b sides

August 1, 2006

Anyone around here still own a tape deck? That’s too bad. Cassette (the band) are giving away a FREE* limited edition cassette (the audio storage cartridge) sampler – you know, just like their name – at Look & Listen outlets countrywide. Ask for them/it at the counter.

Cute. I bet this band is kicking themselves.

If Cassette’s sparkly, manic-esque pop rock harmonies don’t have you obsessively forwarding and rewinding through the chorus of Your Star until the tape snaps, then cover the tabs with sticky tape and resurrect a staple of 80s and 90s youth culture: The Mixtape. Who hasn’t said “Take me now”, “I hate you” or, “Irregardless is not a real word” with a painstakingly constructed, hormonally-fuelled playlist that thumps and reverberates with secret meaning? And a homemade cover?

Me neither**. But that’s okay – one of the robots over at tiny mixtape will generate a track list for you:

This mix, they assure us, is for anyone who has ever sucked in their breath and taken an involuntary step back from the changing room mirror:

A mix tape to get rid of the bad feelings bikini shopping always brings on:

Sample Track: 09. Madonna- “Nobody’s Perfect” (Music). (You thought I was going to pick “Fat Bottomed Girls”, didn’t you?)

I found this one for Fatman:

The ‘Songs to listen to while sitting in the car, waiting for your brother’s soccer practice to finish, all the while pretending you’re a secret agent on a stakeout’ Mix:

Sample Track: 10. Johnny Rivers – “Secret Agent Man” (Greatest Hits)

Finally, this one is for me, because I forgot to have breakfast:

The ‘Let’s say, hypothetically speaking, that it was totally OK to eat people. If one were going to do this, it would probably be nice to have a mix tape of songs about food, and/or cannibalism. That would be ideal. If, you know, you were going to eat people. Not that I’m condoning it. Much.’ Mix:

Sample Track: 07. Dead Boys – “I Need Lunch” (Young, Loud, and Snotty)

Don’t forget to rewind.


* Actual value: R3.60!

** I’m lying, of course. If anyone wants one, drop me a line. (Terms and conditions might apply.)




It’s finally happened. David Hasselhoff has turned himself into a stage show. David Hasselhoff: The Musical will include sets inspired by, he says, “Knight Rider and the songs of Teddy Pendergrass”.

“I am also doing a heart-rending set on my life and the mistakes I have made,” says Dave. It sounds like a joke, but the show will be opening later this year in Melbourne.

Well, if Popbitch says it’s so…

the lick

July 5, 2006

I’m your ice-cream man and I like Mötley Crüe…”

Sloppy Seconds. Remember them? Me neither*, until I read this article. Now I have “a stabbing or aching type of pain” in my temporal region “that recedes 10-20 seconds after its onset. Rarely, it can persist for two to five minutes“. Not unlike a Sloppy Seconds song, in fact.

But I digress:

Embrace the summer: come to terms with your local ice cream truck chime, and admit that you crave — nay, require — its catchy 20 second hook on glorious infinite repeat for maximum seasonal enjoyment.

WFMU’s Beware of the Blog scoops up a double serving of creamy, dreamy ice cream truck chimes. Essential… who am I kidding – particularly annoying for anyone stuck in the Southern Hemisphere in the dead of winter, licking chapped lips and dreaming of sweaty Camps Bay lifeguards and Choc 99 Caramel Dips with Nutty Sprinkles.

With links to mp3s of the Ghetto Ice Cream Truck Song, the Mister Softee jingle, Lips Stained Blue, Creamsicle of My Dreamsicle and my personal favourite title of all time: Torturing Swedes Since 1969, you can recreate your own sticky swirl of retro summer bliss. Or you could just blast this from your car stereo every time you pass a playground and confuse the hell out of the pre-schoolers.


* I lie. You never forget physiques like that. Plus, they once did a well-intentioned cover of the Misfits’ Where Eagles Dare.


Mmmm, Lifehacker.

Jesus. Would you look at the date, already? It's a good thing this isn't actually my house and you weren't really left to pick over yellowed copies of Spin and the Big Issue before succumbing – reluctantly – to starvation and eventual interment in the tomato bed alongside Pretty Boy*, the Gay(est) Budgie. Because then you'd never be able to:

Get The Hoff to Number 1
Think what he's given to the world. Knight Rider. Baywatch. The reunification of East and West Germany. Untold laughter from forwarded e-mails of him in hotpants.

He's given a lot. It's time we gave something back.

Popbitch reckons he's doing quite well on his own, actually:

He was recently booked for Google's summer party in Berlin. slurred his way through a set of pop songs but couldn't remember the words to his new release Jump In My Car so Google staff had to write them down and tape the sheets of paper around the stage.


{* Poor Pretty Boy – I dug him up twice. Accidentally, I swear.}

jou deftige duiwel

June 6, 2006

Laat ons sien hoeveel mense van my hou! Moet 'Kersfees' met 'Johan Stemmet Dag' verruil? Stem hierso!

Die man met die hare wat skrik vir niks, die man wat nooit "nooit" sê nie, die man wat die "ken" in "kennis" sit, ons eie Dawie Hasselhof… dames en here: Johan Stemmmmet!

Die wêreldwye web is somtyds 'n wonderlike ding.


Ag, dankie, Jo'Blog!


It's the National Day of Slayer. In Wyoming, apparently.

Stage a "Slay-out." Don't go to work. Listen to Slayer. Have a huge block party that clogs up a street in your neighborhood. Blast Slayer albums all evening. Get police cruisers and helicopters on the scene. Finish with a full-scale riot. Spray paint Slayer logos on churches, synagogues, or cemeteries. Play Slayer covers with your own band (since 99% of your riffs are stolen from Slayer anyway). Kill the neighbor's dog and blame it on Slayer.

Look, I'm just the messenger, OK?

And tomorrow – if there is a tomorrow – you should stay home and listen to Entombed. Yeah. Entombed.

Pretoria: the very epicentre of big hair, animal prints and extravagant expanses of sock beneath bri-nylon hemlines.

Small wonder then, that the lovely Jen and her brothel-creepered crew have opted to open the very first Silent Screams Subcultural Store in the land of the groot snor. The small but fiercely tattooed distribution outfit, purveyors of “psychobilly, punk, rock ‘n’ roll, skate and tattoo clothing & accessories“, will be serenaded from the Thrashers skatepark by grateful punks Impropriety, and sharply dressed rock ‘n’ rollers, The Slashdogs and The Hellphones.

Don’t miss the exhibition by lensman Liam Lynch either – anyone who can spend a weekend trailing the likes of fokofpolisiekar and maintain a steady shutter finger deserves your respect. Also, his pics are fantastic.

Store opening: 19h30, 241 Serene Street, Garsfontein, Pretoria. Tonight, 2 June.
The Gig: 20h30 at Thrashers Skate Park. R30 gets you in. A genuine ID gets you beer.

me ears are alight

May 26, 2006

If I spent more time on the Internet and less time on frivolous distractions like ‘work’ and ‘deadlines’, I wouldn’t be the last person in town to discover that the ‘King of Ska’, Desmond Dekker, popped his clogs yesterday at the youthful age of 64.

Dekker – who, sadly, is probably best known around my parts as the guy everyone thinks is Horace Andy or a barber – rocksteadied Jamaica to the top of the international charts with Israelites, and 007 (Shanty Town), paving the way for a succession of island superstars like Bob Marley, Jimmy Cliff and … uh, Shaggy.

I really shouldn’t keep picking on the God Squad – it requires so little mental effort and incredibly, not even I can justify being that lazy. On the other hand, a little unintentional comedy does go a long way, and this inspired exposé of Satan’s Music dutifully trots out enough one-liners to kick-start a college t-shirt empire.

And it’s not just the usual suspects (metal, homosexuals) that face the flaming rod of righteousness, either. The people who brought you the fantastically monikered Antichrist Slideshow starring: The Popes of Rome spare no one: The Beach Boys, Bon Jovi, Christian Rockers, Country Music and, not surprisingly, Vangelis – are all beaten with their own lyric sheets before being drop-kicked to the Great Braai Down Below.

Stan help us all.


Hellarious, Metafilter.

tune in, freak out

May 16, 2006

In 1972, a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they didn't commit. They promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. Today, still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune. If you have a problem, if no-one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you should consider therapy?

Metafilter reminds us that it's never too late to have a happy childhood with this stirring collection of TV theme tunes from classics like Knightrider, the A-Team and Airwolf. Hey, Airwolf! Didn't Jan-Michael Vincent come over here and disgrace himself with a cocktail waitress / cheap hooker once? Twice?

"One of the most rewarding things happened at one of our screenings when a kid stood up and said, 'Thank you for making a film that, for once, doesn't make us look like idiots,' " Dunn said.

MTV offers exclusive clips from soon-to-be-released doccie Metal: A Headbanger's Journey. And Prozac and a hoodie for anyone looking forward to Bastards of Young, a double-disc release chronicling the rise of emo. Well, not really. But they should.

grow a spine

May 15, 2006

I used to date an indie rock nazi who made me feel sort of stupid for not knowing everything about rock, post rock, punk etc. It's been several years and my broken heart is way over it, but now I want to know it all for myself. Are there a few titles you could recommend to me about music history?

Stereogum readers make like Oprah and help the lady out with a surprisingly good selection of music primers: Rip It Up and Start Again; Please Kill Me; Lipstick Traces: A Secret History of the 20th Century; The Dark Stuff; England's Dreaming and everyone's secret favourite: Hammer of the gods. Hammer of the gods!

Inexplicably, neither of these got a mention.

Stereogum ponies up What a Waste – another mp3 from Sonic Youth’s forthcoming album, Rather Ripped. Rather nice, actually. Thanks.


In a neat example of life imitating MTV, a young journalist at one of the recent People’s Celebration Concerts describes how she was whisked from concert venue to swish hotel and very nearly ended up as the Big Dogg’s bitch. Believe me, I’m just as surprised as you are:

“After I eyed him suspiciously, Uncle Reo went on to explain to me how "it" works. He said Snoop would point out girls he wanted to join him after a concert, his bodyguard or his uncle would then fetch the girls and they would then be invited to the hotel Snoop was staying at.”


And Rolling Stone celebrates its 1000th issue by revealing the stories behind the biggest stories of the last 39 years, and spades of other interesting content. It’s a pleasant reminder of the extent to which the publication shaped and defined the industry before music television really took hold – and I’m sure it wields just as much influence today. Yet I can’t help feeling that it has gradually devolved into MTV’s stylish older, duller, sibling over the last few years. And, really – one VH1 is quite enough.

hell-bent for celluloid

April 27, 2006

High School wasn’t that bad. It was there that I first became known – affectionately, even – as 'The Ice Maiden', skirted expulsion a couple of times, and attracted the first in a short, but tenacious, line of boys whose conversational output consisted almost exclusively of excerpts from the Monty Python Parrot Sketch, underscored by some ambiguous hand gestures and laboured breathing.

I move in much more sophisticated circles now. And I find I'm attracting interest from rather more cultured quarters – men who share my obsession with bruising guitars and moving pictures – heavy metal cinephiles, if you will. Or, in layman's terms, those whose conversational output consists almost exclusively of dialogue from This is Spinal Tap, Rock Star and Heavy Metal Parking Lot, punctuated by satanic hand gestures and a worrying post-nasal drip. Progress at last.

Scot McFayden must shoulder some of the blame, of course. The Guardian chats to the reluctant heavy metal auteur about his latest movie, and probes cinema's ongoing fascination with sweaty men in leather trousers. There's also a bit about a dragon called Denzil.

The most prosaic reason for metal's popularity with film-makers may simply be its popularity. In the Recording Industry Association of America's list of the 100 bestselling albums of all time, it is easily the best-represented genre: almost half the records in the list are metal albums. As McFadyen and Dunn's forthcoming film hopes to make explicit, it is a musical phenomenon with genuine global reach. "24 Hour Party People was a cool film, but for all that music was lauded and hailed as cool and groundbreaking in England, it's still largely a cult Anglophile thing anywhere else around the globe," says Brannigan. "But make a film about the guy from the Judas Priest tribute band joining Judas Priest and it's got a real resonance with a huge swath of the population."


Hail and Kill, rocknerd.


Blender's roundup of the 50 worst things ever to happen to music. I'm not on it.


Sweet, Pop Candy