This is a book with no filler or footnote guff. It could be easily twice as thick. Moon was just that mad and managed to do so much. Most of it absolutely hilarious. There even is a section dedicated to the legend that he drove a Rolls Royce into a hotel Swimming Pool. It’s almost a moot point. He’s done so much it should almost be a footnote in a career of pranks, decadence and destruction.

Insights from assistants, band mates and family. He was a tricky, troubled and dark man. But legend has it, all the fun in your life, was a week of Moon’s life. This book basically attests to that in detail.

Rock probably never will have someone as complex, eccentric and plain hilarious as Mr Moon. Plenty will try and go mad doing so. But I recommend the safer option of reading this manifesto over plenty of drinks. An incredibly well written book. Which all started with the author’s boyhood contact with Moon. I’ll let you read that for yourself!

Yes Wyman was the bass player of the Rolling Stones. Which may explain why he wrote his book 20 years before anyone else. Considering he’s allegedly shagged more girls than physically possible and married a girl 40 years younger than him, he wasn’t lacking for subject matter. So why the hell does he keep telling you about office telegrams and bank balances? He has a fully journalised recollection of life on the road with the stones. But I

This book would be of interest of anyone that is a major Brian Jones fan. But that’s like saying crack is awesome if you aspire to being a homeless whore on borrowed time. He gives an interesting insight into Jones, who Keef had written off completely as an unreliable prima donna. However Brian had such affection for him that his book is almost entirely dedicated to the Jones era finishing around 1969. This was a bloke who was in the band until the early nineties(?). So clearly he tagged along for 20 years with clearly nil interest in the band. Makes you wonder.

If there was anything I got out of this book, it was don’t ever read anything written by a bass player – slight caveat for Lemmy or Nikki Sixx. They are accountants and gantt chart warriors, each and every one of them. Please I urge you, don’t bother. Leave it on the shelf. He’s a great bass player and accountant. That’s entirely the problem.

For all these reasons, it pains me to write this. It sucks. Yes I can play my iTunes on shuffle and not hear the same track for two weeks. It still doesn’t change the fact I haven’t heard most of it. The vast majority of it. And once you get past the point of acquiring, quickly comes the delete stage. Worse still, every time I pop open iTunes for a quick blat, Apple diligently tell me I need to upgrade like some prefect in a private school hallway. Oh and all the other programs I never asked for like MobileMe and Quicktime. Now even the Safari web browser! Whatever is in the Apple product pipeline is going to get downloaded every time I want to hear a 2 minute Ramones song!

Oh and once you’ve lost your music collection to a Windows fail, you recreate it, fix up all the ‘untitled song 1′, get all the cover art back and organise, you may as well have learnt the Dewey Decimal System and become a proper librarian. But no you’ve got a masters in dicking about on your PC for no good reason.

I think I have opened Pandora’s shit box. I don’t know if having 120 CDs of metal covers for the one good one is actually worth it (of course it is but you know…). It has become far easier to flick some vinyl on the turn table than click a track. It’s a sound you either get or you don’t. The album artwork was designed for 12″. Before the nineties at least, the order of the tracks was meant to be heard one side at a time. If I want to know the song name, I watch the label that’s spinning around, usually at 33 RPMs. Vinyl – it’s not just the genesis, it’s the new beginning. I love it.

Am I missing something? Well no. CDs are an affront to everything that is music. Those crappy little jewel cases that always break, they scratch way easier than records and just have no charm or warmth to the sound whatsoever. I have a moving box full of them I haven’t bothered to unpack in years. I dare say I’m not the only one. Like all good technology, they are obsolete. But worse than that, irrelevant. I hate them.

And so from one good addiction to another I go. From vino to vinyl but forever the dorky aficionado.

Like Lemmy Kilmister mentions, the Beatles were actually quite hard, and the Stones relatively posh art school twats from London. Despite this though, Mr Richards does talk about living in council flats in a dodgy part of Kent, in the south of England. A part that manifested nothing but fog and thievery. Mr Jagger lived up the road in posher digs. Nonetheless they from a very early age were kindred spirits and this book gives a dazzlingly clear insight into their early years. There are some great insights into London in the late sixties/early seventies. Like government supplied heroin and pharmaceutical cocaine.

What truly is amazing though Mr Richards really has lived Exile on Main St. Living in the poshest digs everywhere from France to Jamaica, or basically anywhere that would have them, before putting him up on trumped up drug charges. The book is a dazzling insight into what it’s like to be totally displaced by fame and drug addiction. Yes there were a few skint years, but the Stones took off in a few years, and in a big way. Clearly it’s all but impossible for a rock and roll band to do this now. By rock and roll I don’t mean Lady Gaga of Justin Beiber.

Oh yes and the drugs. There’s plenty of talk of that. But surprisingly Keith has been off the opiates for quite some time. Whole years spent in Morocco doing the finest hash, the obligatory smack here and there, you name it. In fact many rumours are quashed in this book. Some even verified! Perhaps it’s a deny 70% admit to 30% and you look OK kind of deal. Who knows. Throughout the drug addled experiences though Keith is cognizant in his writing as it gets. Almost reminds me of a Hunter S Thompson.

Perhaps most intriguing is the insight into why people take the smack. Keith reckoned it was to help him focus for days on end, getting a sound in the studio. Half his life was spent chasing it, running from it or getting in bed for it. Interesting. So too the stories about his band mates. Or quite often the lack of them. Thought he’d have a lot more to say about Charlie, Bill Wyman and Mick Taylor. But these stories are kept laconic to say the least. Most talked about are Mick and Brian Jones – who apparently was a mean bastard.

Worth mentioning too is that what makes the end of the book so land is that it’s talking about the breakdown of his relationship with Mick Jagger. I don’t read Hello Weekly and found all that to be horseshit, whiny minutia. The rest is absolutely brilliant though. Well worth checking out.

Dilettantes took a lot longer to get in the blood. But once you see the boys play it, it really grabbed you by the cahones the way a You Am I album bloody well should. Maybe they just didn’t try hard enough? This album carries on the laid back, avante garde, possibly stripped down vibe of Dilettantes but has more depth. Side A seems to blend in with stuff off the last album, even Damage from Dress Me Slowly which all gels nicely. But the real stand out songs are when you flip the record over. The Ocean has a real simmering stoner rock meets Brian Wilson and the Beach Boys feel. Trigger Finger, with one of many guest female vocalist appearances is an absolute gem.

Davey Lane plays solos with such grace and restraint that in my mind he’s now a poster child for proper lead guitarists. Easily his best work with You Am I to date. Strangely though for an album that sounds so masterful and coherent, Tim Rogers talks of ’sending tapes’ to Davey by post to work out licks for the album. It doesn’t sound like it at all. While purposefully not an all out rockin’ album of flannelette and pent up fuck you-ness (remember Convicts anyone?) I’d argue it’s one of their best. Hopefully all that lament they had for not being able to better Hourly Daily is over and they can put out more albums like this.

On that note however, this album was almost not put out at all. The self management/distribution that You Am I have embarked on has been an absolute Mongolian cluster fuck of the highest order.  Despite PRE ordering the album and digital copy about October 21 from their web site, it wasn’t delivered until about December 20. That delivery date was only met because after I requested a refund if they couldn’t fulfill the order that week.  I dare say that given an email was sent approximately 6 weeks into the debacle confirming whether we’d received our records yet, I was not the only one. Moreover the digital copy I’d purchased was not available until the album was released. Their web site made it look like you’d get it immediately for download. But there was only one sample track available for about 10 days.

If there was a lesson learnt, Tim leave the money making and corporate stuff to Gene Simmons. You guys are clearly not cut out or resourced well enough for it. Yes Gene’s a schmuck, but he would’ve licked all the stamps personally to get those records out on time. He would have at least given some sort of freebie to at least acknowledge the piss poor co-ordination on a bungled album release. But from this band, not one word. A total stonewall. Pretty disappointing.

Pro-ject do a seriously great looking, well made turntable.

A word of warning to anyone that’s not yet an audiophile – turntables are a gateway drug for more addictive high quality audio equipment! In the past I’ve been a bit pragmatic and cheap with audio gear. But there comes a point when you can’t be bothered with bargain basement, consumer stuff from your national chain department store. Or perhaps you don’t like the look of some gaudy plastic black box in your flash living room. With its tacky, mass produced digital screen flashing useless information at you with all the subtlety of a Bangkok strip bar. Forget that. It’s not my thing! It will only last you until your next eBay purge or council hard rubbish day.

Pro-ject turntables are a whole new frontier. They are not gaudy and they are definitely not cheap.  Their cheapest turntable is approx $500 and you don’t get much for your money on paper. My Debut III turntable comes in red base and an Ortofon cartridge or ‘needle’ (I don’t know much about turntables). I think the base is made of MDF, not even wood (the wood models cost a lot more). It doesn’t even have a button to select between 45 and 33 speeds! There’s no automatic on/off for the record. So you get that ‘ca-chunk, ca-chunk, ca-chunk…’ once the record finishes playing until you stop it.

What you do get though is absolute quality. The finish is flawless and the quality of the whole arm and needle is amazing. It reaks of something you would give to your grand kids. Just by looking at it, you know it’s made in Austria. Whichever way you look at it, this is not mass produced rubbish.

Unfortunately this model doesn’t come with a phono stage. This is like a pre-amp thing specifically designed to amplify signals from a turntable into your amp. The Pro-ject phono stages range anywhere from $200 to $2000 for valve based units.  One of the more entry level phono stages has USB out, which you can use for playback and recording vinyls through your computer. This is what I’m using right now and it works and sounds great. The Debut III does come in a range of colours which really works too, well except for the lime green!

While I can’t recommend this unit highly enough, it is basic. So if you do need to play records at different speeds or need a few more features, then you’re going to need to spend a lot more money. Considering I set out to buy an old Bang and Olufsen Beogram turntable, this is a brand new turntable and costs about what I was going to spend on that anyway (the B&O is at least 20 years old).

If you don’t already like premium audio gear, be warned. This is the ganja of the audio drug world and this will suck you into the expensive and narcotic world of premium audio!

If you are in the market for one…

I got mine from Encel Stereo in Richmond and they were absolutely fantastic. If they didn’t have it in stock (they have most of the range), it was only a few days away. They gave great prices and set the whole thing up.

I wish I could say the same about Secher Audio. They gave me a 2006 brochure, took my deposit, forgot to order the unit in (it sounded like it anyway), then found out after three weeks of leading me on that they couldn’t get it in stock because of some alledged dispute with the supplier. All the time never returning phone calls, not once!  I must have called them at least 10 times. At least they refunded my money. They might be better with very high end stuff, but sadly I can’t recommend them based on this transaction.

The movie really delivers with legendary stories, cliches, rockers and hangers on in the scene. It’s more a bar room yarn than a doco of say Nick Broomfield standard (who produced Kurt and Courtney and Biggie and Tupac). Nor does it geniunely consolidate Lemmy as a hero in the way the Ramones doco or Julian Temple’s movies have (Filth and the Fury and the Joe Strummer one).  All this could be forgiven though. It’s a celebration of Lemmy as a top bloke and a great musician. Nothing more, nothing less. On that premise, it’s OK and I’d see it again any time.

What cannot be forgiven though is the quality of the print that they screened in Melbourne. The aspect ratio was all wrong, so all the titles on screen got cut off! The quality of the video was like Youtube on the big screen. For $17.50 cinema prices, you expect a full quality print. Not something that looks like a dodgy download. It was a packed out screening and I don’t think we were the only ones disappointed at the quality. It felt like a really, really bad way of paying back fans for their patience when this movie could’ve gone straight to DVD a year ago.  Thanks for nothing MIFF!

Lemmy will screen again on August the 4th 2010. More details on the Lemmy Movie at MIFF.

Last night Melbourne’s Arthouse Hotel was nicely packed out with quiff hair styles and hot rod heels on stunning looking rocker girls resembling the ultimate 1950’s librarian fantasy. If this gig is anything to go by, the Rockabilly scene in Melbourne is burgeoning and god bless it. The mosh was full of familiar friendly faces. And for what may look like an all out fist fight in the most is just good fun fist banter.

Despite the mohawks and barrel chested tall boys that would scare you shitless in a dark alley, toes are stepped on people shoved and even beer spilt. But everyone is friendly and nothing turns ugly. A good night is had by all because thankfully this is a cool scene made up of very cool people. There’s something really funny about a six foot something greaser standing at the edge of a mosh, barely moving as he’s pushed and shoved. All the time balancing his stubby, with his back to the band as if nothing’s happening.

Sure enough as lactic acid seeps its way into every sore muscle of my post mosh body, the Kingswoods did rock. Lyndsey had some wireless guitar cord conception that was awfully modern for the 1950s. But nonetheless it allowed him to romp through the crowd and even jump on my mate Ben’s shoulders for an impromptu off stage piggy back – whilst playing! These guys play good, sweaty raw rock and roll and get a good fan fare doing so.

It seems at least half the mosh know these guys personally. But its the rough as guts Aussie Tinged rock that got them out on a Friday night, not simply helping a mate. Well adept at audience participation, half way through the set, a punter brings three Sambuca shots to the stage in what seems a familiar ritual to the band. It wasn’t the only time the band to and froed with the audience.  This is a band well worth checking out. If nothing else for the colourful tunes and the aesthetic.

You can find out more about the guys here on Facebook.

A fine array of Epiphone Dots. Mine is the colour on top.

This post is prompted by the several guitar store visits where there are many of these models getting around. My model is a Korean made version about 6 years old. I bought mine new and have been very, very happy with it despite its natural yellow, urine like finish. It cost me about $1200 Australian Dollars, which is significantly more than what newer models are going for now. Especially the Dot Studio that goes for around $600.

Now we get to the short and skinny. These sub $1000 versions seem to be made in either China or Indonesia or somewhere. They definitely look the business, but they don’t sound it. I tried a Chinese one out the other day and it totally lacked character. So my advice to you if you want a cheap, quality and versatile guitar look out for the Korean Epiphones from the early noughties. Like the early Ibanez guitars of the seventies, they really rock for comparitively little cash to a real Gibson.

For those not in the know, the Epiphone Dot is a cheaper version of the Gibson ES335 – the Chuck Berry guitar. Its sister guitar is the Epiphone Casino which John Lennon played (They look the same but the construction is more like an acoustic guitar). It’s a semi acoustic with big beautiful F-holes and it’s a big heavy lug that makes a Les Paul look compact. Despite its size, it rewards you with a big, sweet sound and awesome tonal versatility. You can go light and funky or super heavy as you wish, all on the one guitar.

Quite literally Johnson have time-lined his life in cars. There’s plenty of highs and lows. From lights randomly popping out of his Lotus to the abject misery of owning anything made by British Leyland. There’s the odd insight into life on the road. Whether it’s bunking on the tour bus or being chauffeured around Europe in an executive limo in style. His band mates don’t make it out unscathed either and there’s plenty of falling in love on the road. Only with British convertibles and not slutty groupies.

It’s full of short, funny (some very funny) and punchy anecdotes. Via cars, he manages to leave no part of his life unscathed and that’s what’s truly miraculous and perhaps why Johnson decided to go this route for his biography – and it does work. There’s a sense that as a standard biography it would be too tight lipped and laconic. No question he has no problem opening up over some put banter about his cars though. But sadly it kind of lacks substance. Honestly I read this book cover to cover in three days. A decent reader could easily do it in a night. Not to Johnson’s detriment. This is a fantastic read. If only it could be longer.