Doc's diary and Frenzal Rhomb blog
Entry 19
2004-04-13
G’day there everyone, and thanks heaps for a wonderful little Oz tour. We had ourselves a ball, and with a few exceptions, noted in previous entries, everything was just tops. I would write some form of tour diary, but I haven’t even finished the one from Europe, so you’ll have to make do with this: Played shows, everyone got drunk, had an ovary, had a ball.
Our hearty congratulations go to the organisers of last weeks Wildeloo Festival in Cummins, regional South Australia. In fact, Fucking Regional South Australia. Still, 4000 punters in a town with a population of 900 is pretty fucking amazing. And of those 4000, only one punched our Merch girl, and only one spat at her. Quite a good ratio if you ask me. Cheers to Spiderbait for the rock and for drag racing the charter planes with us, and to the Testeagles for playing their first gig in a year 800 kilometres from their houses. And to all the other bands we were too lazy to watch.
Just this weekend past we trekked down to Melbourne for the celebration of the marriage of our good friend and sometime soundguy Clem and our good friend and most time stinking pom Moth. Clem defected to London about a year ago, and already had his visa-approval wedding over their, so this one was the “let’s watch the parents get pissed and embarrass themselves” one. On Friday night Clem’s band, the mighty ResHeads took the stage at the Public Bar for their traditional “Clem’s in town so let’s book a show” show and it fucken rocked. A year between rehearsals was hardly noticeable, except for the regularly forgotten vocals and all-round shoddy nature of the performance. Nevertheless, they all the hits were there: Principal’s Dirty Finger, If Only I Could Touch You On The Front, and their ode to the scouting movement, 101 Boys. After they were done Gordy dragged us to the Corner Hotel where the Von Bondies were just finishing their set and Charney, our sometime TM and Corner Hotel employee plied us with cheap booze until Gordy started to look attractive, then I knew it was time to go back to the hotel.
The next day only had one mission, to drive to High Street Preston, to La Panella Vego Bakery. It looks just like any other bakery, but it’s all vego, and mostly vegan! I filled two bags full of meat pies, sausage rolls, jam doughnuts, cinnamon doughnuts, apple muffins, chocolate muffins and apple coconut scrolls and it only came to 7 fucking bucks! A bloody bargain!
That night, my stomach bursting with baked delights we went out to see a couple of rock bands, the City Lights and Rocket Science. Unfortunately before the gig started, Roman from Rocket Science fell over and banged his head real hard. Once we stopped laughing we realised that he’d knocked himself unconscious, and had to go to hospital. And that’s where he is, in a coma, right bloody now. He hit his head so hard that they gotta keep him in a coma until the swelling goes down, or else he’ll get some form of brain damage. Terrible news, and we do wish him the speediest recovery. But it does teach us a very important lesson: There’s no place for keyboards in rock n roll...
The City Lights still played though, and it was tops. As the night dragged on, a bunch of guys from the The Suits turned up, all dressed up like robots and superheroes, just to make an already night seem weirder. Of course by the end of the night we ended up wearing most of these clothes, there’s some pretty good photos if I knew how to upload them into this diary thingy...
Sunday arvo was the wedding, and as far as weddings go, it was pretty alright. No religious nonsense, just “I do”, “I do”, and now let’s get pissed. The group Even played, Wally from Even Djd, and we got them a lovely pair of bathrobes, embroidered with Cock and Cunt respectively. Then they were off to Port Douglas to look at things, and I got to drive back to Sydney. Tops.
Next up for us arseholes is the Regen festival in Broken Hill, this saturday. Our manager, true to form, hasn’t given us much info on it, and I can’t find any information on the net, except that a group called Problematic are playing, and I’m sure they’re tops. In fact I’m sure there’s a whole bunch of awesome local bands playing, and at least one hotdog stand providing the food for the weekend. After that we got ourselves a whole bunch of time off! Maybe we’ll even write some songs. I guess we should. Okay then, we’ll write some new tracks and maybe even release a new album this year - then everyone will be happy.
And that’s it for me. Make sure you go and see Anthrax, Hoodoo Gurus, Peabody and all the other tops bands on tour, and we’ll see you very soon.
Yours forever,
Lindsay Frenzal.
Entry 18
2004-03-21
Oh, and I almost forgot. If, somewhere around Newcastle, you see a slightly tall, kinda tough looking guy with a number 2 buzz cut riding a DogTown skateboard, could you politely beat the fuck outta him and send the skateboard our way. It belongs to Bob, the Bouncing Souls sound guy, and this cunt stole it from the dressing room after I told him that it was Bob's and not to touch it. Cheers fuckears.
Hey there ladies and gentlemen. Firstly may I thank everyone who’s come along to our little rock n roll shows over the last coupla weeks. They’ve been going off a treat and it’s all down to you people. And of course our sheer professionalism and talent, and that of the Bouncing Souls, the Quickening, Steve Towson, The Disables, The Optionals, Unpaid Debt, HBlock 101 and Ebola Goldfish.
But I would also like to offer my sincerest apology to the people manhandled by the security at the Arena last saturday night. When we booked the show we were vaguely aware that they had a reputation, but at the Waterloo we had experienced similar rubbish, so we opted for the club that allowed us to do a combined all-ages show. I don’t think we’ll be making that mistake again. I noticed the bouncers up the front being a little heavy handed with the crowd surfers, and we tried to calm them down, but it was only after the show that we found out that they were headlocking them, dragging them out the door, and slamming the heads of the larger audience members against the brick wall of the venue before chucking them out. Now I know there were warnings that crowdsurfing would result in being thrown out, but nowhere did it advise that “Crowdsurfers will be grabbed by knucklehead security guards, put in a tight headlock to cut off the circulation to their brain, dragged out through the crowd, slammed against a brick wall and unceremoniously thrown out into the street. Thank you, enjoy the show.” That would have been a more appropriate warning.
I would also like to thank the lovely manageress off the club for grabbing me, scratching me and trying to throw me over the balcony for walking in the wrong direction. My mistake, and it’ll never happen again, at least not in your club. Because I for one will never be going there again.
Please tell me, good people of Brisbane, where the fuck is a good place to play? The Waterloo’s fucked, the Arena’s fucked, the Gabba’s closed, the Chardon’s Corner is bloody awesome, but too small for us stadium-style rock bands. I hear the Chelsea has reopened, but then reclosed just as quickly. What’s going on there? We used to love playing there. C’mon, there’s got to be somewhere.
I guess in the meantime, everyone should support Club Sabotage’s roving rock ‘n’ roll rooms,The Chardon’s Corner hotel, Rick’s, the Racehorse Hotel in Ipswitch, and any other smaller venue that doesn’t believe in mindless violence. Or you could just go to the Depot and listen to mindless drunk cunts such as Gordy and Myself Djing a bunch of bad metal and Toto superhits whilst drinking the cheapest Coopers Longnecks in town.
Cheers, Brisvegans, and a big fuck you to the Arenarseholes,
Lindsay.
Entry 17
2004-03-10
Hey there Gang. Just got an email from the wonderful Evan from French webzine visual music, letting me know the interview was up for me to look at. Of course I can't speak the French lingo, so I ran it through one of those internet translator pages. Well, the hilarity to ensue was of such a standard that I just had to share it with you, below. I'm sure it's not the way they intended for it to read. If you speak Frog, click the link below. If not, read on for a rare glimpse into multi-cultural Frenzal Rhomb...
This immediately following their concert gave to the Trabendo, in company of Roger Murray and Dropkick Murphys that Lindsay of the Frenzal Rhomb welcomes us in the lodgings. Surrounded by beers and other alcohols (to believe that they emptied the fridge of the Dropkicks...) that an interview more or less disconnected to place. History of better connaitre this group that does a true box in his country, australia.
Entry 16
2004-03-10
Hey there my good ladies and gentlemen. Tis Lindsay here, freshly returned from that cold wet place full of weird accents and jackboots. We survived the 25 hour flight and got back yesterday afternoon, on my 26th fucking birthday. But enough talk of the past, I'm putting together a tour diary of those shenanigans that I'm sure shall make it into some below-par teen music mag at some stage.
Right now I wanna talk about the future, the immediate future in fact. Coz tomorrow is the Start of our Aussie tour. The Anchors Aweigh Ye Arseholes Tour 2004, to be precise (at least I think it's called that, I've only seen it written on the bill posters). The Bouncing Souls get in tomorrow morning, probably less Jet-lagged than us, and tomorrow night, thursday the 11th we kick things off in fine style at the Metro, George St, Sydney. First up is Ebola Goldfish, who rape the stage at around 8, followed by the Souls and then us, followed by some partytime Djing in the front bar by our good friends the Pash DJs until the wee hours. There's all the makings of a bloody tops night out right there. Of course, we've only been allowed to do 25 minute sets throughout Europe so the Dropkicks could do their 15 minute bagpipe / tin whistle duels and the like, so whether we're matchfit enough for a full headline set remains to be seen, but surely you've come to expect nothing less from us half-arsed cunts.
Following that, and a long snooze, we're heading way out west, Blacktown to be precise, to play the RSL club on Friday night, with Unpaid Debt and of course the Bouncing Souls. The Souls are from NYC, so none of you tough westside homies better try anything on us, we'll set the New Yorkers onto you, tell 'em you're mates with the 9/11 hijackers or something.
Saturday sees us heading down to a place almost as cold and wet as Europe - Melbourne. Two giant nights at the Corner hotel. Saturday is for the big boys and girls, so we can all get drunk and finger each other in the arse. H-Block are supporting, gonna be awesome to see those dudes again, and DJ Goldfoot is gonna make you swing your pants post - rock show. Sunday is for the little dudes, so any drinking and fingering is gonna have to be done behind the railroad tracks before the show, okay? Same lineup I believe, though DJ Goldfoot may take a leave of absence to hock his foot for some chips at the Crown Casino.
Righto, I've noticed I've been talking shit, please excuse my jetlag, I'm off to eat some more of my monkey face-shaped birthday cake and rock back and forth.
Happy birthday to meeee, happy birthday toooo meeeeee...
Hey there my good ladies and gentlemen. Tis Lindsay here, freshly returned from that cold wet place full of weird accents and jackboots. We survived the 25 hour flight and got back yesterday afternoon, on my 26th fucking birthday. But enough talk of the past, I'm putting together a tour diary of those shenanigans that I'm sure shall make it into some below-par teen music mag at some stage.
Right now I wanna talk about the future, the immediate future in fact. Coz tomorrow is the Start of our Aussie tour. The Anchors Aweigh Ye Arseholes Tour 2004, to be precise (at least I think it's called that, I've only seen it written on the bill posters). The Bouncing Souls get in tomorrow morning, probably less Jet-lagged than us, and tomorrow night, thursday the 11th we kick things off in fine style at the Metro, George St, Sydney. First up is Ebola Goldfish, who rape the stage at around 8, followed by the Souls and then us, followed by some partytime Djing in the front bar by our good friends the Pash DJs until the wee hours. There's all the makings of a bloody tops night out right there. Of course, we've only been allowed to do 25 minute sets throughout Europe so the Dropkicks could do their 15 minute bagpipe / tin whistle duels and the like, so whether we're matchfit enough for a full headline set remains to be seen, but surely you've come to expect nothing less from us half-arsed cunts.
Following that, and a long snooze, we're heading way out west, Blacktown to be precise, to play the RSL club on Friday night, with Unpaid Debt and of course the Bouncing Souls. The Souls are from NYC, so none of you tough westside homies better try anything on us, we'll set the New Yorkers onto you, tell 'em you're mates with the 9/11 hijackers or something.
Saturday sees us heading down to a place almost as cold and wet as Europe - Melbourne. Two giant nights at the Corner hotel. Saturday is for the big boys and girls, so we can all get drunk and finger each other in the arse. H-Block are supporting, gonna be awesome to see those dudes again, and DJ Goldfoot is gonna make you swing your pants post - rock show. Sunday is for the little dudes, so any drinking and fingering is gonna have to be done behind the railroad tracks before the show, okay? Same lineup I believe, though DJ Goldfoot may take a leave of absence to hock his foot for some chips at the Crown Casino.
Righto, I've noticed I've been talking shit, please excuse my jetlag, I'm off to eat some more of my monkey face-shaped birthday cake and rock back and forth.
Happy birthday to meeee, happy birthday toooo meeeeee...
Entry 15
2004-03-03
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! Welcome to FrenzalBlog, you pack of cunts! It's Lindsay here, live from Dublin, the city The Dropkick Murphy's wish they were from, in Ireland, the only country civilised enough to not squeeze pig fat into the Guinness. So this new blog thingy makes it far too easy for us drunk arseholes to talk to you lovely people at any time at all, and it will be published instantly, so everything we say you're gonna see. So get prepared for some drunken whinging and stoned paranoid ramblings from your favourite pseudo-punk poseurs, Frenzal Rhomb.
First things first though, Ireland's the only country where Guinness is vegan, so I'm taking my hippy arse off to a pub. Happy Fuckday, Arsemouths!
Love forever, Lindsay.