Archive for October, 2007

Chew-lip Fever

Published
by
Robyn
on October 27, 2007
in Music
. 0 Comments

The Checks played at the King’s Arms on Thursday night to celebrate the launch of their debut album, Hunting Whales.

I’d only seen the Checks play once before, about two and a half years ago, at a Public Address Great Blend. At the time I gushed, “the Checks started to play and my entire life changed.” It’s true. They played some rip-roaring rock ‘n’ roll to a geeky afternoon audience at the Grey Lynn Bowling Club, but delivered it like it was in a dark, smoky club.

So I’d been keeping an eye on these lads from the Shore, as they released singles, toured the UK (playing with the Cribs, which is, like, my cute-boy-indie-band dream double bill), and got better and better.

I bought their album when it came out and put it on high rotate on my iPod. And it’s really good. They sound far more musically accomplished for a bunch of guys in their very early 20s. The songs have excellent arrangements, carefully pacing out the tension. And it’s just one of those records that’s really enjoyable to listen to.

I was in JB Hi-Fi on Queen Street last week and they were playing it as the in-store music. All around me I noticed certain people were subtly grooving to the music as they browsed through the CD and DVD racks.

So I was really excited to see them live. I didn’t see either of the support bands, but I hear they were both good. When the Checks took to the stage, something magical happened, and I’m not sure how to describe it.

See, the five of them ambled up on stage, looking hot, and got into position, strapping on guitars, picking up drumsticks and adjusting microphones, and then they started playing “Take Me There” and suddenly everything was all right. Maybe I could describe it as being like a sonic amphetamine, doing a line of the Checks, making everything light and bright and exciting.

They worked their way through most of the songs on “Hunting Whales”, and surprised and delighted everyone by throwing in a cover of Justin Timberlake’s “LoveStoned”. A lesser band would have done an ironic, cheesy self-conscious cover, but the Checks took it for what it was - a song about sex and drugs - and improved Mr JT’s original with their dirty, bluesy guitar.

(Actually, make me wonder what sort of songs the Checks are going to be writing when they’ve got a bit older and had their hearts broken, broken hearts and just lived life a bit more. I can’t wait to hear the sort of music they’ll be making in 10 years time.)

Other highlights were the audience joining in with the shoutalong chorus of “Tired From Sleeping”, and the sheer joyfulness of “Don’t Wait”. They encored with the “Hunting Whales” title track. I know some people don’t like it, but it’s one of my favourites. It sounds like the sort of song you’d listen to in a bar where you’re drowning your sorrow after someone maybe broke your heart, but you still love them. And it has the line “gimme tulip fever”, which Ed sings like “gimme chew-lip fever”, which sounds like a wholly desirable disease.

It was a good night. It was a really good night. The Checks are off touring Australia now, but they’ll be back in Aotearoa to do some more gigs in early November. They rock.

What You’re Lookin’ For II: Referer Madness

Published
by
Robyn
on October 22, 2007
in Technology
. 7 Comments

Another quiet weekend, so it’s time to take another look in my referer logs to see what people have been searching for that’s lead them here.

free tame iti t-shirt
This search showed up the day after the police raids and his arrest. If you’re looking for a T-shirt that urgently, you’re better off fashioning one yourself - retro old-school punk style! Just get your Supre “It’s All About House” T-shirt, turn it inside out, get a black Vivid and write “FREE TAME ITI” on it. You can also customise it by sewing on rick-rack, feathers and funky buttons!

a lady that got took to hell and showed her the passage and how it is going to be
I like to think that the person searching for this was actually expecting to find someone’s blog giving a first-hand account of this. ‘And I was like, “Oh my gosh! Where am I?!” And Satan was all “Say hello to Hell, bitch!” And I was all, “Man, this sucks!”‘

anton oliver and robyn
OMG! Our secret love is secret no longer!

inhaling exit mould
See, life is a gift that God has given us, and you should consider that life as precious and you should not abuse yourself in that life by inhaling Exit Mould. And besides, it’s just bleach. You can’t get high off it. I know - I tried!

rhymes on trouble
Here’s a question - yo, what rhymes with trouble?
Like when you’re lying in a bath filled with bubbles
and you consider space, like Edwin Hubble.
Here’s two more so our tally will double.
I dig the Flintstones and Barney Rubble.
Come here, boy, and let me feel your stubble.
Peace.

booze hag quiz
As the internet apparently cannot provide this, I have scientifically formulated a quiz to determine booze-hagosity:

Q1. do u like 2 drink lot’s???
Q2. when u get drunk do u get all dishevelled and does ur hair get in ur face and u spill drink on ur dress and stuff like that???
A. if u answered “YES” to Q1 and Q2, then ur a booze hag!!!!! me too!!!kewl - u shld come over!!!

cops asian mullet angry
I can understand why someone would search for two or three of these words together, but all four takes us on a journey right into the heartland of WTFness.

secrets of charming man
Ok, this is what you need to do. Get on a bicycle and go for a ride in the countryside. At the top of a hill, ride over something sharp so you get a puncture. Then after a while a charming man will come and give you a ride, and while you’re there in the passenger seat, you can quiz him on his secrets. But I’ll warn you now - he’ll probably think it’s gruesome that someone so handsome should care.

stop her boobs
Someone, do something! Quickly! Well, I mean, at the moment they’re just sitting there in her bra under her shirt, but, I swear, if someone doesn’t do something soon, they’ll start demanding the right to bear weapons and then they’ll start their own people’s revo-boob-tionary army! It’s got to stop.

Addendum:

if i do something obvious will i still get on your referrer list?
Nah, I probably wouldn’t even notice it, let alone blog about it.

Here we go again

Published
by
Robyn
on October 14, 2007
in Uncategorized
. 2 Comments

John Banks has been re-elected mayor of Auckland, in what was the most underwhelming election I can remember.

I celebrated by watching Flying Nun recording artists S.P.U.D’s 1990 pop hit “Breakdown Town”.

(YouTube doesn’t realise how apt that thumbnail shot is.)

Death Farm Film Revisited

Published
by
Robyn
on October 12, 2007
in Uncategorized
. 4 Comments

A few years ago I wrote about a disturbing farm safety film I’d watched when I was at school.

At the time my memory was little hazy, but I remembered it being a really sinister and gruesome story of a group of children who visit a farm, and one by one, they all die.

Well, I finally tracked down the film in question. It’s called “Apaches” and Wikipedia describes it as “one of the most notorious public information films of all time.”

It’s a British film and dates from 1977 and appears to have been shown extensively in British schools throughout the ’70s and ’80s, leading to a whole generation of grown-ups who were traumatised by it.

It’s available in its entirety on YouTube, but I feel like I should advise viewer discretion: children get killed, and horribly. When the little girl wakes up in the night after having swallowed poison earlier in the day, man, I don’t ever want to hear that scream again.

I still can’t believe that a) this was shown to me when I was about six years old, and b) they thought it would be relevant to New Zealand children living in what was essentially a rural suburb of Hamilton.

So, as a pre-Halloween treat, here is Apaches on YouTube, where it’s accurately called “Apaches - Horrific UK Public Information Film”. Below is part one, and then part two and part three.

The plural of text, and other modern dilemmas

Published
by
Robyn
on October 9, 2007
in Uncategorized
. 8 Comments

Simon le BonesThis is my cellphone. It’s a Nokia 1100, which, Wikipedia notes, “has been specifically designed for developing countries: its keypad and front face have been designed to be as dustproof as possible, and its sides are non-slip for humid weather.” (This is obviously not a world class cellphone.)

I don’t live in the developing world (though it does get a little humid around here at times), but this phone suits my needs - phone calls and textsisesses.

The slim gentleman to the left is Mr Simon Le Bones. He is the official mascot of my cellphone, and even if my phone kinda sucks, he brings a little deathmotif style to the business.

But despite the presence of Mr Le Bones, my cellphone is currently having some troubles. It does this thing where, when someone phones me, it’ll manage to ring about twice, then it sort of freaks out and turns itself off. But the most frustrating thing about this is it doesn’t keep a record of the call, so I have no idea who was trying to phone me.

I don’t know what the experience is like for the caller, but I have this horrible feeling that it might seem like I’ve been flicking the call through to voicemail because I don’t want to talk. Oh noez!

The phantom switch-off has happened a couple of times in recent days, so I’m thinking maybe it’s time to get a new phone. Something a bit fancier with a colour screen and maybe even an mp3 player and/or a camera.

But it all seems very complicated, this modern cellphone world. So if anyone has any hints or tips, please share. My minimum requirement is that the phone have a loop for Simon Le Bones to hook on to.

It’s OK, mate

Published
by
Robyn
on October 7, 2007
in Uncategorized
. 13 Comments

I don’t really know much about rugby. I’ve only ever been to one rugby game, which was in 1990, when I wagged my fifth form typing class to see the Hillcrest High first XV play some visiting school. I remember being vaguely impressed by those “line out” things.

17 years later, I haven’t even watched a rugby game on TV. When I see one, it just looks like a bunch of guys running around on a grass field, and sometimes skidding over lines or kicking the ball into places that makes the crowds cheer.

But I’m a New Zealander. I live in New Zealand. And therefore I can’t not be exposed to rugby in some form. It’s everywhere.

And this year I was kind of getting into the Rugby World Cup commentary and discussion over at Public Address’s Some Foreign Field, and enjoyed I the lively podcasts from the lads (and occasional lass) at The Dropkicks and I was thinking that this whole rugby, All Blacks and Rugby World Cup thing might be worth getting into for entertainment purposes.

But, well, I didn’t get around to it, and now the All Blacks, aka “we”, have lost the quarter-final against France and everyone is really really bummed. Or something starting with F that Anton Oliver was bleeped saying on the news tonight.

I understand that the people of Aotearoa are angry with the ref for turning a blind eye to a forward pass and/or the coach for his controversial resting and rotation policy and/or the players for sucking. But despite all the misery (and, oh, there were some miserable people out there on the streets today), people aren’t giving up. They’re not saying, “Oh, we’ll never win the Rugby World Cup!” They’re saying, “Now it’ll be 24 years until we win the cup again!” There’s hope.

The thing is, New Zealand is the one country in the world where rugby union is the be-all, end-all sport. Other countries, like Wales and various Pacific Island nations, do like the egg-ball game, but most countries are hot for football. Only New Zealand has its national identity sewn up so tightly with rugby.

But what I don’t quite understand is why the Rugby World Cup is considered the last word in rugby supremacy. I mean, the Olympics are another quadrennial competition, but we don’t discount the non-Olympic sporting competitions - regional and word championships - that happen in the interim years.

And what happened prior to 1987 when there was no Rugby World Cup? Was there a niggling fear that perhaps, while the All Blacks were quite good, maybe they weren’t actually all that good? Not even!

I reckon if we can love New Zealand, if we be so nationally proud that we call New Zealand Godzone, then surely it’s enough to know in our Aotearoan hearts that the All Blacks are the best rugby team in the world regardless of how they do in any Rugby World Cup competition.

Winning the World Cup should be the icing on the cake, not a definitive statement on how good the All Blacks are.

Oh, cheer up.

Character building

Published
by
Robyn
on October 5, 2007
in Uncategorized
. 6 Comments

I finally got around to filling in my ballot for the Auckland City Council elections.

With so many different things to vote for and so many different people to vote for, I went through the candidate profile booklet and started eliminating candidates based on their little blurbs.

I will not vote for candidates who said the following:

  • “I call for the withdrawal of US and ‘coalition’ troops from Iraq and Afghanistan.” OK, but what about plastic-bag recycling?
  • The anti-abortionist who says that, if elected, he will “use the office of mayor solely in this battle.” Sorry, the mayor can’t help you. He’s busy stopping a 15-year-old rape victim from aborting her unwanted foetus, etc.
  • The candidate who who “understands company reports as NZX investor.” This sounds like she sat down with a Work and Income CV consultant and learned to maximise her potential.
  • Regarding Queen Street being “a mess” - “I will encourage those concerned to wake up.” Yes, you Queen Street retailers had better wake up or there’ll be trouble.
  • The candidate who has no conflicts of interest with the “(insert name) District Health Board”. Yeah, me neither.

It looks like the mayoralty is going to be between the incumbent mayor and the previous mayor. Neither of them really excite me.

Sometimes I like to go into the Auckland Public Library’s Auckland resource room and read old city council propaganda publications. This is what I have learned - there are always going to be mayors who have really amazing plans for the city that never get to happen.

Mayor Robbie’s idea of a rapid rail system is often hailed as an example of this. I found the 1974 district plan that had this detailed in it. It was bit weird. There would have been an underground concourse running from Hobson Street (where Sky City is now) down to Queen Street, and up to Kitchener Street. Why? What’s wrong with walking down the street? And there would have been all sorts of peculiar tunnels and escalators needed to get under and around the hilly inner-city landscape.

But for every visionary idea that never makes it, there are also really horrible ideas that never get approved, like the plan to put a mall and office block on the site of the Civic theatre.

Every mayoral or council candidate that isn’t currently on the council seems to be running on the promise of change. Something is broken in this city, they say, and they’re going to fix it. But why does Auckland’s brokenness have to be fixed? Why can’t we accept the flaws of this city as being what makes it special? Does Auckland actually need “world class” paving stones on its footpaths?

Now I’ll just have to remember to post my ballot off.