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China is one crazy country. Even before we left Australia, <a href="https://www.google.co.uk/url?sa=t&source=web&cd=1&ved=0CD0QFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.airchina.com%2F&rct=j&q=air%20china&ei=Em8tTsH-H4fOhAfM2bmqCw&usg=AFQjCNGNWJqlHZ88hV2xYX6QjMI1QzFf1Q&cad=rja" target="_blank">air china</a> gave us a taste of the break neck speed 'efficiency' some of the Chinese like to operate on.

Take a listen (or read) to a light hearted and 'cheesy' romantic (and slightly explicit) short story I recently wrote about Doug, who bored in his office cubicle, fantasies about Julie...

Coffee is a very personal business.

According to a list I read some years ago, I regularly use several words in my lexicon that are considered 'old fashioned'. As that list was published nearly ten years ago and I'm still using most of those words, my language must be increasingly old fashioned.

'Concept albums' generally raise the heckles of most rock music reviewers, and an album that contains an 'artistic statement' emblazoned on it's inside front cover in two different languages even more so. It seems that Ember Swift travelled to China in 2007 and felt an unnerving feeling of having been there before, of deja vu and of an unusual one-ness and comfortable familiarity, thus creating the urge and need to write an album about her experiences.

The Thornbury Theatre is one of a growing number of old community centres and theatres around Melbourne that are being turned over from their traditional purpose into the hands of the youth to do what they will with, usually using their opulent interiors to host events that the original attendees would probably greatly object to.

A lot is being said about the Diamond Sea around Melbourne and a lot is being whispered about them in front of the stage tonight. What's wrong with them? Is it the bad and overly loud mix, their seeming lack of acknowledgement of the audience or something else that is reducing their usually sparkling and lively show into a rather dull and listless experience with every song melding into the next with very little dynamics.

Some of the best musical dynamics are created by three-pieces, anyone with half an ounce of musical talent can add sound to the silences with a lot of overdriven noise. Creating a full and interesting sound with the amount of instruments a three piece can potentially play, now that's a real challenge, especially when you stick to pretty much one guitar sound and use overdubs sparingly.It's a talent that a lot of bands from Brisbane seem to possess and have formed into a sound that 'I heart Hiroshima' were one of the first to perfect and popularise in recent times, so it's refreshing to see and hear that several years, one album and extensive touring later, they're still doing it exceedingly well. 'The Rip' is their second album, clocking in at just under 45 minutes, it's a concise, snappy and 'agitated', a wonderfully descriptive description of the album taken from their own press release (a rarity indeed) that sums up the up-and-down dynamics of the songs, like a complex cocktail with many subtle undercurrents that needs a good 'agitating' before serving. A well planned and arranged blend of precise percussion that forms the core of what gives 'I Heart Hiroshima' their sparkling dynamic, no straight and simple rock beats plodding along for three minutes. Layered on top are chugging fuzzy rhythm guitars, chiming, almost keyboard like lead guitars, alternated lead vocal duties, each band member adding their own personality to each track and any vocalist who can make 'yup' contain (seemingly) so much frustrated meaning in 'Got Out' deserves special mention. 'The Rip' is not-so-much beautifully, but appropriately produced in glorious lo-fi by none other than Andy Gill (formerly Gang of Four) who were one of the principal bands to hone this sparse, stripped back genre of music the first time around, so an almost ideal pairing of past and present to create an almost flawless alternative-pop record.

Live albums are always a dangerous affair, many will question releasing one at all, why not a proper studio album, is it a stop gap, a lack of interest or commitment from band or label? Quite often it's more because live albums simply don't sound very good, the quality is shoddy, the playing lax and the whole atmosphere is lost when listening on your home stereo. Fortunately for a hardcore-punk / Metal-ish band like Mammal with an infamously high quality live show, they're usually so damn tight and technically skilled that at least two of the concerns voiced are met, the sound quality is better than some studio based recordings, whoever captured the performance deserves congratulations. The audience sounds large-ish and seems to be enjoying themselves, screaming between and during songs, however some of the inter song introductions from front man Ezekiel Ox should have possibly been left out, being cringely cheesy in places, e.g. 'Sometimes you look around yourself and all is not to your liking, Mammal does this toî, said in a strong Australian accent loses some of it's bite when heard on record, that live, in the midst of a sweaty, raucous show would have been an awesome call to arms.The album also comes with a live DVD which, whilst the technical quality of the video doesn't match the quality of the live audio, goes some way to improving the atmosphere, actually seeing limbs flailing around on and off stage giving a little more atmosphere, though a lingering taste of cheese does unfortunately still hang slightly in the air, which is often a potential problem with a band that takes themselves seriously, it may not always come off that way post event.As a release, 'Vol2 Systematic / Automatic' is a gamble, will it connect with their fan base as the band's press realise so confidently claims? Are fans willing to buy something that they attended anyway, or will they consider it a somewhat flagrant attempt to make money out of them? Mammal like breaking rules, doing things their own way and taking a chance, so from their perspective, it will be a gamble worth taking.

Somewhere along the way in the past few years of his rapid rise, Jamie T has transformed from a charming cheeky London chappy playing anywhere that would take him with only his trusty acoustic bass as company into a cockier (but still fairly charming) world travelling, eternally casual superstar. His past awkward and apologetic inter song banter replaced with the trusty How are you doing insert town name? and I'm going to need help on the next one, you guys ready?.His wordy chatty, monologue, cockney, dylanesque songs are now packed out by a full and loud band that look like they were found ablimg South London streets, the key and complex lyrics sometimes getting somewhat lost in the noise. His newer material which is less original but more suited to a band follows a current trend in British music, attempting to make every song a jagged youth anthem.

'Does it Offend you, yeah?' lively blend of electro Indie rock bombards Billboard and the tightly packed boisterous Wednesday night crowd, not letting up for one minute or allowing a second of breathing space for the crowd or the band.

Someone once said that the reason Melbourne produces so many dark, melancholic and moody bands is due to being 'stranded in a paradise at the end of the Earth, isolated from the rest of the world'. Which is possibly why so many musicians, the Spoils included, run off to seek fame and fortune elsewhere, but does gallivanting off in far-flung shores, acquiring fame and fortune change their music at all?The musicians, and they are real and proper skilful musicians capable of playing just about anything and making it seem astonishingly simple, that make up the Spoils are as varied and diverse as their audience, young, old(er), dressed like 19th Century gentlemen, dressed like American cowboys (and looking a little like Earl Hickey) and a little of everything in between. The Toff is a perfect venue for tonight's show, the venue is quiet, not empty, but full of an appreciative and attentative audience, the high-fidelity sound system installed allowing everyone to concentrate on all the nuances, subtleties and weaving melodies in the music. During the faster and more abrasive songs, the crowd begins to move and sway, but generally they are relaxed, leaning, crouching or seated, eyes fixed firmly forward, taking it all in and enjoying the skills and talents of the band to construct such absorbing melodies and rhythms.Tonight's show is a mixture of celebration and commiserations; it is the launch of their third album ('The Crook, the cloak and the maiden'), the final show with their saxophonist and two weeks before the band depart for another lengthy European jaunt, including their seemingly second home of France.<br>A band like the Spoils are an epitome of Melbourne (and Australian) bands, astounding musicians, hard working, professional, productive and full of universal appeal unyet in their home town they are playing a venue the size of the Toff (i.e. small) and have to constantly embark on lengthy and expensive tours to amass any kind of fan base or money. Bearing that in mind, looks like the melancholic, downbeat music of frustrated Melbourne musicians sunning themselves in the glorious summer heat wont be changing any time soon.

What's going on in Sydney? Are there copious amounts of young men mating with drum machines, synthesizers and 80's dropouts? The city seems to be spawning a lot of electro bands recently that generally favour epic, fantastical sounding names and presentation.

Unless listless inmates around the world have been ganging together and forming bands, 'Convict-Core' could only really come from Australia and it would be safe to assume that it would sound like something of a mish-mash of the influences upon Australia's history. With these assumptions in hand The Currency's mix of high octane Celtic folk blended with Anglo Punk will come as no surprise. The Currency's live shows are legendary, it takes very little time for crowds to be pulled into the melodic maelstrom, grabbing friends and strangers and pulling them into a frenzied mosh pit of flailing limbs and hair, booze flowing freely in all directions. Whilst this debut album lacks the pure energy of the band's awesome live shows, the inter-twinning battling flutes, fiddles, mandolins and a plethora of other instruments will cause embarrassing toe-tapping, head jiggling and humming on public transport or at your workplace. The energy of the music aside, the stories contained within the songs are enticing and compelling, whilst there may not always be a conventional narrative, you pay attention to and follow the lyrics. By sticking to edgier themes of Australian life such as drought, workers rights, colonialism, the struggles of a young nation and tales of woe and regret The Currency manage to inject just enough 'Australiana' into their lyrics without sounding cringworthy or potentially alienating a global audience, maintaining an edgy, dangerous, dark and brooding brand of folk music to drown your sorrows to with beer, whisky and dancing until the early hours of the morning. Don't buy one copy, buy several and send one to anyone you know overseas and hopefully we'll inform the rest of the world that we're not just a nation of bleached-blonde surfers.

Bones are an archetypal Melbourne band, all skinny men, tight trousers, cool looking guitars and discordant noise. There's dozens of them out there pounding the boards at Inner city venues night in and night out, but Bones posses a little extra 'Je ne sais quoi' to raise them above the rest of the throng. In amongst the messy noise and jagged edges are some amazing harmonies and crazy off beat guitar riffs that are so surprising they make you sit up, take notice and even start to smile.Damn Terrain are a man down, their bass player 'sucksî (according to the band's singer and guitarist) and despite their best efforts it notices. Both remaining members are putting in 110% to fill in the gaps but it still doesn't quite grab the crowd who begin drifting out to smoke and hang around the Tote's (now saved!) jukebox.There's something about bands from Western Australia, whether due to geographical frustrations or the lack of anything better to do, WA bands are typically extremely proficient, tight, professional and possess amazing stage presences, Will Stoker and the Embers do nothing to dispel this stereotype. The band have a strange dynamic, Will Stoker looking like a cross between Jeff Buckley and David Boreanaz but with crazier hair, eccentrically dressed he is the classic image of an Art school student. The rest of the band however are all out hard rockers through and through, long hair, amp stacks, black clothes and lumberjack shirts. You can imagine the band starting out, meeting this enigmatic front man and all saying, 'he's crazy but it might just work'. The gamble was a good one because Will Stoker & the Embers are an extremely unique act, the combination of hard rock and eccentricity creating an awesome and entrancing bravado as Will flings himself around the venue through a sequence of bizarre dance moves, leg wobbling and posing, backed by a band as solid and loud as they come. The crowd is mesmerised, they barely move, captivated by the spectacle before them, a show possessing quality that usually has come a long way.

Grafton Primary possesses an eclectic fan base, drawing in an increasing amount of musical sub genres, uniting them for fleeting moments in one room. Taking up centre ground are the chattering fashionistas, eyeing each other up and comparing clothing brands. Bang in front of the stage are an unruly bunch of mainstream-esque dance fans, jostling for space, hassling photographers and generally annoying most around them. Hanging around at the back are groups of lesbian punks and lurking in dark corners are gaggles of old school 80's Goths, the breadth and contradictory nature of the bands fan base also sums up the band and their music. An equally strange combination of retro electro, dark layered moods and modern rhythmic aggression is executed with flawless precision, perfectly suiting our era's obsession of regurgitating the past into gleaned pastiches.

I'm old enough to remember the great laments aired when vinyl started to die it's still ensuing slow death, how would musicians and their artists still be able to shrink their exquisite works of art down from a whopping 12" to XX CD inlays. Well, unsurprisingly they coped, they managed, they learnt new tricks and still created a mixed bag of wondrous masterpieces and piles of crap. There have been some classic Album covers that I feel wouldn't have even worked on vinyl. Radioheads' 'OK Computer' is one example, pop out the CD holder and you find a wealth of extra art lurking beneath the surface. Not forgetting cardboard covers, flexipacks and a wealth of DIY efforts that were far simplified by the smaller size of a CD. CD bodies themselves also offer an extra surface for artwork that previously never existed, not to mention those more adventurous musicians who add bonus material through the extended CD format.

A license is not required to ride a bike on Melbourne's (and most other cities in the world as far as I know) streets and sometimes knowing quite what you are allowed and not allowed to do or indeed what others should be doing around you is difficult to ascertain.

I finally got my fist experience(s) of Australian festivals this summer, albeit a gentle one-day only festival introduction and I hate to say I wasn't greatly impressed.

I find this small collection of images documenting London's derelict underbelly appealing for two reasons. I know the author from his days as an Indie label 'boss' and the fact that he turned to a successful sideline in snapping pictures of abandoned buildings is fascinating. Secondly a lot of the subjects within the book are familiar to me, sometimes in the same state as within the book and sometimes in their previous non-dilapidated state.

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I&#39;ve been intending to write this for months, but never quite got around to it, a theme that will run through this article? I was also quite proud of the piece and was hoping I might be able to get it published, but alas, no joy in that area and as I say above, it&#39;s content is long overdue.

Umberto Eco is often a difficult read, he has a tendency to take a really good (semi-fictional) plot and wrap in a lot of intellectual posturing that can become annoying and fundamentally far too distracting to continue reading. I am well aware of his vices and whilst I frequently have no idea what he is talking about I still really enjoying reading his books and would even list him as one of my favourite authors. The Island of the Day before is perhaps one of Umberto Eco's easiest reads with a fairly simple plot by his standards and enough beautifully written descriptions and prose to cope with a relatively small amount of intellectual discussion. The story tells of a young noble in the 17th century who gets abandoned on a mysterious ship in an unknown location and his (and the western world's) coming to grips with discovering new worlds, sciences and cultures whilst attempting to cling on to the familiar, mystical and old world. A wonderful read with a lead character that you will love, despise, support and become frustrated with throughout the book.

Whilst I do not believe in God by any means and would certainly describe myself as an Atheist, my biggest issue with 'The God Delusion' is what Richard Dawkins would describe as his 'Devout Atheism'. The fervour and passion he writes with is almost on a par with that of a religion devotees and thus at times is equally as awkward to digest. Perhaps it could also be due to a conditioning of our modern world he describes, in that we feel awkward discussing religious topics in public, in case we offend someone around us, even when reading the book I found myself occasionally hiding the title in front of possible 'religious types' in case I offended them. The book is generally easy to read and full of intriguing, interesting and thought provoking topics and nuggets of information only occasionally wandering into intellectual territory that may be lost on some readers.

Michael Franti appears to be something of an institution in Australia, possessing a modicum of popularity in most of the world but verging on something else on our far flung shores, acting like a shaman and appointed leader for the current or reformed hippies, crusties and ferrals. It takes a rare talent and presence to grasp the crowd in the palm of your hand and inspire them into singing along with every word you utter, to have them clapping and dancing to every beat from the opening notes and first word of your first song, and appropriately, that first word was 'hello' in several languages. To then keep the vast majority of the crowd hanging on to every word you say, responding to every local reference, dancing and screaming on demand and spontaneously for the entire set in some kind of cult-like fervor with hidden subconscious messages flowing through the crowd is an even larger achievement, Michael Franti manages it with the greatest of ease and this is only an acoustic set!The set is bursting with simple and effective songs about peace, love and understanding, covering politics, community and harmony, no-one is left out, every race and subculture is mentioned for good measure in Franti's rapid fire lyrics, perfect topics for a full-to-the-brim venue on the seaside with the evening feeling a little like a holiday camp with Michael Franti as chief red coat leading proceedings.Some would accuse Michael Franti of verging on the cheesy side and of producing the occasional cringe on the more discerning music fan's face. Cast your aspersions and cynicisms aside, for a performer who produces such warm fuzzy feel good feelings, for a performer that creates music that makes everyone feel good and leave their problems aside, Michael Franti can't be faulted.

For a band with a career that has spanned nearly 30 years, The Stranglers look in remarkably good shape. Despite the drugs, the changes in musical direction, losing their original singer, losing their original singer's replacement, the good albums and the frankly abysmal albums, the band are still standing strong with some of their original line up and a back catalogue full of catchy and familiar songs. Most importantly, the band looks damn good on stage, resplendent in uniform black. Bassist JJ Burnell is built like a tank, the veins on his neck showing above a tight muscle hugging t-shirt as he pumps out his familiar 'barracuda bass' sound. 'New' recruit Baz Warne on guitar and vocals provides more than enough spit and bile necessary to deliver the songs of the Stranglers, whilst, cool as ever, Dave Greenfield delivers some of the most memorable and recognisable keyboard lines from the 70's and 80's one handed as he sups his way through the contents of a personal bar. Most notably, The Stranglers stage show is so un-complicated for a band of their size, no road crew constantly adjusting things, no constant swapping of guitars, no fathing about, just tune after tune delivered with a consistent high energy and professionalism.

The Hives are past masters at staging a rock show, working their way through all of the tricks in 'Rock Live shows for beginners', the vast majority of 'Rock live shows for intermediates' and making fair headway into the advanced volume. Even before the band take to the stage we have subdued red lighting, a vast backdrop and a tremendous amount of 'milking it' as the crowd gets rowdier awaiting the band's emergence.

The Byzantine Empire was a long forgot segment of Mediterranean History that seems to be undergoing something of a rediscovery recently. I'm unsure why it's history seemed to slip down the back of the rhetorical sofa as it's certainly a most tumultuous and colourful history full of victory, disaster, insane characters, powerful characters and the usual battles, religious turmoil and tales that accompany any medieval history. This is a summarised version of John Julius Norwich's three volume Byzantine history and he does a remarkable job of covering a thousand years of history in a clear, concise and engaging manner, never dull, never losing momentum and with a pace almost worthy of fiction as you look forward to reading further to see what happens next.

So I guess you'll just have to wait

My Nan died recently so for obvious reasons I've been thinking about Death a fair bit. Death in the family has never been something that has emotionally bothered me a great deal, probably due to me having a small family, my Mum dying at a young age and being brought up to celebrate life, not spen time mourning things that cannot be changed. The things that do bother me about death is the vulture like swooping of various parties after the event and the sudden deconstruction of someone's life. I feel very awkward discussing estates, possessions, value and legalities, to me it feels disrespectful. One of my earliest memories of this is after the funeral of my Mum's Dad when all the family descended on his house to divvy up the possessions with gleams in their eyes. I know all these things have to be discussed and sorted out, but everyone seems to so keen to bring the issue up whilst assuring you they're very sorry about what happened, much like in the antiques roadshow when you know all everyone is waiting to find out from the experts is an items 'insurance value'.