The Rolling Stones that have toured the world on a seemingly continuous basis since… oh about 1983 are NOT The Rolling Stones.
Well, they are and they aren’t. Let me attempt to explain.
If you’ve ever read anything about the phenomena known as Synesthesia you might think it is an interesting condition to posses. It is – I’ve had it for as long as I can remember. Of course it was not until a little over ten years ago that I put a name to what I just knew as a really intense relationship with music. Then I began reading about the phenomenon and more and more I found that Synesthesia explained the almost unbelievably visual relationship I tend to have with music. Even more recently I’ve come to theorize that – to my nervous system at least – music is a drug. A drug that I am hopelessly addicted to and that affects my brain in often debilitating ways. A drug that has served as a gateway to other drugs in seeking to enhance its already amazing effects, and a drug that sometimes prevents me from getting anything constructive accomplished as I space and pine over the sounds spilling out of my speakers or through my headphones.
I used almost the exact same title back in early 2010 when bizarro New York-cum-Berlin avante garde rock outfit Liars announced their (then) new album Sisterworld for a different website. Sisterworld of course turned out to be just as awesome as I had anticipated it would be (the remix disc not so much, but oh well…). Liars approach their music and image in some pretty profoundly originally and wonderfully strange ways* and nowhere can their oddness be seen more than in the videos that always accompany their tracks**- leading up to that album the band created rabid anticipation with the video for the track Scissors, which I love so much I’ll go ahead and post again here:
Miles Davis. What does that name mean to you? To most folks who are into music it is a name to be revered and reckoned with. Saying that his name may spur one to reflect upon monikers such as legend, master, and virtuoso may be an understatement. Suffice it to say the man helped drive and define jazz for several key decades in its history and is remembered by many as a genius and an innovator.
Note: I’ve been trying to write this article for about a month now. I started strong but it has been very difficult to put into words the things I am trying to put into words. Because of this time-differential, i.e. beginning the piece the day after the M83 concert in Los Angeles, November 9th, then struggling, putting it aside, moving back to it, etc. there are some possible tense or chronological hiccups. Bear with me – the last thing I want to do is streamline this into one time frame. That wouldn’t be very Gonzo, and although that is not my sworn oath, it is a very important tool for the box.
One of the beauties of the Melbourne has to be the music scene.
When I first arrived in town over a year ago I saw bloke by the name of Matt Joe Gow and his band The Dead Leaves at the Odd Bar on a Sunday residency and it blew me away. He and his band covered a few The Band songs to captivate the room: two guitars, four part harmony, the whole bit. Ended up shootin’ the shit with him at the bar with a beer after and turns out he was originally from Duniden, NZ. So I asked him about the punk scene there in the late 70’s early 80’s that really started take off with Flying Nun Records. He laughed at me and asked how I know that…thanks Jim for making me look cool. More on Matt Joe Gow another time I promise.