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Ding Dong is sadly a little empty tonight, maybe everyone is at home performing some last minute research into the capabilities of their local party candidates. We hope.

My latest column is an interview with Experimental noise four piece 'Embers'.

The past 10 days I've been stupidly busy with some freelance work editing videos for a State government project, ohh the glamour!

My latest column is a brief foray into the Politics of Music in Melbourne, and poses a few questions, some of which I may be wrong on, and some I may be right on...

<strong>Why did you guys decide to get together and form a band?</strong><br /> When we first met each other 18 months ago we were pretty disillusioned with other things in our lives, University wasn't quite what we expected it to be. We saw like-minded people in each other and decided to do something together.

The Drones are an Australian Indie institution, but largely unknown outside of their growing and loyal fanbase. Yet another interview I entered without knowing a great deal about the subjects, however, after hearing so much about them from friends, I was eager to learn more. I spoke to Mike Noga (Drums) about the bands busy history and how he celebrated his 29th Birthday by being mugged in London, life on the road!

I reviewed one of <em>Dr Dog</em>'s past albums, though now looking back through their productive back catalogue, with an album every year, I'm not entirely sure I remember which one it was. The band subscribe to the pack them in and out quickly approach, <em>We all belong</em> is 38 minutes long and not exactly over produced. It is eleven tracks of laid back bluesy, maybe 'swampy' multi-instrumental rock, chocker-block with slick harmonies and chunky riffs, all skilfully played by a bunch of mysterious Americans who's names all begin with the letter 'T'. It's simple, straightforward, uncomplicated and succinct. Just like this review.

The Drones are something of an enigma, they posses an extremely loyal and fairly large fan base throughout the world, but outside of their followers, they remain largely unknown. As an illustrative point, The Doorman of the Corner is heard to say in response to a passer by, 'The Drones are playing tonight, never heard of them, must be popular though, it's sold out.î

Kathrin deBoer of Bellaruche has a star quality, an ability to captivate and draw in a crowd, no matter how large. She fills the vast stage at the regal Metro nightclub with a stunning appearance and presence, her delicate and kookily sensuous dancing keeping all eyes firmly planted on her. This is before even mentioning her silky smooth voice that effortlessly floats above Bellaruche's chilled and mellow tunes, with guitar provided by the infinitely smiley Rickey Fabulous and scratches and beats provided by a last minute substitute (due to a plethora of immigration problems) in the form of Brisbane's DJ Thief.<br /> The band set the mood admirably and the sold out crowd are starting to slowly bob and move their feet to music provided by DJ Thief, the mood is electric, friendly and up for a long night. The air starts to fill with the smell of Marijuana, and whilst this flaunting of the smoking ban annoys some of the crowd it wouldn't feel like a Reggae/Dub/Hip-Hop gig without that fragrance hanging in the air.<br /> There's something to be said for making occasionally forays into less familiar genres, to witness the talent and technical ability that some musicians posses, and to see how some crowds actually show their appreciation for the music they are watching, rather than attempting to look fashionable the entire set.<br /> Perhaps the best and most fascinating thing about Fat Freddy's Drop is the individuality of all the members, Joe Dukie is the epitome of cool, pristine attire and seemingly the most controlled and effortless voice in the business. Warryn, Tony and Ho on horns each posses their own comically differing traits, Tony is sharp and restrained, looking like a cooler English Public School boy, and Ho has no shame, stripping off throughout the gig and treating the crowd to some of the most outrageous and embarrassing dancing. The band plays so well together, and put on such a professional, tight and enjoyable show it's hard to resist the throbbing beats and seductive melodies. It's clear that a lot of the set is improvised, with basic song structures in place for the feel of the evening to take hold, but the band are such a tight and close unit that it only takes a slight wink or nod for everyone to know what's going on and what's happening next. It means that no two shows are the same, but any crowd lucky enough to be witnessing Fat Freddy's Drop is guaranteed to be part of one of the most vibrant and dynamic shows in town.

It's a lazy Sunday afternoon after a seemingly long weekend as music fans slowly start to emerge in the fineries of summer, T-shirts, Thongs and a slight glow as the days get warmer and the nights get longer. No one wants to stand tonight, rather lounge around The Northcote Social Club's floor and Sir aren't going to force them to commit to anything as they ease out the weekend with their sullen blend of sordid sexiness, love laments and brooding ballads. Jesse Jackson, the bands' male vocalist gloriously underplays his role as 'front man' and band leader, eyes rarely meeting the audience, his baritone voice wooing the crowd despite his tales of sadness and betrayal. Guest vocalist Jane Badler purrs through songs, her lips pouting, her eyes alluring, she posses that perfect 'Holywood' blend of glitzy glamour and restraint, giving you just enough to be lured into her trap, but no more. The band provides a near perfect bed of backing music to proceedings, creating and maintaining just the right moods for each song. Much like the subjects of several of their songs, the band leave to soon, the crowd wants them to spend more time, but it's not to be.Guy Blackman and Sly Hats have just returned from a two month world tour, and tonight is their homecoming show. The guys look tired so they've got a backing band together for the occasion and take it in turns to play each others material. The songs deal with subjects common to artists of this ilk with both artists sitting at opposite ends of the spectrum, Sly Hats leans to the side of romanticised and fantastic tales of life and Guy Blackman weaves narrative lyrics around tales from his life, moving into a new area, his Mum, things like that. The music is 'nice'; a horrible word to use, but it's the best description that will gain instant understanding. The tunes trip along in a happy-go-lucky manner, ending slightly prematurely, but never challenging or demanding too much from the audience. These two songwriters are almost brotherly in appearance and their songs share an equal degree of similarity, a fine pair of musicians who produce great music apart and even better results together.

<strong>When, why and how did you get into music?</strong><br /> My Dad is almost wholly responsible, he always had music on. Saturday mornings are filled with Sun and Music in my memories. He bought me a guitar for my 11th birthday and I never really looked back. I had older sisters who got me into everything that was terrible about the 80's, but also some gems. Lloyd Cole for example. The Beatles were an incredible learning experience for me too - I learnt all the little parts and sang along. I also got into hip-hop and then blues, which led to jazz and improvised and experimental music. Now I guess I'm back to rock n roll and folk which is kinda where I began.

It can't have escaped many people in the world's attention that the North of England has been producing a tremendous amount of popular and fashionable music over the past two years. Led by the success of bands like <em>Kaiser Chiefs</em> and Maximo <em>Park</em>, a lot of sound-a-likes spawned, creating a glut of poor imitators and glory chasers and often those who didn't sound anything like any of the glory stories were left by the wayside. The <em>Dance to The Radio</em> label led by <strong>Forward Russia</strong> and <strong>The Pigeon Detectives</strong> has been a mainstay of the 'Northern music scene', showcasing some of the smaller acts from the region and <em>Out of the Woods and Trees</em> is the labels fourth compilation, weighing in at 20 tracks. Some do sound a lot like what's come before, and sadly, what you almost expect from Northern England (Angular guitars and disco beats), but there are a few gems lurking on the compilation including the likes of <em>The Taste, You Slut! </em>and<em> Grammatics</em>. Possibly the 'scene's' time is now over, but judging by this compilation there's still the usual amount of great bands plying their trade, and undoubtedly they couldn't care less if anyone's paying any attention.

And now for something completely different

Geoff O'Conner is one of a multitude of Melbournian musicians with a penchant for side projects, his band 'Crayon Fields' already has several tours and releases under his belt, and now his solo persona 'Sly Hats' is rapidly catching up recently returning from a two month world tour with fellow songwriter 'Guy Blackman'. I caught up with a nervous Geoff and over cups of herbal tea we discussed Music, Melbourne (and sadly after the recorder was switched off and he finally relaxed) and the ways of the World.

(I wrote a whole long and detailed post, then lost it... So now I'm just going to a brief summary!)

My latest Indieoma.com post is an interview with Melbourne hipsters (or are they?) Dardanelles...

Once again, I've let personal posts lapse to the point where I've forgotten when I last posted one and what I said...

This week my column is something a little different, I've moved out of Indie Rock and it's a description of a demonstration of John Cage's Prepared Piano I saw during the Melbourne International Arts Festival, read it here.

A short and sweet interview with Ned Collette can be found here.

Firstly I wanted to share with you a recent experience of editing...

The latest instalment of my series, featuring Folk Music from the 70's onwards can be found <a href="https://www.indieoma.com/public_journal.php?d=d395771085aab05244a4fb8fd91bf4ee" target="_blank">here</a>

This week was another week where various elements kept pointing me towards a certain way of thinking, again, I'll just go through the week and ramble a bit...

According to a forthcoming research report to be issued by overseas student recruiter IDP Education, International Student demand in Australia will double in the next two decades with Universities struggling to meet the demand. Currently Overseas students comprise approximately 17% of the Australian student body with just over a quarter of those studying in Victoria, how much does and will this affect Victorian students?

I Heart Hiroshima are one of many Australian bands operating on independent labels who distribute through major companies (In their case MGM), funding releases from touring, merchandise and hopefully previous releases. It&rsquo;s a model that their label &lsquo;boss&rsquo; Paul Curtis believes is a template for the future, he&rsquo;s a man who&rsquo;s brain I intend to pick more of in the near future&hellip;

p>I&rsquo;m sure the booze and drug fuelled &ldquo;characters&rdquo; of Collingwood keep stealing CD&rsquo;s from my post box, as yet again I enter an interview with an artist who&rsquo;s album I never received. Never mind, it&rsquo;s making for interesting conversations as both parties struggle to make sense of each other and all the local Junkies are gaining a healthy and varied taste in music.

A compilation of rarities from a band I've never heard of, it seems one half of their permanent line up (Davey Lane) is something of an Australian institution, an institution that never made it past the Pacific Ocean, so I'm off the hook. The problem with rarities albums is that they will often only appeal to hardcore fans, generally being full of slightly dodgy tracks, cover versions and poor recordings, 'The Fantastic sound of the Picturesî contains examples of all of those (A Particular highlight is a cover of 'Mapsî by Yeah yeah yeahs that sounds like Primal Scream have replaced the band). It's a schizophrenic collection of songs, despite only spanning 5 years it sounds like a different band on each track, but I guess the rarities and b-sides of an artists are traditionally where they experiment and try something a little different. The sleeve notes accompanying the album are a fantastic insight into the songs and the band (especially for someone who knows nothing about them), demonstrating a warm and down to earth attitude with comments like '? We think it sucks toî and tales of financial woes, beer and recording session snacks. As the band would be more than likely to admit the album is not a fantastic collection of songs, more a mix of rough and smooth, a disc of memories and stories, but if you're a fan an invaluable and worthy addition to your collection.

A folk hero belonging truly to the old school, Carus has chalked up an average of 200 shows annually over the past few years and still found the time to release several albums, 'Three Boxesî being his third. It's mellow and laid back but brimming with passion, dedication and earnest emotion, the lyrics are tales of his experiences and life on the road, containing equal elements of regret and happiness with his lifestyle, the excitement and the loneliness. A beautiful album that can be listened to time and time again, it doesn't drag, it doesn't need to be turned off halfway through, it sits in the background and makes your workplace peaceful and it sits in the foreground and inspires, a perfect album.

The biggest surprise is that The Exploders are a two-piece, how on earth do they recreate guitar, bass, drums, keys and vocals live? ìEasy and the Sunî starts very well, mellow Ozzie rock, well played and crafted, but a majority of the tracks are much too long for a commercially viable pop rock album and about half way through things start to drag somewhat, the guitar sound, vocal delivery and pace of songs falling into something of a rut, never changing or varying (apart from the final song, which is a beautiful acoustic ballad), leaving the listener yearning for a break, unless you're getting stoned, I should imagine this is the perfect sonic accompaniment for such an evening, nothing too shocking or surprising. That said the album is a cut above a lot of other ìAustralian Rockî albums, there's not too much guitar wank, solos kept to a bluesy, basic and heartfelt minimum, it treads over familiar ground whilst keeping the path accessible and open to new wanderers. Perhaps this is the overall problem with The Exploders, possibly somewhere along the way the band decided to make their blend of rock lighter, becoming commercially more viable but losing their edge, ending up stuck in a rock limbo.

It&#39;s taken me a long time to get round to writing this review, I&#39;ve kept putting it off, not due to a dislike of the album, but because for the first time since I&#39;ve arrived on the shores of Australia I&#39;ve found an artist who clicks with something inside of me and putting that into words is a tough and daunting prospect. I&#39;ve not found an artist or album like this since Frank Turner&#39;s &quot;Sleep is for the Week&quot;, an album full of disillusionment with life past, present and future, that lyrically and musically describe almost precisely how I felt at that exact moment. Ben&#39;s mixture of troubadour-esque acoustic stories and laid back rock led by crunchy electric guitar and organ ring true in my ears, a sure sign of my ever maturing musical tastes, no longer impressed by loud guitars and shouting. It may not connect with me so much on a lyrical level, being primarily tales of lamented loves, but that same feeling of mistakes, possible regrets, lessons learned and a new optimistic outlook on life is as equally present as Frank Turner&#39;s offering, perhaps I identify with that feeling and process in life, no matter if the situations or motivations differ. But enough of comparisons, what of &quot;Last Ditch Brigade&quot;? It&#39;s an album full of finely crafted arrangements and instrumentation demonstrating a song writing ability far beyond Ben&#39;s years, the songs would be equally at home on a fashionable Indie Kids&#39; CD shelf as well as their parents&#39;, successfully creating an album that manages to transcend genres, fashions and age groups, simply producing a damn fine album, no pretension, no filler, full to the seams with brilliant songs.

This could be a long post...