Song of the day (Australia) - 150: Witch Hats

I've thought about this next entry, a lot. (Did you miss me?)

ET Recommends - 31: Witch Hats

Where are my home-boys now I need them gathered around me? Where are Stevie Chick, Ben Myers, Steve Gullick, John Robb? Where are my home-girls? Where's Jennifer Maerz, Kathleen Wilson, Jessica Hopper, Cathi Unsworth? I want to shout this band's name from the treetops, proclaim in every fetid barroom and unfinished street in the land, bow down to their vicious, sullen beauty and insouciant swagger, fuck with the dregs of humanity and call it a new religion. I want to roll through the crowds, ducking weaving, belly-punching and scowling, pushing aside the chaff. I want to dance naked in the fire-light, calling and carousing, giggling insane as the house comes collapsing round my feet. I want to lie, sprawled out on the stairs at The Venue, silence pounding a rhythm to my brain. I want everyone to know, everyone to know about The Majesty That Is Phill Calvert. I want to roll, roll, roll. I don't ever want this feeling to die away again.

ET Recommends – 29: No Anchor

I'll be blunt here. These guys praised me, so I thought I'd check their shit out.

Seems like I've been yearning for a little of this recently.

My iTunes has been flickering between Pissed Jeans and Wavves, Crocodiles, recs of the flesh, Melbourne's Witch Hats (who are Australia's greatest rock band when The Drones are out the country) and Arrington de Dionyso even (The Pop Group tangled with the occult) - not that I can usually allow it because I have a family after all, and we don't need further competition in the noise stakes, and not that No Anchor sound like any of the aforementioned.

But, as I say, it seems like there's a part of me that is forever a Jesus Lizard fan (not that I've ever listened to one of their records all the way through), who likes it when the music gets heavier and the atmosphere more humid, the guitar more distorted, the drums ricochet and rattle, and every other riff sounds like it wants to break into 'War Pigs'... that misses the camaraderie of sweat-glistening torsos and nicotine-sweet hair. That thinks perhaps Harvey Milk are pretty damn good even if they've got a stupid name.

Anyway, there's two of them in No Anchor, they're from Brisbane - and one can be seen sporting a Big Black T-shirt, which is probably an indication of something or other, damned if I can figure out what, right now.

Bring on the sludge, say I. Bring on the sludge.

(Least, I assume it was praise.)

P.S. Don't try this at home. I usually fucking despise people who praise me.