and your spirit drags the pack
OH MY GOD CAN I DRAW YOUR ATTENTION TO THE GOOGLE BANNER. PRETTIEST GOOGLE BANNER I HAVE EVER SEEN.
Well, here I go with a brief, tantalising synopsis of the few days that were.
Here I two pictures I stole from Megan's msn space to act as visual aids for your vicarious Great Escape experience.
Dean and I painting the mural.
A treat for my Americans.
So, three day camping music festival. I'd like to say that it really gave me a little kick or two to see how much was going on at the festival. Like, f'realz, the federal government may really downplay and underfund arts projects to the point where we all want to weep, but I think at local levels they are trying so hard. It was fucking awesome.
Other than the music, there was some whack shit going down. All these galleries... art, video installations, Art Express, sculpture. Plus the rocktastic mural wall to which I contributed. They cut up the mural at the end and auctioned bits of it, and I took home my own wee piece for $8. I did a speed life-drawing class. I made a lantern. Well, to be specific, I 'made' the majority an abominable structure of cane and paper, lagging behind the rest of the group at every step. Then the instructor was all AWW DIDDUMS THAT AIN'T GONNA FIT, HERE, HAVE MINE I PREPARED EARLIER. and I was all wahhh I'm so fucking incompetant.
We played 'Disco Bingo' at 11 every morning.
I went to the 'Laughter Club' for a while before recoiling and skulking away.\
I also watched 'Puberty Blues' on the big screen on saturday night. Hullo, PERFY.
Here is a series of snappy reviews of every artist I saw:
Silverchair: I WAS at the back, but hasn't Dan-Dan become a wanker? So boring. And he's gotten into all these pseudo-american sounding crowd-calls that made me gag. 'Freak' was fun. Otherwise, take it or leave it.
Sigur Rós: Takes your breath awaaaaaay... so amazing.It's just plain gorgeous. The girl next to me was reduced to tears within two minutes.
Laura Imbruglia: Endearingly immature bedroom songs along with rocking novelty numbers. I like her. She's both fun and pleasant.
The Vasco Era: Oh, BAM! Those guys are SO good. If anyone has a chance to see them go right up the front and just fix your eyes on that frontman. He is manicccc and charismaticcc and suchhh a strong voice.
Juan de Marcos' Afro-Cuban Allstars: Dance, dance, dance. Quite simply. If you don't like cuban music (i.e. you are Dean) then poo-poo, where's your mojo?
The Black Keys: Eh. Performance pretty solid but I still don't see what's so great about them. They can shred and growl but like uh SONGS??
Lior: Aw, yeah, a'ight. He's pretty boring. But This Old Love I will continue to like until... we grow old together? Or something.
Expatriate: I had fun!! I'd never buy a CD or anything though.
The Mountain Goats: Ahhhh, ahhhh, oh my, bowl me over, please, do it again, and again! Do it with the sheer ferocity of your intent, your voice, those lyrics, those contortions of your mouth reminiscent of an autistic child. John Darnielle performs like he cares about things.
But also, I was unfortunately witness to the most shameful display of disrespect ever! The Mountain Goats were pouring their souls out on stage and these WANKERS next to me were listening to their iPod. Oh lordy lord! The band is not for all tastes and I'll be the first to admit that, but just LEAVE you morons. They just stood there pressing the earphones further into their ears, cringing, and saying 'Ugh, his voice is so piercing '. Quelle horreur.
Then we saw a bit of cabaret, danced to a turkish rave, bla bla bla. Camping was excruciatingly cold. I went into the tent and screamed "JANAA!! EVERYTHING IS SO COLD IT HURTS TO TOUCH!"
The festival also had its usual share of septic squalor and suffocating bogan-density. Some of the toilets were kind of like WW1 trenches minus the gangrene.
My favourite overheard pieces of bogan dialogue were as follows.
-Where's the slasher?
-Yeah, where's the dunny, Rosco?
and
-Your name's Steve?! Top name!
-Yeah, you're Steve-o too?
-Yeah!
-With a V?!
and the security guards were so dodgy. They asked us for drugs and to sleep in our tent.
then the other night I dislocated my knee again. Sixth time.
bye.
Well, here I go with a brief, tantalising synopsis of the few days that were.
Here I two pictures I stole from Megan's msn space to act as visual aids for your vicarious Great Escape experience.
Dean and I painting the mural.
A treat for my Americans.
So, three day camping music festival. I'd like to say that it really gave me a little kick or two to see how much was going on at the festival. Like, f'realz, the federal government may really downplay and underfund arts projects to the point where we all want to weep, but I think at local levels they are trying so hard. It was fucking awesome.
Other than the music, there was some whack shit going down. All these galleries... art, video installations, Art Express, sculpture. Plus the rocktastic mural wall to which I contributed. They cut up the mural at the end and auctioned bits of it, and I took home my own wee piece for $8. I did a speed life-drawing class. I made a lantern. Well, to be specific, I 'made' the majority an abominable structure of cane and paper, lagging behind the rest of the group at every step. Then the instructor was all AWW DIDDUMS THAT AIN'T GONNA FIT, HERE, HAVE MINE I PREPARED EARLIER. and I was all wahhh I'm so fucking incompetant.
We played 'Disco Bingo' at 11 every morning.
I went to the 'Laughter Club' for a while before recoiling and skulking away.\
I also watched 'Puberty Blues' on the big screen on saturday night. Hullo, PERFY.
Here is a series of snappy reviews of every artist I saw:
Silverchair: I WAS at the back, but hasn't Dan-Dan become a wanker? So boring. And he's gotten into all these pseudo-american sounding crowd-calls that made me gag. 'Freak' was fun. Otherwise, take it or leave it.
Sigur Rós: Takes your breath awaaaaaay... so amazing.It's just plain gorgeous. The girl next to me was reduced to tears within two minutes.
Laura Imbruglia: Endearingly immature bedroom songs along with rocking novelty numbers. I like her. She's both fun and pleasant.
The Vasco Era: Oh, BAM! Those guys are SO good. If anyone has a chance to see them go right up the front and just fix your eyes on that frontman. He is manicccc and charismaticcc and suchhh a strong voice.
Juan de Marcos' Afro-Cuban Allstars: Dance, dance, dance. Quite simply. If you don't like cuban music (i.e. you are Dean) then poo-poo, where's your mojo?
The Black Keys: Eh. Performance pretty solid but I still don't see what's so great about them. They can shred and growl but like uh SONGS??
Lior: Aw, yeah, a'ight. He's pretty boring. But This Old Love I will continue to like until... we grow old together? Or something.
Expatriate: I had fun!! I'd never buy a CD or anything though.
The Mountain Goats: Ahhhh, ahhhh, oh my, bowl me over, please, do it again, and again! Do it with the sheer ferocity of your intent, your voice, those lyrics, those contortions of your mouth reminiscent of an autistic child. John Darnielle performs like he cares about things.
But also, I was unfortunately witness to the most shameful display of disrespect ever! The Mountain Goats were pouring their souls out on stage and these WANKERS next to me were listening to their iPod. Oh lordy lord! The band is not for all tastes and I'll be the first to admit that, but just LEAVE you morons. They just stood there pressing the earphones further into their ears, cringing, and saying 'Ugh, his voice is so piercing '. Quelle horreur.
Then we saw a bit of cabaret, danced to a turkish rave, bla bla bla. Camping was excruciatingly cold. I went into the tent and screamed "JANAA!! EVERYTHING IS SO COLD IT HURTS TO TOUCH!"
The festival also had its usual share of septic squalor and suffocating bogan-density. Some of the toilets were kind of like WW1 trenches minus the gangrene.
My favourite overheard pieces of bogan dialogue were as follows.
-Where's the slasher?
-Yeah, where's the dunny, Rosco?
and
-Your name's Steve?! Top name!
-Yeah, you're Steve-o too?
-Yeah!
-With a V?!
and the security guards were so dodgy. They asked us for drugs and to sleep in our tent.
then the other night I dislocated my knee again. Sixth time.
bye.