Decree: The following Phrase to be used more often.

"To cut one's teeth on the dishlickers..."

As in:

A: "How was last night?"

B: "It was great. Suffice to say that I cut my teeth on the dishlickers."

or

A: "What do you think of Brahms' music?"

B: "I think he cut his teeth on the dishlickers."

or even

A: "How about those Pies on the weekend?"

B: "Yes indeed. They definitely need to cut their teeth on the dishlickers."

Can in certain select circumstances be abbreviated to "on the dishlickers". As in:

A: "Dennis- stop the car!"

Dennis: "On the dishlickers!"

Songs that make me smile: Danish edition

I let this section go a bit... but it's back with a vengeance. And not only is it highly vengeful, but it is brought to you from Denmark, as I am currently sitting in Bang and Jensen's cafe on a murky, cloudy, drizzly, foggy boxing day in Cope-to-the-izzle-mutha-freaking-hagen.

Please do yourself a favour and check out Firekites - an Australian "low-fi accoustic guitar project" turned folk/rock/clappathon unit.

If you go to their myspace (above) you can listen to a song called "Last Ships". Yummy, no? If not, have a watch of the video for their song "Same Suburb Different Park" (below).


Firekites - Same Suburb Different Park from trainwreck 20/20 on Vimeo.

Question: Is the girl in the video the same girl that was in last year's tropfest winning film featured on this blog here? Probably not, just that she's riding a bike in both.

A big "tusand tak" (yeah... danish and that) to resident music guru Peter P for putting me on to them. Another winner for blended female/male vocals. See also The Swell Season (Glenn Hansard and Marketa Irglova)

Trip home

So I've been a bit negligent with posting of late. Somehow a broken camera is very demotivating in terms of keeping posts mildly interesting.

Below is a quick resumé of my trip back home to OZ before starting here in Paris. You'll notice that I fell in love with a certain girl.

The song is Abacus by Fionn Regan

Peace out.


Trip home to Australia 2008 from james on Vimeo.

Hell is meant to be a place you go when you die

Dave is slumped down on his couch, a beer resting on his paunch. Terry, his son, sits beside him. They watch the BBC news. A report about the credit crisis is followed by a special update on the progress made by the G20 and then an update about the massacre in India.

Dave: You know what I hate about earth?
Terry: What?
Dave: It's so fucking complicated... isn't it?

Terry looks at Dave blankly, not really sure whether that's meant to be the end of the story.

Dave: That. That India business. Complicated. Isn't it?
Terry: I don't really know what you're-
Dave: Eh? Isn't it?
Terry: Hey?
Dave: Don't you reckon?
Terry: You haven't-
Dave : Hey?

Terry continues to look at Dave but Dave is entranced by the news.

Dave: All this... falseness!

Terry looks back at the TV.

Dave: None of it- bloody- matters.
Terry: Dad!
Dave: What?
Terry: ...Don't swear.
Dave: Sorry mate.

Silence

Dave: But I mean fuck! Would you look at that?! Shooting each other... for nothing.
Terry: Isn't that what they're saying Dad? Take the money and run. It doesn't mean anything anyway. Shoot the people you don't like. Or stab the woman you love because... well... you can. The meek won't inherit the earth. Good won't come to those who are good. It's all just chance you know. Chance after chance after chance after chance.

Dave: (entranced by the TV) Eh?
Terry: I was just saying...
Dave: What?

A report on Christian Rinaldo winning the footballer of the year award comes on.

Terry: I was just saying that-
Dave: I fucking love this kid Rinaldo. Go on my son! Thank god there's something to live for eh?
Terry: Yep... That's... awesome, dad.

Dave drains the remainder of his beer then looks over at Terry for the first time.

Dave: Pass us another beer would you?
Terry: Sure.