Monthly Archives: July 2024

Hit it Steve.

Radio Birman / The Hard On’s.
Manning Bar Sydney, 07/06/2024

After 50 years, it’s come to this – what is likely to be Radio Birdman’s final gig. A momentous occasion, and one more than worthy of comment. I’ve spoken long in the past about the effect they had on me, and if you ever want to kill a lot of time, ask me about them in person. If you’d rather not, and I can’t blame you, you could check out the new biography of them freshly released (Yes, I own it), a recent warts and all documentary and look up any number of stories of their volatility, both musical and personal. Their myth casts a long shadow to this day over the Sydney rock scene. Hell, even their logo is reminiscent of some sort of cult sigil, and they were once accused of Nazism by Red Symons. No, I’m not joking. But the songs are where it’s at. Aloha Steve and Danno changed my life and I’d wager I’ve spent more time air guitaring to that song than some people have spent hugging their loved ones.

The Manning Bar is packed, I think for the first time I’ve been their when that’s happened. To be fair, the whole tour was pretty much sold out, but it’s nice to see. The crowd is mostly comprised of various shades of grey and/or balding, as I am, but there’s patches of youth among them. I couldn’t help but notice the two guys in-front of me, who barely seemed to move. I get that you may not air guitar as openly or enthusiastically as I do, but how can you not be moved by this?

Opening were the Hard On’s, now fronted by Tim ‘You Am I’ Rogers, in full Iggy Pop/Bon Scott tribute mode. We get a set of what I presume to be new, or at least modern, material, with Rogers commenting on that after queries from the crowd. At one point I looked away for a few seconds, and when I looked back at the stage the entire band were now shirtless. Some band members managed it better than others is all I’ll say. I’m not exactly a fan, but they do their thing and do it well, with some of the banter being a highlight for me. They seem genuinely happy to be there, and in awe of the headliners, with the story that New Race being the first song they tried to play back in the day going over well.

I try to be supportive towards support bands, as it’s frequently a thankless task, but they aren’t doing it for me. Still, they go down well, and that’s a good thing. But I’m here for the headliners, them and them alone. Seeing them walk out onstage for likely the final time, singer Rob Younger bowing as he gets to the mic, it was emotional for me. Lead guitarist Deniz Tek is playing the Epiphone Crestwood guitar that used to belong to Fred ‘Sonic’ Smith of the MC5, which makes that guitar into a rock and roll equivalent of a piece of the True Cross. For those keeping track, Tek’s also an emergency surgeon and former US Navy aviator, who’s callsign was Iceman. Legend has it the Top Gun production crew visited the squadron he served with, which led Birdman associate Mark Sisto to later write to Rolling Stone magazine to say “You see, I know the real Iceman and Val Kilmer, you are no Deniz Tek.” Keyboardist Pip Hoyle’s all in black, which combined with the red tie he’s wearing makes him look like a pulp hero. I’ve no idea if the Spirit or Shadow ever moonlighted in rock bands, but he sure looks the part. I can’t not mention the rest of the band though, with Jim Dickson (bass), Nik Reith (drums) and Dave Kettley (guitar) firing on all cylinders. But it’s hard to take the eyes from Younger and Tek – Younger’s stage moves are as chaotic as always, while Tek’s intense façade breaks and he cracks a smile a couple of times during the show. It’s genuinely unsettling.

They open with Smith and Wesson Blues, and we’re off and racing. It’s functionally a greatest hits set, mixing material from the ‘classic’ albums (Radios Appear and Living Eyes) and a few from 2006’s Zeno Beach, with covers of Route 66 and the Velvet Underground’s Rock and Roll in the encore. It’s impossible to build a setlist that will please everyone, but this one bounces well between the faster and slower tracks – Alone in the Endzone, then Do the Pop or later on, a thundering version of Descent into the Maelstrom is followed by Man with Golden Helmet, at which point a slightly intoxicated seeming woman yells at me how it’s her favourite song. Also, it took a lot of restraint during Descent not to throw myself into the crowd. We’re packed in pretty tightly, so my air guitar reflex is restrained. My calves and hips over the other hand, ached for several days afterwards from toe tapping and beat keeping. I’d be curious to see what my brain activity is like during that song, but I couldn’t be lying down during the test.

Might be about the time I started to smell something in the crowd – could have been fresh paint from the graffiti tunnel I’d walked through, a curious ‘substance’ I’m unaware of or someone near me badly misjudged a fart. Mostly I was glad it didn’t appear to be me. The intro’s to Hand of Law and Monday Morning Gunk are extended, and both work beautifully – that bass rumble that begins Hand sounds all the more ominous being on repeat, and the way Gunk begins, with delicate picking that slowly ramps up speed, it’s just *chef kiss* Finally New Race kicks in, and a roar of cries of “Yeah Hup!” signify the end of the set. Mercifully, we get a few more songs after they come back. Murder City Nights goes down a treat, after which Tek says “We’re gonna do one more then we’re gonna get outta here”, and proceeds to thank management, crew and venue staff. At that point my hopes and prayers are answered as that drum pattern kicks in and we get Aloha Steve and Danno. I may have shed a tear or two as I cheered them goodbye, and I regret nothing.

I collect my thoughts, make sure the shirt I bought is still hanging in my belt and commence my journey home. It was a night for the ages. We will never see their likes again, and my nights are dark and empty when they’re not on TV. Book em Danno, Murder One!

PS: Apparently Albo, aka Prime Minister Anthony Albanese, was seen backstage.

This one time, at Wizard camp…

No, we’re not going there, but the line was too good not to use.

So, I spent my weekend on the other side of the country pretending to be a wizard. It was a lot of fun and I’m going to talk about it. Before I do though, there’s been some lovely things happen recently, despite falling into my now traditional ‘extend the times between psych visits and immediately collapse mentally’ issues. I got a photo with the Great Maker at Supanova *and* he remembered me from being in the audience at his writing panel about 45 minutes beforehand. I get that I have a distinctive beard, or maybe it was the ‘Not the One’ shirt I was wearing but I’m still buzzing from that moment Furthermore, in what was the best $10 I’ve spent since I bought a housemate a pendant of a bloody guillotine, I entered a raffle and won a pair of lightsabers! They’re currently charging and I’m really looking forward to putting them through their paces. This might be the inducement towards finally doing some Star Wars cosplay, though I’d need a belt hook for them first.

Wait, that clip is *how many* years old? *crumbles to dust*

So, wizard school. No, nothing involved with the ‘TERF Who Shall Not Be Named’, outside of the counter spell ‘Copyrightus’, to be deployed if anything from that series was used. I spent more time doing research in the leadup listening to the Snake Boys from Smersh Pod talk through the movies and I’m still cackling over the ‘Nearly Cancelled Nick’ running gag. Mentally, it’s the traditional post event slow returning to reality and I’d expected that. On the bright side, I booked more time off work afterwards, and the rain during the event held off, as I’d been caught in heavy rain twice the previous day racing back to my hotel. The venue was nice, with a series of cabins/small houses so players and crew were all in groups. The players were split up into various styles – each did the same thing, but had a preferred style and theme – Physical, Nature, Mental, etc. We members of Physical House were bunking with the Meta-Magic folks and while jocks and nerds are naturally mortal enemies, we bonded swiftly. Main issues were the sand and dirt we tramped inside (As you all know, it’s coarse and irritating and get’s everywhere), followed by the cold. Yes, it’s winter, but there were times when I had to pee in the early morning and was desperately hanging on, hoping the temperature would rise. I was reminded of the listening to podcast about the event And Now My Watch Begins, where it snowed. Yes, the game was set on the Wall in Westeros so it was incredibly evocative, but still. Needless to say, the sleeping bag gifted by my in-laws recently came in incredibly handy.

Outside of the cold, the venue was solid. It was a good size, the dorm rooms weren’t too far away and didn’t feel like everyone was in sight, so you could plot nefariously out of sight. I was part of a group planning to summon a demon at one point (We had it’s true name, so could have banished it easily), but we ran out of time/couldn’t find the other conspiracy members when needed. Next time Gadget, next time… Moving on. the catering was welcome (I do like bread and sausages, though I understand they aren’t to everyone’s tastes) and well stocked. Food is good and they deserve more applause.

The event was split up into classes, with breaks between. Classes included spell casting (Which nearly went to hell owing to repeated attacks by undead creatures. Experience is one thing, but nearly getting students killed is another), wand making (Arts and crafts time!) and magical creatures (Cute puppets and more arts and crafts!). Classes went well, though I was hoping for more content in a couple of them. The afternoon was break time, for me mostly being nap time, before dinner and some more shenanigans, the main skirmish on Saturday night I accidentally missed owing to getting wound up in conversation and not hearing the main group of players. Whoops… There were several Fae on campus, though I’ll admit the two mushroom themed ones constantly starting dance parties did put me off somewhat. I am very much not a dance party guy, but points for commitment to the bit from the crew. Also, the horror of someone getting torn in two by the Fae king and queen, owing to a deal the school headmaster had made back in the day, that had some impact. I caught some of the plot regarding that, but as I emerged from a nap shortly before the whole drama kicked off, I didn’t get the full thing. Feelings were had, though the less said about the mandatory therapy session afterwards the better. Well meaning, but not the best execution.

Cutest. Monster. Ever. (Drink can for size comparison)

Spellcasting involved yelling something in pseudo-Latin and flourishing your foci, which for most folks was a wand. It was lovely to see how swiftly everyone got into the spirit of the thing, both in the shouting and reacting sense. I understand it can be tricky when there’s nothing to react to, but it still sparks joy when the switch is flipped and the in game becomes real, much like seeing people panic at the initial zombie release in Zedtown back in the day. (I really miss that game, and still hold out a forlorn hope it’ll return.) Other shenanigans included a list ranking students preferred teachers (I fell asleep the Saturday night to the sound of that night being debated in the kitchen and the reaction from staff the morning after was heated), mostly legal duelling and Physical House triumphing over the staff in a game of spellball, aka wizard dodgeball. it started as 3 out of 3, then grew into best of 9 as neither side refused to admit defeat or get enough of a lead. Also, we students took far longer to start using our wands than the teachers, so we had a moral victory as well.

I’ll be honest, I missed a fair chunk of the plot, and I do regret that. There were a couple points when I needed a nap, owing to general exhaustion or noise overload. It had been a stressful week leading up to game, and that reflected in my performance. There was no IC romance, though I did volunteer for it – one of the local Fae had a prophecy that he was going to be ‘laid like an egg’, and while that wasn’t my flavour, I hadn’t tried it and why not? It seemed that the prophecy was misread, and as far as I know nothing more happened. The main regret, outside of not doing more, was should I have let my character die at the final ceremony? In short, there was a large ceremony to replenish the wards around the school, and I was one of the people donating a serious amount of mana to help with that. I was having a bad brain moment, not helped by a nasty tarot reading from one of the mushroom folks. The idea of a long life devoid of creativity is an utter nightmare to me, both in and out of character, and the thought of dying as the hero really appealed for a few seconds. ‘Let me die the hero, after so many as a villain. It is far better thing I do, than I have ever done…” Still, what’s done is done.

Despite the (mostly self inflicted) issues, I still had a blast. The people, players and admins, were lovely, and getting to reunite with some of the South Australian folks from Path of the Warden was a joy. I’m looking forward to the photos, if only to see what sort of absurd faces I’m striking. Actually, that’s another issue – I regret not getting any group photos, be that the players, or the school houses. And yes, I’m planning to head back next year should there be another event, dependent on time. Shockingly, I’m already having ideas, this time for a faculty member, the school’s sports teacher. The costume would be modified sports armour covered in runes, maybe with an enchanted whistle or blowing horn. Ah, the things my brain does instead of letting me sleep.

That’s it for the moment. Be seeing you.