mo’ party to the people

The Peoples Celebration Concert is being held in celebration of Premier Foods becoming the biggest 100% Black – owned company in South Africa… The Peoples Promise Delivered! Kicking off on the 27th of April at Johannesburg Stadium, it then heads to the ABSA Stadium, Durban on the 29th, and on to the Green Point Stadium in Cape Town, on the 1st of May.

Ja, and they're so happy about it, they've dropped enough coin to persuade Snoop Dogg, ultra-N.E.R.D. Pharrell and Sean 'supa-steppa' Paul to come over and make eyes at the ladies at the country's biggest hip hop and R&B concert to date.

And, you can vote for your similarly-themed favourite SA act to see who gets to share the bill with them: Skwatta Kamp, Godessa, Lungelo, Brasse Vannie Kaap, Redds, Bongo Maffin, Carla Diamond, Loyiso, Zola, Amu, KB, Jamali, Morafe, Ishmail & Hidden Force. Or so they say. I'm voting for the Brasse, but I reckon Loyiso and Ishmail are guaranteed shoe-ins.

"Hands wash each other." I'm not sure what that means, exactly – but I'm seeing crates of coconut-scented baby oil and nubiles being delivered backstage, aren't you?

Ta, Power Zone.

god save the uriiiiiine…

In a shock development, the Sex Pistols compare the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame to a piss stain. In a handwritten note, nogal. What I'm surprised at is Johnny's shoddy grasp of punctuation.

A handwriting analyst once compared my signature to that of Richard Nixon's at the height of the Watergate scandal, confirming that I am a devious, underhanded liar who would think nothing of abusing my position of power. Or back in reality, my lowly, subordinate status. Yay.

Anyway, analyse the Pistols' note in all its sloping scrawliness here. Keywords: fat, juvenile, bitter, drunk.

Thank you, stereogum.

whatchamacallit does somethingorother

Unbelievable. The SA Podcast thingy site has finally been updated – and apparently renamed. Whatever, 'Fickle' is my middle name so they can rename their site every other week for all I care.

What's important is that you can now download a new batch of quality (I'm guessing here – I couldn't be arsed to take Werewolf Order off heavy rotation today long enough to actually listen to them. But you should check them out. Definitely. Is this perhaps the longest interjection ever, you think?) local tracks for your listening pleasure.

Huzzah, Pod Idols. And congrats on the marriage thing.

a shot in the dark

Sporadic and lengthy power cuts in the Mother City have severely hampered my posting abilities this week. That, and an ongoing hangover. Normal transmission should resume on Monday.

If not, send me your postal address and I’ll snailmail you reports composed in a shaky hand on the back of stolen beermats. I have nothing better to do with my life, honestly.

ace of bass

Honey, what should I strap on tonight: the Yellow Submarine? The Washtub, maybe? Ooer… something See-Thru? Or are you just feeling lucky?

Grrrrowlll. Quite possibly the coolest site ever.

I really shouldn’t have to tell you to read metafilter.

making cents of it all

The Gramophone puts some tricky music questions to Ask For Cents, “a revolutionary system that puts you in contact with a network of worldwide users, waiting to answer your questions” and gets some edifying answers:

q: If Gene Vincent’s song “I’m Goin’ Home (To See My Baby)” was riding a vehicle, what kind of vehicle would it be? And where would it be going?

a: A huge, purple semi on its way to San Francisco. (Source: imagination)

The beginning of the song is a trick. You think it’s a blues tune, that we’re going to circle round and round, listening to the lonesomeness of that electric guitar. But no, no no. Oh no. Because then the drums storm out of the closet, the saxophones pop out from behind the furniture, keys are grabbed from the hook by the door – and out we go, all piled in, heading crosscountry. There is a cactus by the on-ramp, sunlight in the air, not a cloud in the sky.

How great is that? I can’t wait to ask it to explain the whole Billie Joe Armstrong leg/torso ratio thing.

Sweet, Said The Gramophone.

blood in the suburbs

If you escape the knife fight fest 2006 on March 11 at the River Club, Observatory with your limbs intact, then you may as well press bloodied fingertips to keyboard and email your MP3s and website URLs to the Murdercall crew for consideration for the 2007 fest – now extended to 2 days of sick, sick fun.

A measly R60 gets you a thorough tongue-slashing from Hog Hoggidy Hog, Cooper, The Slashdogs, Fuzigish, Tonight We Die, Impropriety, The Doppler Effect, Man In suit, Half Price, and a veritable chain-gang of cool bands.

AAAAAARRRGH, Murdercall Records.

straight outta slaapstad

I dunno – every time I round a corner I spot a new flyer for former P.O.C‘itizen and Mother City turntable-supremo Ready D. And I swear, everytime I manage to get my neighbour’s TV aerial angled just so, there he is again, beaming his beatific smile from some upcountry TV studio, head slightly cocked and fingers a-blur. Either he lives at the airport, or Ready A, B, and C are out there covering the other regions on his behalf.

And when the man isn’t turning out little QBerts from his training workshops, he’s roaming the Flets with his Beatbangaz crew – DJ Azhul (BVK), DJ e-20, Shamiel X and DJ Angirl – “promoting the art of turntablism and deejaying through workshops, mix shows and mixtapes”. Somehow they’ve found time to launch a new website – check out the samples while you’re at it.

Shot, AfricasGateway.

some good, but mostly just bad and ugly

Eeeeeeuw…

Aren’t we long overdue for a nasty celebrity sex tape? Sure, we just had Colin Farrell’s taped tryst, but that was actually kind of hot. How about something to make us vomit? A video of Kid Rock and Scott Stapp engaging in some group play with the ladies would work.

Gross, Gawker.

Aaaaaaah…

Since this Rick dude is new to all of this, we thought it would be a nice gesture to help break him into the music business by asking him to produce our next record. We’re very happy he said yes! In other words, we are psyched to share with you that Rick Rubin is producing the next Metallica album! FUCK YEAH!

Hail, metallica.com

corporate rock fest swallows suburb. irony still missing.

If the Coca-Cola Colab thingy gets any bigger I’m going to have to move house again. The parking area around Green Point stadium can only accommodate so many Corollas before herds of spotty youths in Green Day tshirts start spilling over into my ‘hood, baying for hair gel and light beer. And you know what happens when I’m distracted while watching Isidingo…. but I digress.

5 FM are clearly excited at the inclusion of the Stereo MCs on a bill that already runneth over with the likes of Metallica, Simple Plan, Collective Soul, The Rasmus, Seether, Fatboy Slim, Prime Circle, The Finkelsteins, The Parlotones, Arno Carstens, Flat Stanley, State Far Better, Karen Zoid, Fokofpolisiekar, Sitter, the SpoonFeedas, Roger Goode, Flash Republic and some other people I’ve just forgotten…

I know, I shouldn’t be snippy. But the Stereo MCs? Zzzzzzz… Guess who I’ll be there to see. Guess, motherfuckers, just fucken guess.

Rock on, Powerzone.

give me the willies

I've been holding back on posting about Willie Nelson's gay cowboy song because I couldn't decide whether my Bob Mould: he grows on you title was funnier than if you can rope me, you can ride me.

Or if maybe you were all just as sick as I am of Brokeback Mountain jokes that get off to a promising start but finish in a rush, leaving you disappointed and feeling a little dirty.

Anyway, this article threw in a video clip and an anecdote about Scottish wrestling, which kind of sealed it for me.

Ta, screenhead.

one for the amakhosi

Britain, what the hell is going on over there?

Blimey, Variety. Now meet the real Kaiser Chiefs.

by the fird time youse hear this, it will be irritating

So I caught the tail-end of The Most Amazing Show last night which was, in fact a complete flippen' amazement, guy for several reasons: the terrifying brevity of Twakkie's 70s jogging shorts, and whatever it was Corné / Louw had strapped to his inner thigh. Animal? Vegetable? Nevermind.

And bestest of all, Zolani Mahola's rendition of er… that Wohwo-oh,ohh, woh, woh song. You know, the one that isn't about smoking dope.

She's like the Amy Lee of car hire budget hotel ads.

trailer trash

Nyarrrr! This teaser for the new Slashdogs’ video Darkest Fear proves two things: one, they certainly know how to gooi all the right shapes, and two, how easily I’m swayed by a flash of leopard-print guitar strap and a bit of a quiff.

Check them out in all their lurid, big screen glory at their official video launch on Saturday the 18th of February at Zanzibar in Pretoria.

Let’s hope they don’t serve chicken.

Woof, woof, Slashdogs.

none so black

The bad-ass afro rock (s)quad from Spruitview, will be confounding your ears tonight at The Blues Room in Sandton, Jozie. (BLK JKS, I'm talking about the BLK JKS, people. Keep up.) At least, I hope that's the right band – the press release refers to them as 'Black Jacks', so look, don't get all hissy if they turn out to be a samba trio from Boksburg.

Blame Joe Blog.