Eidecan & Heineken

Regular readers and social acquaintances will be aware of my recent awakening from a dull and mould-scented hibernation. It comes as no surprise then, that an otherwise contrived gathering of adolescent metal/punk bands competing for two-or-three highschool groupies infront of a sweaty, rigid audience proved wonderful entertainment for my usually lacklustre Saturdays. Ofcourse there was a little assistance (okay, alot) from numerous varieties of beverages and chemicals consumed from 11am until 4am the next morning, but despite only managing to witness two of the ten-and-some-fucking-number of bands, I had a rollicking good time and extended my inebriated self to capture some photographic evidence of my townfolk's trashy behaviour for your amusement.

Behold, the Toowoomba Eidecan Youth Festival!

Le Bands

Twist Oliver, Twist! , fronted by my fashionable friend Dave, the musical genius pictured blurrily above. I hate to get all salivating-fan on you, but they are going places and worth your attention if you happen to appreciate a quality intermix of electro-pop/rock, with moody vocals and catchy, repetitive beats that quiver against your sternum and drive your soul full-speed through busy red-light intersections.

Flamingo Crash failed to impress me, but perhaps that was due to their reputation of obnoxious backstage antics and my urgent need of a refuel, if you get my less-than-subtle drift. The keyboard player donned the ubiquitous black pencil skirt/pinafore with a rather covetable Campbells soup t-shirt, while the lead singer reminded me strongly of an early Jim Morrison. His moves were hot, my friends.

Le People

Le Toilet Humour

I'd Rather ...

"... have a bottle infront of me than a frontal lobotomy."
Tom Waits

"... be a lightning bolt than a seismograph."
Ken Kesey

"... vote for something I want and not get it, than vote for something I don't want and get it."
Eugene V Debs

"... stay here with all the madmen, than perish with the sadmen roaming free."
David Bowie

"... be black than gay because when you're black you don't have to tell your mother."
Charles Pierce

"... eat glass."
Bijou Phillips

Cool Like Prince

How much more funky can you get? Pictured is the artist formerly known as The Artist Formerly Known As Prince, Prince (boy, was that fun), sitting front row at Versace's Spring Ready-To-Wear show 2007. Yes, there are two identical brunettes on either side of him. My feminist will wants to protest, but my insatiable enthusiasm for over-the-top gestures grovels at his Jehovah-worshipping feet.

Money, Sex, Fame, Glamour

As documented by the highly camp and gritty film Party Monster (2003) and its shockumentary of the same name, the Club Kids scene of the late 80's and early 90's was a wild, drug-fuelled movement full of excess and fabulousness, led by the charismatic and now imprisoned Michael Alig. Imprisoned, you query? Yes, as extreme living proof of the damaging effects of drugs, Alig and an accomplice repeatedly bashed a dealer over the head with the handle of a hammer afer a heated argument over drug debts, poured Drano down his throat and taped his mouth shut, left him in a bathtub for a week until the stench became unbearable, then dismembered his legs and disposed of the remains in suitcases down the river. He then bragged about it on camera, and everyone believed it was a publicity stunt until the body washed ashore.

Well, I only tell this story because it interests me, but it also gives you a sense of the decadence and downfall of such excess. Nobody wants to glorify horror, but, like Jack the Ripper and the World Wars, this time was a part of history. Where a young gay man decided to turn a bunch of parties into an infamous movement, where cross-dressers were fabulous, night time was the right time, and everyone loved living in the age of the Thing. Money, success, fame and glamour!

It reminds me of the lyrics in Frank Sinatra by Miss Kittin:

To be famous is so nice
Suck my dick, Lick my ass
In limousines we have sex
Every night with my famous friends

Well, I see a revival. Not so naive and carefree, what with sexual diseases, homophobia, smoking laws and the evident devastation of drug misuse pervading throughout modern society. But bright colours, adventurous dressing, themed parties and 90's hedonism is suddenly attractive again. Tackiness has been given a 21st century makeover:

Exhibit A
Style Bubble takes photo of neon-clad girl at London party.

Exhibit B
Underground blog Style Slut waxes lyrical on pop culture.

Exhibit C
Christopher Kane, Spring RTW '07.

Nina Hagen

Nina Hagen is an 80's German sex bomb. Labelled the 'Mother of Punk', she was into public discussions of God, UFO's, animal rights, and vivisections, and once appeared on an Austrian talk show explicitly simulating masturbation.

According to reviewer Fritz Rumler,

she thrusts herself into the music, aggressively, directly, furiously, roars in the most beautiful opera alto, then, through shrieks and squeals, precipitates into luminous soprano heights, she parodies, satirises, and howls on stage like a dervish

My favourite song of hers is the punk/funk/opera 'New York New York'. She goes CRAZY on stage - but even if you never get a chance to see live footage of her you can hear the wildness in her songs. Her voice actually shows you all those fantastic facial movements she makes.

Klaus Nomi

Klaus Nomi combined falsetto soprano opera, 1930's German cabaret, 1960's American pop, and 21st century synthesizers. He also presented an amazing visual image of a high fashion, heavily made-up futuristic Kabuki robot.

He emerged into the cultural scene in 1979, backing David Bowie on Saturday Night Live. He tragically died of AIDS in 1983.

My personal favourite of his music is 'Cold Song' - a slow, repetitive, organ-backed aria sang in an amazingly chilling falsetto. Although the song is so profoundly moving, you can almost see a neon stage, thick fog surrounding a stiff, robotic Nomi rising from his grave. I love it!