IN CONVERSATION WITH… An-Un-Australian

“That’s Un-Australian,” you hear it all the time
But it bothers me our nationhood is so often defined
By the things that it is not
Instead of all the traits we’ve got…

Is it standing by your mate
When he’s in a fight
That he started with no provocation
With a brown man looking for an Aussie education…

Or just Vegemite
Which is owned by a US corporation
That went messing with our icon
For the iPod generation

And to sell more cheese (or cheese based products)

Once a livestock thief
Took shelter by a dirty creek
And killed himself when the police arrived…

Yes, we like to break the law
And never be accountable
We might say ‘sorry’, but it might take some time…

You might think my national pride
Is lacking in a way you can easily define

But when you call me Un-Australian
What you are really saying
Is that it’s Un-Australian
To aspire…

To a country where our dignity
Is inclusive and guaranteed
I won’t mind, I’ll be the first to fly the flag
When it is that time
I take responsibility
For working toward that reality
That’s what I’d like to leave behind…

IN CONVERSATION WITH… Neighbourhood Watch

Right Click to Download

AUDIO courtesy of your (my) friendly community radio statio… RTRFM

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There’s an old man in my neighbourhood; his name is Ray
He can talk for half an hour; He can talk for half a day
Standing by the side of the road
Complaining about the green collection

He can talk your bloody arms off while you make a cup of tea
He says he doesn’t like the Council, but he likes community
He’s got an answer for everything
But he won’t run in the local election…

‘Cause Ray is the captain of the Neighbourhood Watch
Which means he watches the neighbourhood turning to pot
He seemed so happy when he signed us on the spot
But I hope he don’t expect much ’cause he will not get a lot…

We’ve all joined the Neighbourhood Watch
If you ever see our bins you’ll see the logo and the swatch
But we keep the bins inside, cause our neighbourhood sucks
So much.

We sit in our house; Afraid of all the sirens
And the hoons in stolen cars; and the burglar alarums
It’s a piece of paradise
Who’da thought it’d scare me quite this much…

But Ray is the captain of the Neighbourhood Watch
Which means he watches the neighbourhood turning to pot
He patrols by day, which doesn’t help a lot
When the neighbours kids are in your fridge, ’cause thieving’s thirsty work…

IN CONVERSATION WITH… Michael Jackson

Right Click to Download

Right click on the icon on the left to download the audio, courtesy of RTRFM.

This song is the result of an internal conflict about the way MJ’s death has been received around the world… and in particular, this strange phenomenon whereby people have claimed that it is ‘too soon’ to make jokes at the man’s expense.

My gut feeling is that he was a lot funnier when he was alive. The tragedy is that a wellspring of weird — the stuff upon which some comedy careers have been very healthily sustained (think Eddy Murphy in ‘Raw’) has run dry…

On to the song…

There’s nothing very funny about Michael Jackson’s death,
It’s not like he was wrestling monkeys
In his oxygen tent
When Captain Hook let loose a broadside
From atop the highest ride in Neverland
And put an end to Pop’s own Peter Pan
It’s just a heart attack — and there’s nothing very funny about that.

I am saddened by reactions
To the death of Michael Jackson
All the jokes and hype flying around the ‘net
But the part of it that I did not expect

Is the people who say it’s too soon
To laugh before the final tune
As his family puts his body down to rest…
I suggest… [I Want You Back].

_____

Thanks to Sarah Church for giving me the following….

'Sabian Wilde - King of Pop' by Sarah Church

I think she got the frown just right….

IN CONVERSATION WITH… Avian Swine Flu

Right Click to Download

Trying a new format…. Right click on the icon on the left to download the audio, courtesy of RTRFM.

You get more from the audio… it’s not always funny, but it is always recorded at 7.15am, Tuesday mornings… and that’s a weird time.

In this instalment (a day late, a buck short), thoughts on exploding tables, Today Tonight, cockfighting and the importance of good nasal hygeine.

Thanks also for your enquiries about last night’s stand-up gig… I had fun and learnt more about what to do next time…

LYRICS TO THIS WEEK’S SONG BIT

Somewhere, there’s a swine
Who gave a human the flu
Next thing, pigs might fly
Now the virus is airborne too…

We’re all gonna die
Says the lady who reads the news
Better not get it,
The Avian Swine Flu…

IN CONVERSATION WITH… La Petite Mort

LISTEN TO THE AUDIO (courtesy of RTRFM)

Don’t leave me hanging
No chance of happy endings
Imagine the scene
The death of David Carradine

Was he trying to rub one out or tie one on?
Either way, it all went wrong
Grasshopper has come and gone
But then again, maybe he’s just gone

Now here’s a random thought;
The French call orgasm ‘la petite mort’
In English that means ‘little death’
Try telling that to Michael Hutchence

Carradine was not the first
But at 72, it seems a little worse
Nothing like the humiliation
Of death by auto-erotic asphyxiation

Except for trying to tell your Mum what it is and how it works
While watching your nephew celebrate the two years since his birth

Happy 2nd Birthday Maxie!

There’s a time and place for everything
A hotel wardrobe was the place for Carradine
His hourglass is out of and
And that’s not a pebble in his hand

At least he’s out of the closet now
And on the internet – he would have been proud
Celebrity ain’t that much fun
When your private life comes undone

IN CONVERSATION WITH… Clumsy: What I Have Is Gold II

AUDIO (Courtesy of RTRFM): Click HERE to listen to me approach a cover of Halogen, Clumsy, clumsily.

Last night’s gig went swimmingly… very happy to be amongst it again.

For the record, my setlist was as follows:

Autopilot: What You’ve Got Pt. I & II
Red Jezebel: Find Our Way Back Home
Fourth Floor Collapse: Primary School
Halogen: Clumsy

Highlights (of the rest of the evening) include my first chance to see a young singer/songwriter called Timothy Nelson, appearing around the traps with The Infidels. What a great voice, and some neat chops on keys and guitar.

Jake Snell went even more retro than me, with Header, Ammonia and Flanders — luckily, I had decided not to play Anky Fremp — how embarrassment would that have been… would have been worse than me turning up in the same outfit as Abbe May.

Also noteworthy, Ms May — one of the only people who didn’t appear to have pneumonia (rocking or otherwise), according to my guestlist —  played a cover of Eskimo Joe’s Liar that inspired a strange reaction from the audience… finger-snaps are percussive, yet these seemed imbued with sarcasm as expressive as the lady’s voice.

Apparently there’s a desk recording that will be available in the near future…

In the meantime, here’s a desk recording of my RTRFM appearance yesterday on Breakfast With Barr, covering Halogen.

Clumsy’s an odd looking word, really when you look at it. Is there a word for ‘visual onomatopœia’?

CLUMSY CLUMSY CLUMSY.

And of course, rescpect to Tania, who has been keeping the flag flying at the Hydey up to this sad point.

Eternal thanks also to Hayley Beth for giving me the spot (get up and fight, kiddo)  and to Nick Taylor, for loaning a guitar worth more than my life and far beyond my ability to play with any sense of justice.

Thanks also to Steve and Hugh, who turned up too late to hear me murder their song. Sweet kids.

What’s next?

Well, let me just say: Bob gave rock’n’roll to ya…

IN CONVERSATION WITH… My Funeral

This week’s song is inspired by this news article about the most popular songs for funerals (‘My Way’ remains the stand-out fave, but there are some up and coming challengers).

Of course, the irony of having someone else singing ‘My Way’ — in itself a song about someone else, written by that person and made popular by yet another person — would be anathema to me.

So, I wrote the following song to be played at my own funeral — preferably through speakers set into my coffin, which I expect to be fully pimped and tricked out by The Parisite.

Or the attendees will have to listen via Silent Disco headsets so my voice goes straight into their brain.

Pimp My Coffin

___

Listen to the AUDIO.
Courtesy of RTRFM
___

If you are hearing this it means that I am dead
Or missing and I’m not expected to turn up again
I wonder what I did this time; Did I do it to myself
But I’m glad that I pre-wrote this song, so I get to toast YOUR health

I bet you’re all pretty glad you’re not me
I mean… even more than normally

So raise you’re glasses, unless you’re not allowed to drink in here
Would it bloody kill them to let all my friends have a beer
As they remember me?
You’ll note I’m speaking of you ‘plurally’
In the hope I haven’t driven you all away…
With one notable exception, and that’s YOU, Dave… I mean it, get out of here.

So now I’m dead; what became of all my dreams?
My bright burning ambitions; Did I buy Playstation 3?
I can’t bite your head off
So now’s the time to tell me…
I’m assuming I failed to create the virus
That would turn us all into zombies,

But now’s the perfect time to tell you
Dave has herpes.

What are you still doing here Dave?
Except for giving me the chance
To kick your arse from beyond the grave?

It’s possible I’ve died from my own bitterness and rage…
But the important thing is I fit in the box
And I still look good on the stage…

This coffin doesn’t make my arse look fat, does it?
And if you think that does, well screw you, you can kiss it
In truth I’m sad that I’m gone, life is short so don’t miss it.

Except you, Dave.

IN CONVERSATION WITH… Bikey Mo (Airport Insecurity)

Download the AUDIO.
Courtesy of RTRFM.

–

Airport security think that my friend Chris
Looks like a terrorist
Yes they always test him
For the explosives residue
Randomly, they say “Hey You!
“Come here and let us rub this swab
“All over you”

It’s all part of the charade
To help the public feel safe
Until the bikies come to pick up their mate
And put a whole new spin
On arrivals at the ‘Terminal‘ 3 gate

I think it’s pretty weird
That they plan to stop the bikies
By introducing anti-bikie laws along the lines
Of the anti-terrorist
Forms of due process

Because it would have gone no further
Stopped well short of murder
If the bikies had been dressed as terrorists
Riding in on camels
And wearing an Islamic head-dress.

I don’t see the point
Of bringing in new laws
‘Cause a murder’s still a murder
Even on the airport floor
It didn’t stop the crime
Do you think it will next time?
The local chapter of Al Qaeda
Fundamentalists called Easy Riders.

__

And the stories keep coming…

IN CONVERSATION WITH… The Pauline Hanson Scandal

Hanson and Capper go air-head to air-head

*With apologies to Dexy and his Midnight Runners.

Download the AUDIO.
Courtesy of RTRFM.
Short edit ‘A little less conversation…”  090317_icw_pauline-edit (MP3 4.5MB)

____

Down ’round Oxley way
There’s a fish’n’chips girl
In a food hall world
But she doesn’t like all the flavours.

She’s got Aussie pride
Don’t we all? who’d blame her?

She’s young (and naked), in the (the papers)
Election just around the corner (come on Pauline)

Toora-loora-toora-loo-rye-aye
And we can sing like Warwick Capper

Come on Pauline
This stunt’s almost obscene
But you call it — A conspiracy

You in no dress,
Oh Pauline, just confess
It’s a hoax, yes,
But its yours, Pauline

It’s possible you’re clean
Your ex-manager‘s a shameless PR machine
And you sure as hell got on TV

You’ll show (your belly-) button (on telly)
But we are cynical and clever —  remember

Toora-loora-toora-loo-rye-aye
We’ll remember this one forever…

Come on Pauline
Why not try policies?
Or forget it,
Take off everything

Or blame someone else
Cause it’s never yourself
Ah come on let’s,
Let’s all get Pauline

Please…

Come on  – Pauline – for Beaudesert
She’s more, more than fish and chips
She’s danced with the stars,
She’s been behind bars

Oh, Poor Pauline…

Come on Pauline – for Beaudesert
She’s more, more than fish and chips
She says she has grown, but she hasn’t shown,
It all, says Pauline

Come on Pauline, these things are not real but
We know how you feel
Now I must say more than ever
I don’t think you can change
Too-ra loo-ra too-ra loo-rye-aye

IN CONVERSATION WITH… Labour Day [Redux]

Fly with pride... whenever you want

POINT OF ORDER: This is an updated version of last year’s song. New verse in italics.

AUDIO available HERE, courtesy of RTRFM.

_____

Stonemasons from Melbourne were the first to negotiate
The number of hours in a working day should really stop at eight
21st of April back in 1856
They reduced the working week while making sure the working wage was fixed

And that is why, we celebrate the 21st of April here in March…

I love Australia, I love the way ya
Get to celebrate your public holidays
On any day that suits ya

It’s something in our character
That says it doesn’t really matter
History’s the means to an end
And all we really want is a long weekend

A long weekend…

The Queen is looking old these days, I’m not sure that it’s nice
Could it be because we celebrate her birthday twice
Every year because here in the West it interferes
With West Australia’s Foundation, a day on which we sit and sink some beers

And that is why, if you must know
The Queen’s birthday coincides with the Royal Show

And how about Australia Day? I think it’s idiotic
That a plastic flag made overseas make you feel patriotic
Flying from your foreign car; the irony is cruel
And you are simply racist scum
If your bumper sticker says, “Fuck off, we’re full”

I’d break my neck
Trying to dive in to
The murky, shallow waters
Of your gene pool…

But…

I love Australia, I love the way ya
Get to celebrate your public holidays
On any day that suits ya

It’s something in our character
That says it doesn’t really matter
History’s the means to an end
And all we really want is a long weekend

So if that date comes into play
On a Saturday or Sunday
Take the Monday anyway
Thank the Union Movement when you still get paid

You still get paid
Thank Labour Day