I actually smiled. A very rare event. However it wasn’t the coffee bringing this freak eruption to my lips. It was the tiny wren perched defiantly on my camera case.
It’s a pleasant wake up. Not a Gibraltan Pigeon, not an English Sparrow, not a German Cockroach, not a Norwegian Rat (the usual unpaid wildlife associated with a cafe).
Domus Adultus, Hippo Bar, 25/6/9
by Jeff
Was an interesting moment – the room was pretty empty – George started with a disorganised instrumental piece that involved stopping the song to put the mic on the floor for his didg – then stopping the song again to pick the mic back up to sing. The acoustic guitar was distorting, flat batteries in the pick up.
The second song started as another roughy with a few mistakes and out of time – George looking a bit stressed. Then he just made a decision to cut loose and have fun. He leant back from the mic and sang and in that small venue you could hear his voice above the PA belting from the stage – a few punters looked up – he was on his way.
Musically everything began to work again – when he got out the SG he played with rhythm and tone – the two guys on the drums picked up the change in spirit and started picking things up – a song dedicated to Da Ha Hoo with the chorus ‘Da-ha-hoo’ put a smile on Ben Drysdale’ s face – (can Dahahoo please get back together by the way!).
by Simon Milman
After not going to the Hippo for many a moon I finally made it last night to the weekly CMC Domus Adultus night. I got there a bit early and had a chat with Mr Drysdale and Brendan the sound man. We ran the gauntlet – the usual drivel about lack of venues, bands etc.
Greg Carlin kicked the night off, or rather one could say ankle tapped it, as the place was pretty much empty and the acoustic guitar, vocals and brushes line up grated somewhat with the yuppified surrounds of the Hippo cocktail lounge. I sensed a theme of sorts here.
Next on the bill was George Bishop (formerly of the Andi and George Band) with a pair percussionists. George played didj, guitar and sang as the place filled up with more punters and there was finally some ambience to speak of. It was good to hear George doing his thing and it was interesting that his off mike acoustic voice pretty much eclipsed the Hippo’s mosquito sized PA. Again there was a slight uncomfortable feeling of ‘what are these hippies doing in here?’ I observed the proceedings with relish from the rear of the establishment.
Hullo,
Seldom is there a point to much I write about. What there is, is an image one develops when reading. Whilst traveling on the train to Wag Gawag Ga the other day, I witnessed a phenomenon that still occurs amongst travelers of this railway, the X.P.T. service that runs between Sydney and Melbourne with stops on the way (whistle stops).
I only take advantage of the service between Canberra and Wag Gawag Ga. I have experienced the frustrating feeling you suffer when the train stops short of Wag Gawag Ga. The other day the train was within ten clicks of the town when it stopped. It is understandable for the train to stop as there is an X.P.T. that travels the opposite way at the same time, so you can understand a degree of juggling when there is only one track and this was one of those occasions.
Special Correspondent
Bic Parker
Last night I went out.
I was asked… it was suggested… No, I decided to be of a little assistance to the President at an event. A musical event. It was being held at Corroboree Park. The C.M.C. (Canberra Musicians Club) was involved, operating a small refreshment stand as well as making representation of the club and scanning concert goers to ensure no similar scenarios that have plagued venues overseas occurred.
For those of you who are familiar with theatres and nightclubs with their carpeted floors and chrome fittings, glass tables, chairs etc. Corroboree Park is more subdued and understated. It’s National Heritage. Don’t you know? It has an interesting wooden floor created with a combination of Ash and Oak species of light and dark wood. Slap dash is the correct interior décor style
You can’t see me, but I’m even now developing my own moonwalking-inspired typing style. It’s kind of a reverse counter move where you sort of go for the key on the row above the one you actually want and just roll back with your fingers a little until you have a backwards stroke of the appropriate letter. It adds a funky kind of syncopation to each little typing moment and is, I feel, a fittingly peculiar tribute to a man whose influence pioneered new areas of celebrity insanity. From the early eccentricity of those one-glove-only days, to the bizarre apparition he became in his later years, Michael Jackson allowed everyone to see that only with as much wealth and fame as is humanly possible can you fully realise your potential for fucking up.
I always thought that one day he’d fess up to being a bit of a wanker. You know, he’d just say, “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m putting it down to gluten intolerance and I’ve been much better since I just started eating rice and vegetables.” Maybe he got a bulk discount on invasive and unecessary cosmetic procedures, and he just couldn’t resist the savings. I don’t know. Any kind of excuse would have done, but now we’ll never get to see him through the prism of his own self-awareness.
Postmark 6th April, 1970
James Street
Berridale
NSW 2628
(Sun) 5-4-70
My Dearest Jock,
How are you Darling? I guess you are very lonely as I am. I am missing you very much my Dearest and long to be with you again, and I pray that God will make that possible very soon.
I had a letter from Mum and Dad yesterday and they are coming up next weekend. Dad is taking a team of bowlers to Adaminaby to play on Saturday, and they are to be at Adaminaby to start play at 10.30A.M. and I will pick mum up in Cooma at about 9A.M. Then Dad has to play at Coolamatong on Sunday and they will go back home on Sunday night. They had hoped to be able to go out to Bungarby for Mon & Tues but they can’t get another car to bring the other bowlers. John got 7th place in the shearing in Sydney and Benny Keen (John’s mate) won second prize $350 and a silver medallion. [Read more →]
Present: Jim Boots, John Griffiths, Beth, Jess, Ruth
Our guests are Rob and Gus, two lads from Parkes going by the name of Bears with Guns.
Click Play Audio to play podcast. Click here to download
If you’d like to download the podcast, tap this URL: http://the-riotact.com/~john/insban/pod113.mp3 into iTunes or your media player or whatever.
There is a facebook fan page for people to marvel at here.
This 
link is for people who have podcasting software which you can find here.
Recorded on Tuesday 16th June, 2009. Track list and more pics after the jump
Being the only place open is no excuse for slack coffee. Good coffee is important for this cafe as it is essentially a roadstop for most of the custom. There are a lot of idiot drivers on the road to Batemans Bay; particularly in summer or most Friday arvos.
Last week I borrowed a book from the library, the title of which I have stolen for this post. Rather than the self-penned confessions of a depressive, it is in fact a look at some of the most downbeat songs known to humanity. Coincidentally, it is also the first thought I have most mornings when I wake, but that’s something I probably shouldn’t discuss too much in case my friends and family organise an intervention.
The book’s author – the accomplished and hilarious Tom Reynolds – begins with a reminiscence of the musical crimes inflicted upon him by his parents, and this prompted my own recollections of the music of my childhood. The Ray Coniff singers featured prominently (I can still recall all the words to a Yellow Ribbon Round the Old Oak Tree), as did Readers Digest boxed sets and the soundtracks to popular musicals. To this day you can see the sweat forming on my brother’s brow should he be exposed to the strains of <outh Pacific.
Postmark 3rd April, 1970
James St
Berridale
NSW, 2628
(Thurs) 2-4-70
My Dearest Jock,
I received your slides to-day which were great. By the way how did you come to get that one of the nude girl? [Read more →]
Bill Chambers & Kevin Bennett (Folkus, Sun 31 May 2009)
by Zeke
Words and Music
Bill Chambers and Kevin Bennett took a small, but enthusiastic, audience of about 30 patrons on a wide-ranging ramble through songs and stories at the Folkus room recently.
Although possibly best known as the father of Kasey Chambers, Bill is a highly respected performer in his own right, whose career (like that of his daughter) began with the Dead Ringer Band. Kevin Bennett is best known as frontman for The Flood, one of Australia’s most accomplished alt-country outfits.
Chambers and Bennett are not only talented and gifted musicians, but also very entertaining storytellers and their gig was a showcase of words (sung and spoken) and music. Their anecdotes ranged from stories about meeting contemporary music legends such as Guy Clark, to the joys and sorrows that form the life of traveling musicians.
Present: Jim Boots, John Griffiths, Beth
Our guest is the irrepressible Guillaume Soloacoustic, all the way from France via Adelaide.
Click Play Audio to play podcast. Click here to download
If you’d like to download the podcast, tap this URL: http://the-riotact.com/~john/insban/pod112.mp3 into iTunes or your media player or whatever.
There is a facebook fan page for people to marvel at here.
This link is for people who have podcasting software which you can find here.
Recorded on Monday 1st June, 2009. Track list and more pics after the jump
Ummm, this is funny. Watch it.
