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Entering a gig and feeling young compared to the majority of the audience is an increasingly rare experience for some reviewers and tonight's Rubber Records 20th Birthday Party ranks highly in one of those experiences. Most of the acts on tonight's impressive bill had their heydays in the 90's, so again, if you weren't in Australia in the 90's a lot of the cultural reference points may be somewhat lost on you. With nearly twenty bands across two rooms there's a lot to pack in and as almost expected at such ambitious affairs, everything's running late. The Grapes play a set of nice melodic tunes with Sherry Rich on acoustic guitar proving smooth vocals with a hint of living and Ashley Naylor on electric guitar adding a little too much fret board noddling to the point of distraction. Heading into the main room The Casanovas are on earlier than expected and thus playing to less people than expected, their old school Oz-Rock landing upon the ears of a half full room, new songs are aired and go down well, but the audience isn't quite ready to commit to any of the crowd surfing or head banging that perhaps the band needs to be fully appreciated. Hot Little hands are by far the youngest and (perhaps because of their youth) most vibrant band on tonight's bill, the band and their fans looking completely out of place amongst the throngs of aging rockers. Their music is fresh, different and the highlight of the night. Even take to the stage looking like a bunch of everyone's favourite ('cool') uncles, the purveyors of highly successful alternative rock in the 90's; it takes the band a little while to warm up. Their music lacks the edge it used to possess but most of the rapidly filling room are enjoying reliving their youth and when the band are joined by Vince from the Underground Lovers proceedings really move up a notch, once a few special guests are reeled out it really feels like a party! Codrazine end the night, the entire band resplendent in a highly appropriate uniform of black, the band are a more downbeat end to the night, but were something of a labour of love for the owners of Rubber Records and with the band recently announcing something of a reunion planned, an upbeat joining of past and future for the label.

Dr Invisiablo either play incredibly complex music and make it look ridiculously simple or they play incredibly simple music and give the impression that it's incredibly complex. Either way their blend of highly arranged Punk-Pop-Hard-Rock is highly effective with all members firing on full cylinders, drummer Adam Pedretti particularly intimidating the audience with his ability to let rip insanely amazing drum patterns with ease. Tonight is only a two band bill so Dr Invisiablo have plenty of time to show us what their made of and at no time during their set (not even with an Elvis cover) do they detour into dullsville, supplying this quiet Wednesday night with a band worth keeping an eye on.<br>The Assassination Collective remain one of the nosiest, shambolic and chaotic bands in Melbourne but have been uncharacteristically quiet of late, presumably with a raft of 'other commitments' getting in the way of shows. Or perhaps taking time out to observe the new government in order to craft a fresh batch of charged political anthems regarding the 'change'. This month long residency gives the band an opportunity to showcase a handful of new numbers as well as let rip with a few old favourites. The 'Collective' in the bands name is appropriately descriptive of what to expect at a show, all members (Excluding Simon on Bass) swapping and interchanging instruments every few songs, injecting an element of differing character into each line up and song. It also leads to a slightly messy set as booze and confusion reigns supreme, resulting in the impression that no one is really sure what is supposed to happen next and equally that no one really cares as long as there's some noise and alcohol involved. The most enjoyable thing about an Assassination collective show is that for a most random looking bunch of individuals, for the amount of noise they make, for the amount of screaming and shouting, for the amount of gear and band members, for the amount of Politics and social commentary in their songs, is that they manage to get any gigs at all, but thank God they do, Melbourne needs them.

Living within the European focussed world view that many of us have had instilled into us from an early age it is often hard to forget that there are and were highly developed civilisations besides the Europeans, and the Europeans weren't necessarily always the first to achieve or discover things. In 1421 Gavin Menzies sets out a believable hypothesis that the first nation to 'discover' and 'chart' the rest of the world outside of their own locality was the Chinese and not those who we're led to believe such as Columbus and Magellan. He also sets out many pieces of evidence to show that China had a tremendous level of contact and influence on many nations around the world including the Aboriginals, Maori, Native Americans, African nations and more. The final strand of his hypothesis goes on to show that the European explorers were actually in possession of Chinese maps before they set out into the 'unknown'. Perhaps the most fascinating elements of the book is realising how advanced the Chinese were, long before the rest of the world, in terms of technology, trade and attitude (there are no cases of Chinese slaughtering native races for no reason) and the shear scale of their operations, showing that the Chinese wielding massive power and potential is nothing new. The fact that China has only recently come out of the self imposed insularity it commenced in 1421 (thus drawing to a close it's exploration and trading empires) makes this a very current and apt book. Gavin Menzies style is extremely enthusiastic, he is clearly passionate about his subject, he repeats himself a lot and his somewhat amateurish writing style sometimes grates, some waffling aside though, this is a truly fascinating read that makes you question a lot of what we believe and hold true in European society.

Cycling is experiencing a worldwide renaissance and Melbourne is no exception with sales of bikes out stripping cars by a scale of six. Wether it be environmental, health or practical reasons, cyclists are rapidly becoming a consumer and user group large enough to start making some demands. So here's a short wish list to make any keen Melbourne cyclists life a little better, and frankly, in these days of environmental crisis, a little more valued in the part we play in doing the world a favour.

Perhaps the closest reference point to Douglas Coupland for those of you unfamiliar with his work is Kurt Vonnegut, a reference point that I'm sure Douglas Coupland hears frequently. If you're unfamiliar with either's work then I guess the best description would be, 'different' or maybe 'hyper real', characters sort of shamble through in a state of confusion that no one else suffers from with odd occurrences happening to them that no one else considers odd. JPod is a book about and aimed at Geeks, there are a lot of references in the text to computers, Geek culture and attitudes that may be lost on those unfamiliar with them, whilst this wont detract from the plot, Jokes will certainly be missed. JPod also makes a habit of inserting lots of random pages into the book, some relevant, some a complete waste of tree, for example over 60 pages filled with numbers involved in games that the characters play with each other whilst at work, a nice character building device, but a waste of paper. A funny and easy read (this took me a week and I don't have a lot of time to read in my life) full of accurate and amusing observations, but one that will be lost on many people.

One bright sunny day I stepped out on to Sydney rd in Brunswick to be greeted by a surprising and pleasurable sight, no cars! It was Moreland Council's first Cyclovia, with one of Melbourne's busiest, cramped and most hectic roads open only to bikes, pedestrians and public transport for several hours.

It's hard to effectively review a guide to cycle paths in South East Queensland when you're stuck in Melbourne with no chance of attempting them anytime soon. The guide produced by Bicycling Australia is exceptionally well produced and thought out with ring bound easy to clean laminated pages for those journeys where your hands spend more time fiddling with oily parts than on the handlebars. There are 47 rides spread across Brisbane, the Gold Coast and the Sunshine Coast to keep you busy for many months to come, all with detailed guides to road surfaces, terrain types, distances and a difficulty rating.

Hey Mr C, how you? Yes, it's been too long, I'm very well thank-you. I've Mainly been finishing Capital, releasing the 'This Gun' EP and trying to get my live gigging self shipshape for next year. Had a struggle with lineups and lack of rehearsal time but it's coming together now and it'll be an ace year.

In another example of Western governments unable to comprehend why their populations are dead set on destroying themselves in a wave of hedonism or violence, and instead of attempting to understand the motivations behind this they instead restrict them every way possible with an ever increasing amount of legislation. In its infinite wisdom the Victorian state government has decided to follow Queensland and introduce a 2am lockout in the CBD in an effort to curb late night violence.

Kids are looking younger, reviewers are feeling older, fake ID's are getting better or a combination of all of the above, but the extremely enthusiastic crowd at The Palace tonight looks exceedingly youthful and full of vim, vigour and exuberance.<br>The Getaway Plan's guitarist has an uncanny and highly skilled knack of playing his guitar extraordinarily frantically whilst giving the impression that it's stuck to him, his black plank barely moving a millimetre from his body. The band are obviously flavour of the month amongst the kids as for a first on band they have an impressively large and receptive crowd for their contemporary blend of Pop, Rock and 'Metal-lite', arms are in the air, bodies are pulsating and it's not even 9pm.<br>The Donnas are the odd band out on tonight's bill, the most experienced and proficient band of the night, they describe themselves as stuck in the middle of a (pleasant) 'Man Sandwich'. However they are also completely different musically from the rest of the line up, their American style Pop-Punk-Rock standing starkly aside from The Getaway Plan and Kisschassy, an odd choice of support, they are also the only non-local band and it shows. The crowd like them, but don't love them, enthusiasm wanes and their American sheen and excessively flattering inter song patter jars with a fair few in the crowd, it feels a little forced and possibly even somewhat fake. The sceptical in the crowd are equally matched by the faithful and as the set reaches its close a random pair of knickers finds its way onto the stage, bemusing the band and confusing the crowd as everyone ponders that near impossible process once more.<br>On the other side of the Melbourne man sandwich comes Kisschassy, and boy do they put on a good show. The lights are in full swing, the band sound and look great, everyone's into the music and emotions are running high. Whether the band would describe themselves or their music as 'Emo' or whatever that cursed word even means is unsure, but we have a room brimming with youthful abandon, everywhere you look lyrics are being mouthed along with, lyrics chock full of connotations from across the emotional spectrum, song after song of angst ridden rock charges these kids full of hormones and adrenalin, kids who feel they or the world around them has issues that are being ignored, a generation sold, sold to, given everything, given nothing, tested, restricted, tossed around and emotionally neglected, this is their music and they show it.

A bitterly cold winter's Sunday is a hard night to stage a gig and expect a crowd to venture out into the wild winds. However Manchester Lane seems to be everyone's perfect choice to evade the inclement weather outside, there is a constant to-ing and fro-ing of waiting staff from the Kitchen, the bar is busy with clanking glasses and the venue is nigh on full with an enthusiastic and appreciative audience chatting in these highly civilised surrounds. Laura Jean and the Eden Land Band more appear on stage quietly and collectively than take to it, a motley collective of bass, drums, violin, clarinet and a pair of legs dangling behind the stage's vast grand piano. Despite Laura's protestations to life being hard as a 'Folk' musician and quips about confidence issues, (apparently unbeknown to her) she has the room in the palm of her hands, with all sat staring at her attentively, hanging on to every breathy vocal, every luscious intertwining melody and haunting hook. The set is a hypnotic series of beautiful arrangements, crescendos rising, harmonies building and falling, a seemingly complex patchwork of brilliantly played instruments by permanently bemused but skilled musicians.<br>Pikelet is and has always been hard to place, her solo shows can take some getting used to, as she sets up songs and builds to sometimes ear splittingly layered musical peaks through an ingenious combination of gadgets and dusty old instruments. The thought of her with a backing band is a tempting one, an opportunity to take her involved arrangements and spread them out between other musicians, leading to more spacious and fluid songs. However her backing band tonight is not the anticipated stage full of people with a plethora of instruments but two lanky fellows, one on a drum kit of sorts and the other behind an increasing array of gizmos, instruments and sounds. When the 'band' takes the opportunity to really kick in suddenly Pikelet's songs come vibrantly alive with a renewed groove and freshness that can only be added by a gang of musicians gelling toether. These opportunities are few with the majority of the set simply Pikelet, her intriguing methods of accompanying herself and her strange stage manner. The moments when she is most engaging and her talent for witty melodies really shines through are when it really is just her, a powerful solo voice, a solo instrument, her unique phrasing and her eccentrically haunting songs.

Whilst descending the Hifi's mysterious winding staircase The Shake up grab you with an immeasurable charm, a distant beat and melody that draws the listener in, causing an urge to push to the front of the milling crowds and discover the band who are creating such a loud, catchy and cohesive sound. The big surprise is that the band are only a three piece, the bigger and more pleasant surprise is that the venue is nigh on full, appreciating the band's efforts and not just idly killing time before the headline act take to the stage.<br>After the ubiquitous fiddling and fathing from an international band's road crew (how many times do you need to tune the same guitar?) the Fratellis suddenly appear on stage and bask in an instant wave of admiration from a highly enthusiastic audience who have obviously been waiting a long time for the band to finally get here. The first striking thing about the band is how much heavier they sound live than on their albums. Live renditions of tracks from 'Costello Music' have gained an extra depth and grunt that was never present on the recorded versions. Newer material from 'Here we Stand' pushes the band further into epic rock territory with more sweeping chord changes, guitar solos and sing-a-long choruses. The second striking thing about the Fratellis is how well known their material is, it even surprises the band, giving special mention to the fact that they have never encountered an audience that knows the words to all of their songs, old and new. Looking around the venue, at least 50% of the venue is mouthing along to nearly every word of nearly every song. The entire gig is an enjoyable and pleasurable experience, the crowd are here to appreciate the music not fling themselves about the venue in the direction of the stage, no one is pissed off, no one is angry, there are no conflicts, no run ins with security, just a great night of music from a band proving themselves to be a lot greater and possesing more longevity than anyone ever expected.

Sebastian Bach represents everything good and / or bad about heavy rock depending on your point of view. He and his band tick all the anticipated and expected boxes, long flowing curly locks, tight (and for some members, stripy) jeans, sleeveless vests, stupendous Marshall stacks and some on stage moves straight out of 'Rock moves 101'. The crowd is equally suited to the band, resplendent in a sea of metal band T-Shirts, VB cans, Devil hands and increasingly drunken swaying.

Sailors and Swines show little care that they are first act on the bill tonight, playing to a half full room of waifs and strays. Their blend of edgy, disjointed, noisy angst ridden rock grabs your attention and hits you right between the eyes like a brightly coloured brick. Some of the band's material is a little samey but they are young, new, fresh, exciting and perform the audience wake up role admirably.I Heart Hiroshima posses that care free attitude so common in bands from Queensland, they saunter on to stage, fiddle around a bit, start with no sort of introductions and progress through their set like they were just hanging out in your front room on a summer evening. The songs are bright, generally cheery and brimming with sparse arrangements of catchy melodies and deliciously captivating contrasting harmonies. A fair chunk of the crowd have turned up for I Heart Hiroshima and are joyfully jumping in front of the stage, shouting eager calls of support and praise for a band they all embrace with wide open arms.The problem for any older, mature and well-established band in booking such young and vibrant supports is then living up to the standard and energy just set. Rocket Science, recently received back into the Melbourne Music scene with a welcoming smile and a firm handshake, give it a good go, but don't quite make it. Maybe it's tiredness after a nationwide tour, maybe it's complacency after such an easy career reestablishment, or maybe it's just because their fans are now teetering on the edge of an age where they don't dance anymore. Whatever it is, something doesn't feel quite right, it feels as if the infamously boisterous front man, Roman, is going through the motions somewhat and not quite feeling the motivation behind what he's doing, whilst the rest of the band barely move, rooted to the spot for most of the set. Presence aside the band still firmly retain the solid and fat Rock sound they are renowned for, pushing out countless and relentless riffs, licks and slick chords. It's unclear from the audience response and overheard comments if the crowd are glad the band are back and a going concern, or are just pleased to hear a few old favourites they grew up with, but we all hope that Rocket Science keep packing out venues around the land whilst fans make their minds up.

- City life, don't you just love it

I'm dancing on the edge of normality, waggling my arse at the people inside and loving every minute.

Cate and I got a bus, the 160 that used to run from Catford to Sidcup, we got off the bus near where I used to live, on the south circular, which was near where it used to go, but slightly off route. We got off the bus and all the shops were exactly as I remembered, as we walked down the road (which was a major street for traffic) we came across a fruit orchard, trees of apples, plums, gooseberries and more, I kept trying to take photos of the fruit and Cate kept getting in the way saying 'stop that! Take a picture of me!î As we wandered through the forest we came across a normal looking house, although there was no indication of being so, we instantly knew it was a tourist attraction and went inside.

Megalomaniac had death at the press of a button, he'd declared war on the rest of the world and he wasn't backing down now. The world hadn't taken him seriously, hadn't met his demands, he'd have to show the world fear and harm.

Fancied damaged boy any box or coy Cox kiss lips as they lisp.

_Phone on table, centre stage. Phone rings._

Tell me what the matter is, I really want to know.

There's an odd and intriguing dynamic within Actor/Model, Karen on guitar and keyboards and Phil on drums seem to spend a vast proportion of the set staring at Ricky on guitar and vocals, giving the general impression that he's the only one who has any idea what's going on. The band have a foot firmly planted in early to mid 90's Indie but are unashamed to admit to it, hammering through a set of meandering guitar noises underpinned by awesome fat and fuzzy keyboard sounds.Bachelor of Arts are on fire tonight and have been steadily improving over the past few months transforming from an interesting three piece into a devastatingly tight unit that now seem to have really found their motivation and sound. Every member of the band seems to play just the right thing in the right place, wonderfully complementing each other and creating spectacular sparse works of musical art.

The prester quest is a story of two men's present day retracing of a journey from Italy to Ethiopia made by a Papal Emissary in 1177. His mission to deliver a letter to a supposedly (and widely believed to be) real King of a fantastical Christian land in the heart of Islamic lands. I read a similar 'retracing the steps' book (Victoria Clarks, The Wayfarers) about a year ago, which was an amazing read, so this book had a lot to live up to. It starts slowly and doesn't really get going until about a quarter of a way through the book, the author's slightly facetious tone initially rather annoying and patronizing. However once the plot and journey kicks in the book is a gripping read full of interesting facts, observations and experiences from History and their eventful journey across several countries, continents and cultures.

Whoever named tonight's event 'Uh Huh' should be given a gentle slap round the face for concocting such an uninspiring name for such an inspiring line up. The Corner is sadly sparser than expected tonight but those of us present are up for a full on (especially with no mind numbingly annoying and boring lengthy sound checks) night of cutting edge Rock and Roll in the company of some of the hottest and most vibrant bands in the Country.

Playing Rock & Roll with a drum machine is a tough task, trying to maintain passion, emotion and flexibility within the confines of a machines rigid confine. Whilst TV for Cats aren't the most engaging band to watch, their lack of human backline doesn't notice and musically they are as flexible and fluid as any band with a sweaty skin pounder in the back row. The tunes are bright, edgy and catchy, with ingenious arrangements and musical tricks scattered throughout their set.

Allow me the indulgence of stepping outside the traditional third person / present tense to make an observation on context, situation and assumption. Once I saw Cameron (lead singer of Baseball) sat at a tram stop, his usual crazy haired self, decked in the un official uniform of Melbourne musicians, tight jeans, singlet and Dunlop volleys. Outside of his element people were avoiding him, labelling him as one those 'crazies' and best ignored or stared at. In his element fronting a rock band all eyes are upon him again but this time there is no doubt about what this crazy haired man is here for.

One man talking solidly for three hours with no breaks and only taking one drink the entire time is a pretty intense experience for all involved, especially when one of those is Henry Rollins. He stands rigid in one spot, legs arched, tense, constantly looking as if he's about to leap into a fight. He covers topics from war and politics to loving music and sex, never elitist and never patronising. He tries hard to remain down to Earth and on the side of the common man, at times I find this hard to believe, for example he continually mentions his 'Utilitarian hovel' unyet lets slip that it has 3 bathrooms. Also whilst I whole heartedly support his 'Live every day as your last' attitude and his encouragement to seek, accept and grasp all opportunities, he is Henry Rollins and in a lot better place to be offered and act upon opportunities than many. Don't let me paint the show in a bad light however as this is a truly informative and inspiring show full of observations, anecdotes and intelligent witticisms on the state of the world. He is engaging, never wandering even slightly close to boredom and maintains an equal level of passion and energy throughout his entire set. I know little of Henry Rollins career but after discovering such a like minded soul who shares so many similar beliefs and motivations I shall be digging more into his past, present and future, hoping to be further roused and renewed in my own ventures.

The Knockouts are straight ahead psychobilly rock and roll, feeling slightly stifled but warming up towards the end of the set. Strangely similar in delivery to old Ska band, the Selecter, their material is fairly paint by numbers, simple and uncomplicated conjuring images of Smokey bars in the American deep south, surrounded by far too much leather and cigarette smoke if it hasn't been banned yet?

Let down the wall, try not to use a piano, you'll amaze yourself.

An image man does what his image can