, but not because she is trying to construct an antiquated persona. She has graduated from sticking 3catenaries,2 3rheum2 and 3accrue2 into her songs, like cloves in a ham, to a new balance between rhetoric and vocabulary. Her voice knows it too. That was clear on Monday, when she sang lyrics like: And, Emily, I saw you last night by the river. I dreamed you were skipping little stones across the surface of the water Frowning at the angle where they were lost, and slipped under forever, In a mud-cloud, mica-spangled, like the sky9d been breathing on a mirror At such moments she sounded surest, most in command. ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 16 Nov 2006 16:39:09 +0100 From: Sebastian Hagedorn Subject: Re: Colin Newman interview - --On 14. November 2006 20:44:02 -0600 2fs wrote: > Here's a great recent interview with Colin Newman by Fred Mills: > > http://www.stompandstammer.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id= > 512&Itemid=51&limit=1&limitstart=0 Interesting that they never considered themselves a punk band. Actually Pink Flag is one of the few records that my punky friend and I could agree upon from the start. The track off the album is also the only one I knew on her recent playlist: ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 16 Nov 2006 09:50:59 -0600 From: 2fs Subject: Re: Cleveland Nov 12 2006 Setlist And now, the compact version: On 11/16/06, Bri N wrote: > > > ClvlndOhBchlndBllrmNvmbr1206ScroVnsAcdBrdQnoEysAdvntrRcktShpOlTrntlPrpllrTmIfuWraPrst ChnsBnsVbrtngTlvsnThAthrtBxJwlsfrSphCrpdOtMdnnothWspsMn'sGttKnwHsLmttnsBrggs WnnDstryuRdStrmEncrs:AwShtMn(Mns5)Cff,Bz,&Cgrtts(Mns5)ThBlldJn&Yk(Btls)GglAnt(SdBrrtt)OpnthDrHmr(Dln) - -- ff ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 16 Nov 2006 11:00:03 -0500 From: FSThomas Subject: Re: Cleveland Nov 12 2006 Setlist 2fs wrote: > And now, the compact version: > > On 11/16/06, Bri N wrote: >> >> ClvlndOhBchlndBllrmNvmbr1206ScroVnsAcdBrdQnoEysAdvntrRcktShpOlTrntlPrpllrTmIfuWraPrst > > ChnsBnsVbrtngTlvsnThAthrtBxJwlsfrSphCrpdOtMdnnothWspsMn'sGttKnwHsLmttnsBrggs > WnnDstryuRdStrmEncrs:AwShtMn(Mns5)Cff,Bz,&Cgrtts(Mns5)ThBlldJn&Yk(Btls)GglAnt(SdBrrtt)OpnthDrHmr(Dln) Those whacky Welsh! ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 16 Nov 2006 08:51:28 -0800 From: Tom Clark Subject: Re: Cleveland Nov 12 2006 Setlist On Nov 16, 2006, at 8:00 AM, FSThomas wrote: > 2fs wrote: >> And now, the compact version: >> >> On 11/16/06, Bri N wrote: >>> >>> ClvlndOhBchlndBllrmNvmbr1206ScroVnsAcdBrdQnoEysAdvntrRcktShpOlTrntlP >>> rpllrTmIfuWraPrst >> >> >> ChnsBnsVbrtngTlvsnThAthrtBxJwlsfrSphCrpdOtMdnnothWspsMn'sGttKnwHsLmtt >> nsBrggs >> WnnDstryuRdStrmEncrs:AwShtMn(Mns5)Cff,Bz,&Cgrtts(Mns5)ThBlldJn&Yk >> (Btls)GglAnt(SdBrrtt)OpnthDrHmr(Dln) > > Those whacky Welsh! They really do excel! The RH version: CB V TV AB JfS CoAG MotW B IWDY RS Shit CCB J&Y GA OtDH - -tc ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 16 Nov 2006 08:53:00 -0800 From: "Bri N" Subject: Re: Cleveland Nov 12 2006 Setlist dunno why my emails are doing that! Hope this is better: Scar of Venus Acid Bird Queen of Eyes Adventure Rocket Ship Ole' Tarantula Propellor Time If You Were a Priest Chinese Bones Vibrating Television The Authority Box Jewels for Sophia Creeped Out Madonna of the Wasps A Man's Gotta Know His Limitations, Briggs I Wanna Destroy You Radio Storm Encores: Aw Shit Man (Minus 5) Coffee, Booze, & Cigarettes (Minus 5) The Ballad of John & Yoko Gigolo Aunt (Syd Barrett) Open The Door, Homer (Dylan) - --- jeffreyw2fs.j@gmail.com wrote: From: 2fs To: "Not Reg" Subject: Re: Cleveland Nov 12 2006 Setlist Date: Thu, 16 Nov 2006 09:50:59 -0600 And now, the compact version: On 11/16/06, Bri N wrote: > > > ClvlndOhBchlndBllrmNvmbr1206ScroVnsAcdBrdQnoEysAdvntrRcktShpOlTrntlPrpllrTmIfuWraPrst ChnsBnsVbrtngTlvsnThAthrtBxJwlsfrSphCrpdOtMdnnothWspsMn'sGttKnwHsLmttnsBrggs WnnDstryuRdStrmEncrs:AwShtMn(Mns5)Cff,Bz,&Cgrtts(Mns5)ThBlldJn&Yk(Btls)GglAnt(SdBrrtt)OpnthDrHmr(Dln) - -- ff ------------------------------ Date: Thu, 16 Nov 2006 23:33:34 +1030 From: great white shark Subject: RH & Venus Three at the Governor Hindmarsh Hotel 10-14-06 Fegs I am back again although I promised I would go, but its not often a great white shark gets to see Mr H , in fact it was the first time, so heres a belated review of the gig for your consumption .... I was sunning myself under a sea urchin between bites down in the Southern Ocean a few months past when a tattered copy of Rip It Up (the local South Australian music paper) floated by, and me being a ripper music fan, I scarfed it, popped on the old readin glasses and gave it a gander. I was looking up the gig guide for Oct, when what do I see but the Gov Hindmarsh, me favorite watering hole, was putting on a gig by Robyn H and the Venus Three. Bonza! Gotta have some of that. So I got on the blower to me old mate Ianto in Adelaide and we made a date to meet down at the port and to get together for a few tinnies pre-show. Well Oct 14th soon came round and I had a swim down the bight to good old Adelaide, me drinking buddy the Victorian Squid had a come along for a decko as hes a big REM fan and wed arranged to meet Ianto and Ivars early so we could sink a few lagers in the Elephant room. Now me and the squid were wondering how we were goin to get around, being both a bit on the water dependent side of things, but no worries, Ianto said hed take care of it and she was apples mate, he and Ive had scrounged up a big ute and had a heavy duty aquarium perched on the back, so we hopped into that and the boys took us off to the E-room before you could say possum fever! Word had it that the polis were out in force on the road with the booze bus, so we didnt hit the grog too hard, just a couple of crates each of Coopers sparkling Ale with whisky chasers- although the squid preferred to stick to distilled ink, as I always say, each entity is entitled to stick to his own poison and the squids welcome to it, although ink always seems to turn him a bit sullen and prone to sulking its not as if hes the best of company at any time, but a mates a mate and youve gotta stick by them , so we all kept mum. Anyway, we poured ourselves into the ute and took a scrape round to the gov around eight or so, as we wanted to catch the support act and get a good posie down front as we were taping for the feglist. I was wondering how we were going to actually get into the gig, us being legless literally as well as physically after the Coopers - but as usual, Ianto had fixed it, hed hired a couple of those little electric gopher-mobiles that the old farts drive round in shopping malls and hed strapped them together so we could fit the tank between them. Bewdy! There were a few diehard fegs queueing up outside when we got there, but for some weird reason they ran away when we arrived, probably went off to post their first impressions of the show to the bleeding list, flighty bloody lot I reckon. So we squeezed ourselves over the ticket booth, got our fins, arms and tentacles stamped and sloshed down the front to our fav taping spot, stage left and about five meters from the front, right in front of the speakers. Once wed got our drinks settled, I took a gander round the place, which hadnt changed that much since Id been in Feb, theyd changed the straw on the floor and buffed up the earth as well so it looked bonzer. The holes in the wall had gone (well planks nailed on em anyway) and theyd put cushions on the sitting boards and old curtains over the barrels that supported them. New trestles, which were freshly, planed as well, no more splinters (well only a few)! There were more spittoons round the joint than you could point a prawn at and the barmaids had put on t-shirts to hide their tits so we could tell it was a bit of a posh do, the management had put on a real show for our overseas guests, didnt want the bastards thinking were primitive here down under. Ianto was a bit peeved he had to leave his pet wombat Melba outside, but I told him, you cant have members of REM getting fresh wom droppins on their boots can you? what the fuck sort of impression they would get of Adelaide eh ! Theyd think were fucking peasants you drongo! Anyway Im digressing. As we were supping our beers, around eight thirty we sees some action towards the stage with instruments being set up. Ianto sees who is thinks is Robyn go past and disappear backstage, the cove was gray-haired but I had me doubts that it was Rob as I knows him pretty well from the photos on me website. The other buggers arrive, bloody hairy hippy bastard with a baseball cap who sets up on bass and a smooth bugger on the Rickenbacker who has to be Mr Buck. Then I sees him, the real thing, carrying a tiny little cup of turkish coffee that balances like a witches tit on a plate, hes wearing a back and white spotted shirt with baggy sleeves and narrow violet trews and hes looking pretty spruce for an old bugger although he's gone fuckin gray. I nudges Ianto through the tank and tells him  now thats a bloody Hitchcock! First act was local lad Vick Conrad and he was pretty good but we was getting impatient for the main act, the crowd was slowly building up to around 150 or so, the crowd representing the entire gamut of ozzie culture, drunken sheepshaggers, drunken bushrangers, drunken-TV wildlife experts, drunken abo trackers, drunken geriatric lawn bowlers with varicose veins the size of tree trunks, drunken cricketers, drunken ozzie rules players, drunken celebrity golfers- and then to top it all the Kelly gang rolled up in their usual oilskins and bleeding tin helmets and pushed their way right down the front, blocking our bloody view ! Well fuck that, no-one stops the great white shark and the Victorian squid from seeing Robyn bloody Hitchcock for the first time ever, so we powered up the gofers and crunched over the bloody lot of them, I reckon we must have weighed a couple of tons between the water, our combined body weight and and the reinforced tank and we fair flattened them! At first they wouldnt stop whingin but eventually their dying screams petered out  (god how we laughed at THAT) -and just in time too, for who should come sauntering onstage unannounced but his nibs himself followed by the other three Venus buggers  the gray-haired buggerluggs being the drummer by the looks of things. Miserable sod only saw him smile once all night. Now the bass player was different kettle of prawns, all smiles, happy as larry  I reckon he must have just had his teeth done up and was showin them off as its not natural to grin like that all the time, although he did seem a cheerful sort I must admit. His nibs meanwhile was introducing the band and at last we were getting down to business. He sed, "mr scott McCoy puts down his drinks, mr peter buck straps on his guitar and Mr Bill R picks up his sticks, which can only mean its show-time and thanks to Vic for opening up. Were going to play a variety of tunes and here goes the beginning, where everybody starts " and BANG the bastards went straight into a sodding HUGE version of "If You Were a Priest " what a start, the sound was good, the band was hot and the sheepshaggers and the lawn bowlers were shaking their bones in their seats. No one was dancing yet, but that would soon be put right. I was keeping stock still in the tank as I was tapin, keeping the core- sounds out the water by getting the squid to hold them up on a tentacle or two. Lucky bugger he can keep some tentacles still and wiggle the others whilst I got to try to keep the deck dry and make sure the cable didnt come out of the plastic bag. Next the rickenbuggers came out the closet for "Sally Was a Legend". Which got everyone swaying. I forgot to mention that there was a clutch of giant red-backs that had arrived after the start and had been lurking up the back frightening the waitresses, when the band lurched into Ole Tarantula the whole lot did a surge and barged their way down front, crowd surfing over the heads of the two legs and with mighty leaps they threw their turgid eight limbed bodies onto the stage and swarmed onto the PA, where they remained for the rest of the song, their distended red and black abdomens glistening faintly under the cans . Fair do, the bloody band were not phased, but I think Robyn was perhaps a little nervous of their presence as he told a tale of being accosted by an old man in a lift who asked him  hey white boy, how many legs does love have  to which he replied, "old man, love is furry and has eight legs  at which the assembled arachnids were seen to nod their heads sagely and to relax their bodies perceptibly. The concert resumed with a song dedicated to morris Windsor, the song being quite short but morris being taller and born of woman Queen of Eyes was great fun and by now the drunken hordes were dancing and throwing their beer glasses at the reinforced sheet metal screen that the management had lowered after the arachnids had invaded the stage. "Adventure rocket ship" was dedicated to Governor Hindmarsh who was described as probably  being some colonial british bastard who was sent out here to scratch his neck above his stiffening collar as he comes in and glares at his terrified wife as he waits to collect his medal so he can go home and die. But ghosts need a second chance  This was a good night mates, the vocals were sharp and in tune and everyone - apart from misery-guts on the drums - appeared to be having fun, even though they werent knocking back any beers- I mean what are these people? , Dont they know that beer is life! Anyway I reckon that number knocked the stuffing out of the boys as they are getting on in years. So they changed the pace with a beaut song about this Arthur Kane geezer who was part of that poncey bleeding New York Dolls, bloody oath, fancy writing a song about a bastard who dresses up as a shiela! Still it takes all sorts I suppose and its a good sing along which sticks in the old brain box after a few listens. It appeared that the rest of the band were shagged out after this as Hitchcock strapped on the old acoustic and did a couple of songs alone, and they went down well, the red-backs swaying gently, lulled asleep by the sweet strains of  I often dream of trains  and Vibrating , which gave security a change to sweep them up in giant nets and take them out the back for a good spraying with Mortein. Thatll teach them to rush the stage! Birds-head followed and as usual it was beautiful, it conjured up visions of dead crows strung up on a gibbet, a regular sight on the main streets of Adelaide, were not known as the crow-eaters for nothing mates! The other buggers must have got their second wind as they returned for a hot version of Flesh Number One and the crowd was dancing again. They pulled up the steel curtain again now the spiders had buggered off so we could see the band clearly as they played a lengthy dinky di version of Beautiful Queen. As I gazed around the venue I saw that Cthulhu and Nyarlathotep had arrived late and were busy devouring the sound-man up the back, much to the consternation of the band, but undeterred, they soldiered on manfully and no one in the crowd really noticed anything amiss as Cthulhu used to roadie for ELP in the 70s and is a qualified sound-man, so as he was sucking the marrow from the sound-mans bones he skillfully manipulated the pots with spare facial tentacles. What a fucking legend that God is! I order to break the tension Robyn announced that this number was " descended from Remember by the plastic ono band but it goes off on a different. It goes off  and it did indeed as it was a mammoth  Somewhere Apart  At this point I had to leap partially out of my tanks and snatch the mics from the squid who had begun to gyrate uncontrollably, so moved was he by the bands syncopations and I must admit meself that I had a job keeping the old fins still during this one, but I managed the job. The next song  is about a man getting stung by a figurehead  and it turned out to be  Madonna of the Wasps  and many in the crowd looked fearfully over their shoulders in anticipation of a waspish invasion after the spider debacle, but we were spared that ordeal as the bouncers in an adroit move had placed giant fly screens over the doors which kept the waspish hordes outside, where they could be be seen to pursue hapless patrons in the bar relentlessly in a mass fit of pique at being banned from stinging the flesh of their guitar hero . Next followed a lengthy Briggs monologue, which was as funny as bath- load of bunnies but which was way too long to transcribe for you buggers and which stretched for four minutes. Briggs was great, but at the end Hitch said that this was the last song, which was Radio storm - for which he was greeted by a hail of bottles and used prophylactics, still we all know there was going to be an encore and there was, after a two minute hectic rowdy round of applause during which Cthulhu ate the entire bar staff in frustration, sparing only the duty manager who hid in the drains - where he was severely mauled by a spare ghoul who had accompanied the old ones for the trip and had been lurking a pleasant corner in anticipation of a small snack . On return we got Aw Shit Man, which wasnt as good as the Robyn tunes and Cthulhu shat on the soundboard in protest, but repented when the band segued into cigarettes coffee and booze  The tempo went up a notch or two when the band delivered a bleeding powerful;  Give it to the soft boys ", which had the old ones grooving in the aisles and cutting bloody swathes through the audience as they gleefully swung their giant appendages in time to the music. Barely a pause and we got a great Acid Bird  durIng which Nyarlathotep secreted acidic solutions through his pores in sympathy and disappeared noisily into the basement as the floor was eaten away, but phoenix like he levitated up to the ceiling and hovered there like a bloody fruit bat for the rest of the set. Pretentious git! Another encore followed rapturous applause from what remained of the audience as the lads delivered a thunderous five-minute  Eight Miles High  which caused the Squids tentacles to go pink with joy. The house erupted with pyrotechnics as the old ones provided a cosmic lightshow that resembled a pre 1970s acid trip on steroids and as the band ripped like a roo on heat into the aptly named  I Wanna Destroy You  the roof was ripped off the building and the walls were simultaneously blown outwards by the combined force of the old ones wolf whistles and catcalls. You just can't take them anywhere! Fortunately the band and ourselves were situated in the centre of the venue and were thus protected from most of the effects of falling masonry and rubble, as we dusted ourselves off , Ianto thrust his copy of Ole Tarantula into Robyn's shell shocked hand for signing and Ive thoughtfully chundered down the front of the polka dot shirt when his turn arrived for an autograph, but strewth, Rs a good old sport and a little smile played over his dust stained face as he wiped the puke off his shirt with the tail of Bills t shirt . As the emergency services converged on what had been the rear room of the Gov, we picked up Melba from the front bar and as we sidled off to our Ute we chattered gleefully about what had been a bloody good gig. Literally :) Der kommander ------------------------------ End of fegmaniax-digest V15 #275 ********************************