The Dog's Tits Brain Police Grumpy Old Farts Encomium Jeebus Wankers
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Election This foul election finally happens tomorrow. If you're going to vote at all (and I'd prefer nobody voted), please vote LDP. Those of you in NSW, please vote the LDP's Terje Petersen no1 in the Senate, as he actually has a small chance of winning a seat (and how bloody cool would that be: an actual Libertarian in government. That's something the idiot Liberal party hasn't managed in a century). As the LDP is the only party that wants to reduce the size and activity of government, it's the only morally acceptable choice as far as I'm concerned. Other than not voting at all. As for the two main parties of arseholes, it doesn't matter who you pick. They are two groups of high-taxing, insane-spending, intrusive nanny-state arseholes. The 'big' minor parties are even worse: the Greens and the Dummycrats. Eeeeuccch.... As there's no LDP candidate for the House of Reps in the ACT, I'll just write "fuck you commies" on the House ballot paper, and vote LDP on the senate paper. Other than that, bollocks to the fucking lot of them.
Say hello to the gorgeous new Ducati 848, successor to the uninteresting 749, the little brother to the 1098. For some reason, this Duke in white is just pure sex in the way its big brother isn't. Better yet are the performance figures: 130hp from an 848cc v-twin. Bloody hell. If that's anywhere near accurate, it's a staggering figure. That's the horsepower of my 2002-era ZX9R, packed into this compact, fast-cornering package. This thing is going to be a bloody rocketship. I can't wait to try one. That's a shitload of power from such a small bike, more than enough for the road, and it's lighter than its big brother. Mind you, the build quality will be worse than a Vietnamese wristwatch, so it's the kind of bike I'd like to win as a prize rather than ever spending my own money on it. But still.....
It's simple: Soundgarden's Superunknown, released in 1994, was and still is the best hard rock album since Led Zeppelin's Physical Graffiti. This sprawling, 16-song CD is as close to rock n' roll perfection as it gets. Loud, ultra-heavy, yet beautifully melodic. It was both disciplined and raw, ugly and beautiful. From the Who-On-Steroids Spoonman, to the semi-psychadelic stunner Black Hole Sun, to the slow, creepy stomp of Mailman, Superunknown was a non-stop tour-de-force of heavy rock greatness. While Soundgarden had previously released some great songs (Loud Love, Holy Water and Jesus Christ Pose especially) they had never put it together across a whole album as brilliantly as this. Some context is needed here. The whole grunge thing had been around for about three years, largely dominated by whiny Seattle dreck like Nirvana and those talentless singing armpits in Pearl Jam. None of these tuneless junkies could rock their way out of a shithouse. The songs were one-riff whines sung by twits who couldn't sing, played by musicians who couldn't play, produced by people who seemed to be doing the recording through a $5 microphone in somebody's garage. Soundgarden on the other hand, had always stood slightly apart from these clowns as talented musicians who had never quite reached their potential. Superunknown hit the whole grunge/rock/metal world with the force of a wrecking ball. Other than the great songs, of which there were many, you had probably the best production of any album in the history of rock n' roll. The arrangements ranged from effectively simple and brutal on kickstand to multi-layered and hypnotic in the title track and Let Me Drown. Cornell - one of rock's greatest singers - was in never-better form and the playing and musicianship were on another plane from most other bands. Like all the truly great rock n' roll albums, this one seemed to offer something new every time you listened to it. The first listen got me into the balls-out fast rockers, then later on I got hooked on the semi-psychedelic numbers, the much later the slow-riffing, ultra-dark songs like 4th of July and Mailman. ...and everyone loved it. The grunge crowd loved it. Commercial rock fans loved it. Even the leather-n-metal guys loved it (it was overwhelmingly voted as the No1 album of that year by hair-metal mag Kerrang!!). Even now, 13 years later, Superunknown is simply a masterpiece.
After posting about the Van Halen disaster, I remembered another infamous live performance cock-up. The following video is from Led Zeppelin's awful 1988 reunion performance at the Atlantic Records anniversary. The fact that the keyboard sound didn't make it to the TV feed can't be blamed on the band, but there's no getting away from the fact that while performing Stairway To Heaven, Jimmy Page pulled off probably the most inept guitar solo of all time. Oy that stunk.....
Either tomorrow night or Sunday I'll do my next update, featuring some photos from The Snowy Ride, along with some other stuff......................
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