Tuesday, August 30, 2005
The Separation of Powers: "Church & State"
DNRC38
Format: Double Long Player* (released on cassette)
Released: 2004
Status: DELETED
Sometimes, in this technologically-anal age, it's tempting to think that we've never had it better; that the present moment, or at least the one about to come in just a moment, is superior to all past moments, including the one just one second ago; that we wouldn't ever wish to be alive in the past again, even for an hour or so; that we are always in that enviable position facing forward, near the exit doors, in first class, secure in the knowledge that our baggage has been sent ahead on a future plane, and that when we do arrive in that star-spangled magic moment, an attractive stewardess will be there waiting for us, holding a cocktail in one hand and a tray of Iced Vo-Vos in the other; that all life from now on will be a digital picnic, featuring various mp3 snacks, podcast sandwiches, plates of cold mash-ups and, for dessert, a fully-interactive multimedia presentation of our bandwidth-hungry souls; that all old musical technologies are laughable, though not yet old enough to place in a museum, along with other relics from the rape and pillage days we have all come to know and love; that any band who saw fit to record their debut double album straight to vinyl and then release it on a 120 minute cassette tape would be committing the worst form of faux pas, that is, the kind of faux pas you only hear about long after it has been committed, by someone else, in another century, on another analogue planet; that each copy would be dubbed to cassette individually, complete with the comforting christmas pudding sound of the needle hitting the vinyl, and the pork-fat crackling of the static and dust on the platter itself; that the band, after having named themselves The Separation of Powers, would then commit musical hari-kiri by filling the last few minutes on side two of the tape with individual songs by other, perhaps more famous, bands; that, despite this eccentric hearkening back to a dark fibre age, this record would come to be known as a classic in its time, that is, the period between recess and big lunch when your tummy grumbles loudly and the lunch box has not yet made its slow and lumbering way from the tuckshop to your classroom, and you can only dream of the salad sandwich and small sausage roll you've ordered with the $1.20 your mum gave you, because it's Friday and that means sports day and that means not having to take your own lunch; that the band, far from recording a new album by conventional means, are in fact today still occupied with dubbing copies of said album, due to the amount of time it takes to flip four sides of a double LP, cue the tape deck and run through the exhaustive track listing; in short, that this magnificently barmy statement of intent will never be deleted. Sadly, however, it has, and The Separation of Powers are no more.
Thursday, August 11, 2005
The Hippocratic Oats: "Does"
DNRC37
Format: 7" single
Released: 2004
Status: DELETED
DNRC founder Davey Dreamnation first heard the mighty, mighty sound of the Hippocratic Oats one night in 2003 while out walking his pet llama, Scaramouche. The band, whose two members are both qualified natural therapists, had set up their instruments in front of the llama's cage; in the ensuing scuffle Dreamnation inadvertently set off a cascading synthesiser loop and the rest is their story. Pandemonium broke out in departments of integrative medicine around the world upon the release of "Does", the band's first single. Vocalist Dr. Phil Good claimed, through the band's (now-banned) website that the one minute pop song had special healing properties. The veracity of this claim was later verified in an issue of the NME, after investigators played "Does" to one group of teenagers with cold sores, while subjecting a control group to Enya's "Orinoco Flow". The results clearly proved the group that listened to "Does" fared much better than the control group, whose class action against Enya and her recording company has been held up in the court of petty recording sessions. The publicity generated by this unusual breakthrough in the treatment of herpes simplex led the band to patent its own papaya-based remedy for that unfortunately disfiguring condition, and to give away one tube of the stuff with each single released. Within days the song was at number 2 on some charts; on others, including the recognised industry charts, however, it did not appear. Unfazed, the Hipocratic Oats conducted a tour of emergency rooms across the country, the results of which would be shared with the world on their debut album, "Golden Staf Greats". Copies of the single (which has, unfortunately been deleted) may still be found in the usual places. However fans are advised to exercise caution when handling any second-hand tubes of Hippocratic Oats' Papaya Cold Sore Remedy.
Tuesday, August 02, 2005
The Prigs: "Some People Are Just Aksing For It"
DNRC36
Format: Long Player
Released: 2004
Status: DELETED
This disappointing release from Brisbane's Prigs symbolises all that is wrong with that ostensibly beautiful city in Queensland. Boorish, filled with cheap gags (check opening track "Bust a Moove") and otherwise riddled with tired 1970s cultural references, "Some People Are Just Aksing For It" manages to alienate most cultural and racial groups within seconds. Hip-hop fans will wince at the pathetic rhyme schemes utilised on the supposedly satirical title track, while anyone with an ounce of spirituality will abhor the dreadful mish mash of bile, pule and hammer time that is "I Defecate on Christ". Shortly after this album's release Prigs lead singer Prince Prig appeared in th Brisbane magistrates court on charges of inciting hate, charges which were later vamped up to include the alleged torching of the surf life saver's hut at Breaka Beach (denied), the Toowong Hotel beer garden (admitted) and the use of an Australian flag as a bum-wiping implement (forensic testing inconclusive). Despite this litany of plain old acts of stupidity, DNRC founder Davey Dreamnation managed to trump the band entirely by subsequently offering them a two album record deal. The Prigs, however, objected to the condition that at least one of those albums must be a Christmas album (to be recorded with the Guide Ponies) and so the band and label parted ways, some would say thankfully, upon the happy occasion of this woeful album's well-deserved deletion.
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