Sometimes you just know that you’re getting sick and there’s
not a lot you can do about it. Today was
a prime example. The delivery of my two
papers at the seminar went well enough but I could hear my voice begin to
crackle. Not helped by the venue which
was simultaneously draughty and humid, I felt my energy levels decrease to the
extent that I sat outside the venue for the penultimate session (still
listening to the speaker mind you) and re-entered for the final panel
session. As soon as that was over I had
to walk a few blocks in lightly falling rain to my car and, by the time I
arrived home, knew I was done for.
“M” then reminded me that we were due at a friend’s
significant birthday celebration. We
decided to go for a short while and then return home and spend the rest of the
evening and all of Sunday in bed. I next
rang Mikey to offer my season ticket for Sunday’s home game against Essendon
(it was going to be live on TV in any case).
He accepted it gratefully and off we went .
We ended up travelling across Melbourne’s suburbs to arrive
at the Pink Rabbit Record Bar in trendy Kensington. If I were ever going to run a café, this
would be the sort of place I would want.
Opposite the railway station, on a quiet suburban shopping strip in a
tree lined street, there is probably more than enough passing traffic to make
it a going concern, with seemingly little in the way of competition. We were supposed to have the beer garden out
back to ourselves, but the rain put paid to that. A pretty go flow
of delicious finger food kept everyone happy and the décor scheme kept me
happy. There were lots of framed old
style gig posters and other items on display including a crazy selection of
album covers (The Ritchie Family album anyone?) that were also available for
sale. I was rapt to be seated with “M”
in a corner underneath a poster for Frank Zappa’s movie 200 Motels; a photo
book of NYC’s former punk haven CBGB’s rested above my head next to a vinyl box
set of Queen’s albums. Such eclecticism
though was not apparent with the music on offer. A DJ attached to the venue spun an inspired
mix of mostly 60’s classics, deftly merging garage classics, with Motown,
southern soul and more commercial offerings that flowed beautifully.
Speeches came about 2 hours after we arrived and not a
moment too soon. Rapidly failing, we
took our leave and returned home, with a detour to drop off my ticket at
Mickey’s. I took immediately to bed and
basically stayed there for the rest of the weekend, cheering on the Bulldogs as
they threatened to pull off an upset against Essendon only to concede some late
goals to lose by an undeserved 31 points.
My listening matter more or less came as I was proceeding to and from
the seminar venue;
(# 530) The dB’s –
The Sound Of Music (1987)
If the world was fair, everyone would have heard of The
dB’s, their songwriters Peter Holsapple and Chris Stamey would be spoken of in
the same breath as Lennon/McCartney, Jagger/Richards, etc and this album would
have been a mega hit. Full of memorable
supremely melodic power pop, mostly written by Holsapple, this album turned out
to be their final album until a comeback album released last year. It starts with a bang encompassing the
unbelievably catchy Never Say When and Change With The Changing Times before
surging into the moody I Lie, the choruses of Molly Says and the quirky
Bonneville (which strikes me a s an uptempo version of Steely Dan’s
Barryville). Think Too Hard, Working For Somebody Else and Today Could Be The
Day are just as good. If you like the
Fountains OF Wayne, give this a listen and prepare to be impressed.
(# 531) Supersuckers
– Live At The Magic Bag, Ferndale Michigan (2004)
Early on this album, frontman Eddie Spaghetti announces “We
are the Supersuckers, the best rock’ n’ roil band in the world”. But after an explosive opening of the very
best of the band’s repertoire – Rock ‘n’ Roll Records (Aren’t Selling This
Year), Rock Your Ass, Bad Bad Bad, The Evil Powers Of Rock ‘n’ Roll and Creepy Jackalope Eye – you realise that
is actually a statement of intent. And this
for a show in a small club in the States on, of all days, a Tuesday night. The tempo almost never flags, except for
occasional humorous between track patter
by Spaghetti , as the band careens through the traditional concerns of many of middle America’s rock
bands - drinking, gambling, cars and shooting.
By the time you get to the encores, including a cover of Thin Lizzy’s
Jailbreak and their own legendary Born With A Tail (encompassing a detour into
one of their country tunes , this one hailing the benefits of marijuana), you
realise that Eddie is correct. When he
repeats the statement at the end of show, he’s not boasting but casually
stating a fact. Whatever you might
think, on the evidence of this one album, the Supersuckers were at least on this one
night, the best rock ‘n’ roll band in the world. And it remains the album that I’ve played
most over the last 12 months. 
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