off the hip bbq

I had to go printer shopping with my Dad on Sunday, so I arrived at the Off the Hip BBQ at the Tote kinda late. It had been going all day but we only arrived at the demise of the Cheats set, in time to catch Russian Roulettes.

Russian Roulettes completely slayed it, and I'd defs go see them again. The drummer had a super cute lisp, and some real tight hairdo. Midnight Wolf and Johnnie Casino followed. Then Spencer P. Jones secretly took o the stage and it was really exciting 'cos he's amazing. I've never seen him without a cowboy hat before, so I guess that made it all the more special! He played a few songs on his lonesome on a cool transparent guitar, then a couple with backing from Los Chicos- at this point there was four guitars on stage- but too many cooks didn't spoil the broth.


I love Los Chicos, I saw them twice while they were in Australia, and I wish they were here forever and ever so that they could be my boyfriends (especially the singer). They were super trashy and did an appauling cover of My Pal, but it had so much heart and fun in it, you couldn't help but smile.

Buried Horses were last, weirdly. It kind of seemed as though it should have ended on the Los Chicos high. I'm still not keen on the new songs- I like the music, but the vocals are just too RAAAAH, and make me feel like I'm getting creeped on in the outback by John Jarrat in Wolf Creek.

i think you're cute

I saw the Johnny's at the Tote last night with Dad, and I was close to the youngest one there. Nice to see that that hasn't changed like the carpet (which was quite nice to walk on).

The first band was Vice Grip Pussies, and they said the word cock a lot. They were kinda New York Dolls-ish, and all had long hair, and the bass player had really lovely hair, and I can't wait 'til my hair grows that long, and after their set they all donned leather jackets with 'pussies' splashed across the back. And, and, and.

Archer was next. It was just a countryman and his small guitar thing. He sung country music, like he had hitched a ride on a freight train in the '20s (don't quote me if I'm wrong, my dad said that). He was pretty cute and funny.

Finally the Johnny's played, dressed up in shirts and cowboy hats. They were really, really, really good, and all the old folk in the audience loved it and were dancing.

The bass player, Hoody, kept smashing down beers between songs, and he also gave a minor shout-out to Shepp 'cos his mum came all the way to see him (could of hitched a ride with my dad).

If I had to pick one to fall in love with I would say Spencer for his voice, but Slim was real good lookin' for someone his age, kind of like George Clooney.

cuddles beach- a good place to take your girlfriend (and stab her)

My Dad and I went and had a geezer at the Tote exhibition, and there was so many cool posters. I got Tote-stamped for the last time, and like I was actually at the hotel, I felt like I was about five in comparison to everyone else who was there.

Then I went and found my new boyfriend, Gareth Liddiard. He was playing at the Northcote Social Club, doing a run of special solo shows. I've loved the Drones for quite a while now, but things are never in my favour when I want to see them live.
There was a girl with a guitar, followed by Jacky Winter. I recognised a lot of his songs, and he did a really cool cover of a Mum Smokes song. I was kind of worried at this stage though, because I brought my Dad along for his birthday. He's a bit more into punk (I think) than all this guitary stuff, but I needn't have worried- Gareth Liddiard was so much more amazing than I ever would have imagined and I bow my head in shame for ever doubting him.
His banter between songs was hilarious, I never really thought he would be so funny, as all the interviews I have ever read of his seemed serious. He joked about Australian music icons, roughnecks and tightrope walkers who tightrope walked over Niagara Falls, the back over again, walking with boxes of their feet and cooking an omlette. Plus, he had the cutest laugh I have ever heard.

I'm definitely in love with him.

goodbye.

The Tote always scared me a little because I never dressed right or looked old enough to be there, but it was one of the coolest places I have ever been in. My last memory of the Tote was seeing Digger and the Pussycats, The Stabs, Gentle Ben and then getting bruises to Sixfthick. It was amazing.

I'll miss walking in the wrong direction from Victoria Park station everytime I went to go see you.

Goodbye Tote Hotel x

spooky records tenth birthday

Sixfthick were delightfully disgusting once again, on Saturday night at Spooky Records 10th Birthday. They had their way with blow-up dolls, cracked glasses on backs, and sweated and grinded against ladies in the crowd. I missed the start of their set though, as I was watching The Stabs being fucking weird on the floor upstairs in the Cobra Bar.

I really like The Stabs new album, but last night they were a bit all over the shop. By the end of the set they were all sitting on the floor, instruments abandoned (except the guitarist) and the drummer was playing the bass with his beer bottle. I'd like to see them play again though.

Digger and the Pussycats also played, and were the main drawcard to my attendance (because I'm an obsessed loser). It wasn't their best show, but that's probs because last time they played at the Tote they were AMAZING, and all of their past shows I could never find anyone to go with 'til the last minute, so I cherished each of them as I do my eyes. I'm going to miss seeing them over Summer!

I also watched a little bit of Gentle Ben and his Sensitive Side, and it wasn't too bad but the singer just peforms so much better when he's playing with Sixfthick. Maybe the lyrics for Gentle Ben are more meaningful, so he has to tone down his movements and settle for gyrating?

Who knows- i stopped listening to lyrics when I started worshipping Digger and the Pussycats.

i love google maps.

Last night I got lost on my way to the Tote.


I'd been there a couple of times before courtesy of tram 86 and a short stroll down Johnston St, but this time I went some weird way and got really lost. I had to call my friend whilst standing on the corner of Hoddle and Johnston, so that she could locate me on Google maps and street view me to Wellington St. It was a bit embarrassing, but I'm sure she loved playing cartography hero.


The Tote always reminds me of my innate uncoolness (and getting lost on the way there only adorns this), and lack of years in my age. This visit, to see the Ooga Boogas last show for the year was no exception.

I'd never seen them before, but I had seen the guitarist (who was an extreme keyboardists for this show) in ECSR. I really like ECSR, so much so that I have a 5 by 4 (measured in A4 paper) homemade poster of them- mainly Brendan though.

The singer had this shirt on that, if my memory serves me correctly, stated 'on the loose'. This was written in fluro eighties type and every time I looked at him I was like "What? Why is he wearing a Daft Punk top?". I did this each time I glanced at him, which was really only when I wasn't mesmerised by the drummers top. If his t-shirt was a Iggy Pop song, it would be 'Dirt' (because that's my favourite).

The conclusion of the set felt a bit a bit abrupt (like my review- i'm super tired...), but I would probably go see them again because I have heard that they are usually much better than their Thursday Tote peformance.

My hair really smelt like the cellar at my parents house the next day. It actually still does, because I'm gross and didn't wash it in the morning (mainly because i'm inept at using a hairdryer).

I might go hit the shampoo now. Wait, I might nap first- I think my eyes are about to fall out.

now it's time to cut you loose.

Digger and The Pussycats and Yah Yah's are the twin peaks of my musical love and when they come together I get weak at the knees. Once before I had shrilly and hysterically professed my inundated love for Digger and the Pussycats orange haired drummer at a gig at Yah Yah's, but no need for embarrassment (I have no shame when it comes to barely know musicians), he remembered my name. I have continually been smashed off my face at every gig post my inaugural one. I have only ever been to one of their gigs sober, and that was last Friday at the Tote for their farewell show.

It was trashy garage punk rock at its finest and hilarity ensued with the drummer releasing his body from his clothes. He didn't have the finest body in the room, but he still banged his drums as vigorously as his chest was flouncing spasmodically. They were joined by a myriad- okay, maybe only four- guests from the crowd; a tambourinist, a maraccarer, a shitty single-hand drummer, and a tiny raucous-voiced lady. They were all shit, but all added to the amazingness of the night. I'm going to miss their live shows.

With Digger and the Pussycats departure from the country and the sobering realisation that as beautifully crap their music is, the drummers moobs made my retinas cringe a little. I think it's time for me to find a new lesser-know Melbourne musician to give my hand, face and heart to.