Tracking

Adding to the swelling pictorial collection on the blog I add this example of grainy, black and white Squid Ink rock for your visual pleasure.

Drumming in an echoey terrace after 10pm on a Tuesday with a family with small children two doors up apparently does not foster neighbourly harmony.

My local furry squid looks like Fab Morvan...

Squid Tank A Failure

STOP THE PRESS!!! as Silky-d probably says on a daily basis. A quick test run with some local four-legged furry squids has shown the tank to be an abject failure. Within seconds the furry squids had broken free from the tank and resumed biting each other on the ears in a playful manner. Despite the band electing me Big Chief Squid Wrangler, after a fairly bitter and dirty election campaign run by some other band members, with specific remit to rear a pet giant squid for mascot and fund-raising purposes I don't think I can risk my family and, indeed, the good people of Thornbury. I must build it higher!

Possible lyric idea:

Fear and ink had come from glee
When my giant squid broke free
Poor design has risked Thornbury
Instead I should have kept a sweet Hinny

Preparing for what's coming...

I have begun constructing my own squid tank for the backyard in order to put the band's money where its mouth is. Potentially, when the giant squid finally beaches itself in thronbury I like to think it may consider this for its throne.

Possible lyric idea for Crafty's suggestion for a song about cruelty in the poultry industry:

My brother is a capon,
I fucked him with a strap on,
My sister is a chick,
With a staple through her giblets.

Livin' Proof

Not just an underrated album by the Stikmen, here's Livin' Proof of the greatest gig that never there was — courtesy of the very excellent Concert Ticket Generator at
www.says-it.com/concertticket/
We are excellent value at $91 (plus booking fee). This is what happens when you are bored, at work, on a Sunday afternoon.
I am also quite fond of the Samuel Jackson soundboard at
http://www.ebaumsworld.com/sjackson.html
Minutes of fun for the whole family.

The loveliest blackboard in North Fitzroy

Superstar sends message of support

TV superstar John Doyle has sent an emotional message of support to Squid Ink after their powerhouse debut performance at the Empress Hotel last night.

Speaking to a band member this morning, Doyle — known affectionately by audiences for his portrayal of sports guru “Rampaging Roy Slaven” — asked how the band went in its biggest moment to date.

“I'm sure it was great and good luck to you all for your next gig,” he said.

Know Your Ink Well

Set List

I hope this doesn't ruin the surprise for anyone but here is tomorrow night's set list.

Nepotism
Mnemosyne
Turbine
Sibella
Mrs Bun
Industry
Thumpin Drums
Tracey Said
Dead End Town
Hinny
Gonna Hear My Sound

You too can join the crowd.

That fair lady, the Empress, opens her willing arms and gathers the people to her nurturing bosom this Thursday.

Our gig this week will be at The Empress Hotel at 714 Nicholson St North Fitzroy on Thursday the 21st. We will be supporting Kubric, the ever-popular masters of the hook-laden indie pop.

Thrill to the charms of Doug's vocals, gasp in awe at our courageous reharmonisation of Slipping Away, applaud enthusiastically for Dan's new DS1, nod with knowing appreciation at references to cross-breeds.

The ongoing saga of Paddy's rig.

For those of you breathlessly anticipating word of the repairs to my rig, your cries of anguish and deprivation have been heard. I am about to bring you up to date.

Last week, after reading some advice from a commenter on this blog (Hello Dr B!) I pulled the blown driver out of my speaker bin and dropped it into the shop to be rebuilt.

Me: "Hello my good man. Would you be so good as to fix this sorry-looking thing for me?"
Shopguy: "Why certainly. Is that it there? OH MY GOD! IT'S HIDEOUS!"
Me: "Yes. Umm, can I have it recoiled please?"
Shopguy: "You fool! Of course it must be completely reconed. Look at it!"
Me: "Sure OK. Will you recone it?"
Shopguy: "Is this from a car, or a home stereo?"
Me: "No, no. It's from a bass guitar speaker bin."
Shopguy: "WHAT?! You imbecile. I mean, look at it! A paper cone?! It's too soft. Idiot. What amplifier are you using?"
Me: "A Laney Pro Bass."
Shopguy: "A LANEY PRO BASS? WHAT!? But that needs a 4ohm load: this speaker is 8ohms. Look at it, dolt."
Me: "Well, it's only a solid-state amp. It's merely underpowered, it won't break anything."
Shopguy: "Pfft. It's your money, asshole. Come back tomorrow. And bring cash."

I returned the next day, handed over a healthy pile of my money and collected what looked like a beautiful work of art. The cone was an elegant blue and made of some hard material. New cork had been glued around the front edge. I screwed it back in to the bin and drove off to rehearsal.

That was the first time I'd tried the repaired amp I told you about last week, let alone this new speaker. Dave and I set up, I plugged in and let rip. Shopguy had done a brilliant job, the notes from the lower end of the E string were deliciously commanding, the higher frequencies were nice and clear. Aah, it is so nice to have my rig back.

If anybody needs any work on speakers, I can give you Shopguy's number: he's awesome.

Inter-species carnality blues

The orgy of slightly odd songwriting continues. This is somethng that came to me in the car this morning on the way to work. So just lyrics at the moment with a basic melody.

It unashamedly picks up on the band/doug's obsession with inter species breeding and could be a sort of companion piece for Hinny (though will obviously never hit the heights of that particular number)

I see the verses unfolding in a slowish "sex jam" kinda way but with a rolling, heavier chorus and a big riff...

v.1
When the li-on, meets the tiger
he says I feel it for you baby.
I'd like to get inside ya

You'll be my lady,
I'll be your man,
ruler of your jungle
and a mighty Afri-can

Chorus:
Girl my love for you is ripe
a woman of a different stripe
they say our love's a crime of nature
I can't fight the urge to mate ya

v.2
Next time he sees her
she's acting funny
She says sit down over here
we need to talk, honey

You know that
you drive me wild
but now I am the bearer
of our freaky outcast child

Chorus
Boy my love for you's insane
a cool cat with a hot mane
they say our love's a crime of nature
I can't fight the urge to mate ya

v.3
No-one cares for
a baby Lyger
grossly oversized
and neither lion nor a tiger

conceived in passion
but born in sin
his seed sterile, the world hostile
and there's no love for him

Chorus
Child there's nothing we can do
but hand you over to the zoo
this pride can't bear to see your face
a lonely cage will be your place

Bulky Mittens

Whilst sitting in an airport I began the lyrics for the concept album outlined by Norm earlier in the blog. It is no masterpiece but it is a starting point. I see this as an exploration of the bubble boy's pain and his motivations for seeking a tattoo. I will re-write the lyrics for Dead End Town so that they reflect his frustration with the small minded predjudice of his peers.

V1:
My tender fingers burn and sting
no matter what the gauge of string
My bloody fingers trip and stick
I've tried prosthetic finger tips

Bridge:
Strings will chew my scaly claw
I've got bulky mittens on my paws

Chorus:
I can only trudge, I can only shuffle
In smaller circles inside my bubble
I can only chafe, I can only bleed
And these bulky mittens can't set me free


V2:
My breath it stinks, my skin has curled
my blood's allergic to the world
I've heard of Rollins, I've got The Who
The skin graft man won't get rid of you

Bridge:
A tattoo's ink will do for me
But nothing else will set me free

Chorus:
I can only trudge, I can only shuffle
In smaller circles inside my bubble
I can only chafe, I can only bleed
And these bulky mittens can't set me free

Pedal Power

Today I took myself down to the Swap Shop and braved the guitar nerds to lay claim to my own slice of this orange-bellied baby, the worlds most common-as-muck distortion pedal.

I thought these badmuthas were all much of a muchness but was set straight by a helpful but shy indie-boy customer. Peering from behind his improbable fringe he pointed to two seemingly identical DS1 pedals and asked which one I was plumping for. One of them was missing a dial so I was making a red-hot beeline for the other one.

That's when he told me: ''this one (missing dial) is three years older, it's better cos it was made in Japan. By the time the other one came out, production had shifted to Taiwan." He kinda spat out "Taiwan" with a note of disgust.

I said, "do they sound any different?" and he said "not really, this one's just cooler." They certainly looked identical.

Tending more towards tightarse than audiophile I opted for the $10 cheaper Taiwanese model.

I say, go for it Taiwanese people, only by taking over the manufacturing of cheap electronics from Japan could you protect yourselves from the evil Communist powers that covet your tiny island. And it has all three nobs!

I plugged it in and I sound less like my old self. Which is to say, better. Can't wait till Friday...

The theme from Squid Ink

E-------------------------------------
B-------------------------------------
G-------------------------------------
D-----------3-4-----------------------
A-------3-5-----5-3-------------------
E-5-3-5-------------------------------
x Many


E-------------------------------------
B-------------------------------------
G-------------------------------------
D-------------------------------------
A--5-6-7---7-8-9----------------------
E-6------8----------------------------

ICE

I found this on this web site and I felt I should share. I am not given to internet humour or jokes of any kind but I doff my cap to my namesake.

IMPLAUSIBLE CLAIMS
MADE BY VANILLA ICE
IN HIS 1990 NO. 1 HIT
"ICE ICE BABY."
By Doug Erickson

"Ice is back with my brand-new invention."

"Turn off the lights and I'll glow."

"I rock a mike like a vandal."

"I'm killin' your brain like a poisonous mushroom."

"I'm cooking MCs like a pound of bacon."

"I go crazy when I hear a cymbal and a high hat."

"I grabbed my nine."

"I'm a lyrical poet."

"My style's like a chemical spill."

"If my rhyme was a drug, I'd sell it by the gram."

"If there was a problem, yo, I'll solve it."

Made in England.

Got my Laney head back from the shop. The pimply lackey behind the desk couldn't tell me what the repair man had fixed on it. I just handed over my cash and hoped everything will be OK.

A rather odd pair of symptoms had afflicted my amp: after, say, three-quarters of an hour of rock-hard Squid Ink killer bass lines it would start distorting my sound horribly. And then the amp somehow completely fried the coil on my tasty Altec driver. Damn.

Fingers crossed the amp will no longer distort horribly and blow up my speakers.

If anybody has any 15" drivers lying idle they can sell me then do let me know.