I have to start off by thanking the guy who wrote us up on Metafilter last week, a website that apparently has the magical power to make even a half-assed music blog like ours more popular than catbeard photos. So thanks, narain! Hopefully by the time we post this, you and all the other Metafilterlings […]
“We’ve played some serious shitholes on this tour,” Matmos‘ M.C. Schmidt said Monday night. “But this is not one of them.”
The man did not fib. The Masonic Lodge at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery is a gorgeous space with high vaulted ceilings, great acoustics and extremely uncomfortable chairs. Chairs aside, it was the perfect space in which to soak up the many bizarre sounds put forth by M.C. Schmidt and his partner, Drew Daniel, who were there to perform tracks from their latest album, The Marriage of True Minds, as well as a few old favorites.
Matmos put on a much more entertaining show than you might reasonably expect from two dudes hunched over a couple of folding tables festooned with cables, laptops and vintage synths. Aided by members of their opening band, Horse Lords, on guitar, drums and woodwinds, they cranked out a pretty diverse and dense wall of sounds, including some made by objects one doesn’t normally see at a concert, much less one being held at a cemetery. But more on that in a sec.
Horse Lords—like Matmos, a Baltimore band—set the tone with some highly percussive post-rock that was punctuated Andrew Bernstein’s gloriously noisy, looped saxophone riffs. They weren’t quite as unhinged as Baltimore’s last great noise merchants, the late lamented Ponytail, but you can see where they have the potential to seriously fuck up some shit. No surprise Matmos invited them to serve as both opening act and touring band.
When Matmos took the stage, they were a study in contrasts: M.C. Schmidt looked like a tweedy liberal arts professor, while Drew Daniel was decked out in full punk/industrial/leather daddy regalia, wearing a studded leather Merzbow jacket that probably had several Japanoise fans in the audience wiping drool off their chins.
They began the set with “Very Large Green Triangles,” the lead single (if Matmos has singles) off The Marriage of True Minds. In case you haven’t been keeping up with our many Matmos posts, True Minds is the duo’s possibly serious, possibly tongue-in-cheek attempt to create an entire album using extra-sensory perception: They stuck test subjects in an isolation chamber, then tried to transmit the album to them telepathically. Then they recorded the subjects’ descriptions of what they were seeing and hearing in their isolation-chamber mind-movies and built songs around samples of those descriptions. So “Very Large Green Triangles” is based on a test subject talking about, well, seeing very large triangles. With me so far?
To evoke their mind experiments in a live setting, they had Horse Lords guitarist Owen Gardner narrate “Green Triangles” while wearing opaque glasses and giant headphones. I think we got the extended-due-to-technical-difficulties version of the track, because M.C. Schmidt kept fidgeting with the onstage sound board and making “What the fuck?” faces for about five minutes before his keyboard would emit any sound. Sucked for him, I’m sure, but it actually turned the song into an even cooler, more epic jam than it is on record.
Credit: Philip Evans
They followed that up, fittingly, with their cover of the Buzzcocks’ “E.S.P.”, in which Drew Daniel did a nice job channeling his Merzbow jacket into a throat-shredding lead vocal. Side note: Turns out it’s very hard to head-bang while wearing glasses. Drew kept having to hold his hand over his Warby Parkers to keep them from flying off into the audience, where they no doubt would have been used to barter him out of his Merzbow jacket.
Credit: Philip Evans
I thought they might play more stuff from True Minds, but instead, they went right into “Lipostudio” from their surgery-sampling 2001 album, A Chance to Cut Is a Chance to Cure. To recreate the liposuction sounds from the studio track (“recorded right here in Los Angeles!” M.C. cheerfully noted), M.C. Schmidt blew what appeared to be a duck call and a small flute into a bowl of water. The effect was both cooler and grosser-sounding than you might expect.
Credit: Philip Evans
Next came the balloons. Oh, the balloons. I’m not sure what album this track was taken from, but it was hilarious and totally magical. If there is such a thing as a balloon maestro, then M.C. Schmidt is surely one.
Did I mention the visuals? Ah, the visuals. These guys know how to keep an electronic music show interesting. Then again, they’ve played with Björk, so you’d expect nothing less.
Matmos finished their set with a song from their 19th-century-folk-inspired album, The Civil War, which was a jaunty way to finish the show. There was whistling and something that I think was an autoharp. Until you hear them string together songs from throughout their six-odd-album career, it’s easy to forgot how insanely diverse Matmos’ catalog is. It could all easily be the work of four or five completely different groups.
Drew and M.C. wrapped things up with one of those encore-but-not-really moments when the band makes like they’re going to leave the stage, but then just mills around for a few minutes before someone finally grabs a mic and asks the usually rhetorical question, “Do you guys wanna hear one more?” (Just to be clear: I love when bands do this. Fuck the encore, stay up there and keep playing, dammit!) In response to Drew’s query, “Lounge or disco?”, the crowd wisely and lustily replied, “Disco!” So we got treated to a little Matmos-style thumpy-thumpy before having to walk back through the cemetery to our cars, which was a nice way to end a memorable evening. It would’ve been more memorable if we could’ve actually danced instead of just rocking back and forth in those uncomfortable chairs, but let’s not get greedy.
P.S. Many thanks to our buddy Phil for supplying the additional photos. And to Gary for the extra ticket. And to everyone who helped score me a seat in the second row. I am telepathically transmitting warm fuzzy feelings to you all.
Ever since we first heard about them two years ago, we’ve been meaning to get our asses to a Metalachi concert. Not like we haven’t had plenty of chances; they’re a local band and they play L.A. all the fucking time. But somehow, we just never quite made it happen.
Well last night, we finally got our Metalachi cherry popped at El Cid, a combination nightclub/Mexican restaurant that, if they had any sense at all, would make these guys their house band. Because sweet Jesus (pronounced “Hey-Seuss”) does Metalachi put on a show, even to a half-empty room on a Wednesday night. By the time they finished up with an encore of “Ace of Spades,” I did not see one person who wasn’t horns-up and yelling along.
Even if this is the first you’ve ever heard of Metalachi, you can probably guess from the name what they’re about: They’re a mariachi band that plays hard rock and metal covers. No electric guitars, no drums (except one time when Dave Lombardo of Slayer sat in with them), just violin, trumpet, acoustic guitars and vocals.
You might think “Ace of Spades” with no drums and no Marshall stacks would sound pretty weak, but most of Metalachi’s set works surprisingly well because a.) these are great fucking songs and b.) behind the gimmick and corny stage banter (“Come closer! We won’t bite unless you’re a fucking taco!”), these guys are actually kick-ass musicians. The violinist, in particular, one Maximilian “Dirty” Sanchez, can fucking wail.
And yeah, the whole metal-mariachi-band gimmick is pretty great, too. Especially as embodied by the trumpet player, El Cucy, who looks like a refugee from GWARdalajara. Get it? Cuz he’s in a mariachi band and…oh fuck it. Just look at the pictures, for fuck’s sake.
Also: Yes, those are demon skull shinguards. Available at fine metal accessory shops everywhere.
Besides “Ace of Spades,” Metalachi also gave the Tijuana treatment to “Rainbow in the Dark,” “We’re Not Gonna Take It,” “Black Dog,” “Here I Go Again,” “Bark at the Moon,” “Master of Puppets” and “Enter Sandman,” “Every Rose Has Its Thorn,” “Livin’ on a Prayer” and, of course, the Greatest Hard Rock Song of All Time. Which is the subject of our first-ever Weird Band YouTube Video. Apologies for the shaky camera-work, we’re still new at this shit.
So thanks for an excellent night out, Metalachi! We just have one humble suggestion: Add some Van Halen to your set. “Panama,” maybe? “Ain’t Talkin’ ‘Bout Love”? You’re the experts, we’re sure you can find something in the Roth-era catalog that lends itself to a little mariachi magic.
This and other non-Instagrammed photos by Tom Domingues
Is there any band on the planet better-suited to putting on a Christmas concert than The Polyphonic Spree? Do I even have to answer that? This is a band that, even in non-Christmas mode, radiates so much joy to the world that they practically levitate off the stage. Slap a few Santa hats on them, and the joy is so intense you could probably weaponize it and have the entire nation of North Korea doing the “Gangnam Style” dance in the streets. So it’s about time that they finally released a Christmas album, Holidaydream, and took their semi-legendary annual Holiday Extravaganza concert on the road.
The first stop of the Holiday Extravaganza (Holivaganza?) tour was right here in Los Angeles this past Thursday night. Held at the usually dark and clubby Henry Fonda Theatre, it was a kid-friendly affair with unconventional opening acts (a magician, a children’s book author), people in Santa suits and giant snowman and reindeer costumes running around the crowd, printed programs with song lyrics, and a decidedly non-rock concert vibe. One friend of mine brought her seven-year-old daughter, who was happily tear-assing around the venue with another little girl with blinky lights on her shoes. At one point I spotted Spree frontman Tim DeLaughter in the audience, chillaxing and enjoying himself as much as everyone else. It was like being at a church social that just happened to have a full bar with six beers on tap.
The Spree played an early, holiday-themed set for the families and kids; then, after a couple of other musical acts (YouTube-famous folkie Gustafer Yellowgold and the punk-rock-meets-Blue-Man-Group racket of Street Drum Corps), they returned for an extended “rock set” that included old Spree standards like “Soldier Girl” and “Light & Day/Reach for the Sun.” Both sets featured balloon drops, confetti cannons, and loads of rowdy singing along—along maybe not as much singing along as DeLaughter was hoping for when he invited a bunch of the kids up on stage and launched into “Feliz Navidad.” Turns out most little kids whose parents have dragged them to a Polyphonic Spree concert don’t know the words to “Feliz Navidad.” Note to Tim: Try “Jingle Bells” next time. That’s every seven-year-old’s “Sweet Caroline.”
To the Spree’s credit, they didn’t stick to the obvious, feelgood Yuletide classics. Yes, “Happy Xmas (War Is Over)” and “Joy to the World” were practically meant to be played by an 18-piece rock orchestra, and they were suitably grandiose and exuberant. But an eerie, slightly atonal version of “Do You Hear What I Hear?” was also one of the highlights of the holiday set, as was the “Town Meeting Song” from The Nightmare Before Christmas. I also loved that they turned “Silent Night” into a harp solo so beautiful, it actually made you forget that “Silent Night” is one of the dreariest, most dirge-like Christmas carols of all time.
The latest incarnation of the Spree has been stripped down to a comparatively lean 18 members—or so my program tells me. Actually, I only counted 17 people onstage, but maybe the second guitarist was out sick or something. Even minus a French horn or two, they still managed to pump out quite the wall of sound.
The highlight of any Spree set, for me, is their electrifying cover of Nirvana’s “Lithium,” and the version on this tour, accompanied by a pink balloon drop, does not disappoint.
The only part of the show that was even better than “Lithium”? The milk and cookies they handed everyone in the lobby on their way out. Can all bands start doing this now, please?
The Polyphonic Spree Holiday Extravaganza is only playing four more cities: Chicago (Dec. 11th), Philadelphia (Dec. 14th), New York (Dec. 15th) and Dallas (Dec. 22nd). If you’re lucky enough to live in one of those places, go. What else are you gonna see this time of year? Mannheim Steamroller?
I’m really glad one of the last things I did before Election Day was go see GWAR. This is a band, after all, that “heartily cried for the destruction” of all candidates earlier this year, and who bookended their set at the Hollywood House of Blues by bloodily decapitating stand-ins for Mitt Romney and Barack Obama. Deep in the throes of election fatigue as I was, it was a pretty cathartic way to spend the first Sunday in November.
I can’t really tell you much else about my first GWAR experience that the photos don’t say for me. (Jake, sadly, couldn’t make it, but he did loan me his vintage ’80s GWAR T-shirt so I wouldn’t get stomped in the mosh pit.) I’ll just note that in addition to Romney and Obama, Oderus and co. also dismembered Hitler, Jesus and Super Cyborg Jesus (that’s SCJ in the photo above, pre-dismemberment), and for their encore, they fed about a dozen lucky fans into a giant meat grinder. You know, family entertainment.
I’ll also note that, as a GWAR newb, I was not fully prepared for just how much fake blood (and fake green god-monster jizz, spurted from Oderus’ enormous god-monster phallus) they hose down their audience with. By the end of the show, the stuff was practically ankle-deep on the floor. I probably should gotten close enough to get doused—GWAR rite of passage and all—but I pussed out because, frankly, they mostly sprayed the mosh pit and I would not have lasted five seconds in that seething mass of flailing elbows and sweaty crowd-surfers. I’m old and I’m pretty sure my crappy insurance would consider “attends metal shows” to be a pre-existing condition.
Anyway, a rowdy, sacrilegious good time was had by one and all—especially when they dismembered Jesus. And man, they dismembered the shit out of him. Even Hitler gets off easier at a GWAR concert than poor old J.C.
Oh, also: After playing it as a joke for The Onion A.V. Club, they have actually added Kansas’ “Carry On Wayward Son” to their set list. Which was nearly as awesome Super Cyborg Jesus.
GWAR’s remaining tour dates after the pics. If you’ve never seen them live, for fuck’s sake go. They are truly a bucket list band. And be sure you get in the fake-blood line of fire. I’m already kicking myself for missing that part. Though not as hard as I would’ve gotten kicked in that mosh pit.
GWAR’s remaining 2012 tour dates:
11/8: Boise, ID @ Knitting Factory
11/9: Portland, OR @ Roseland Theater
11/10: Seattle, WA @ Showbox SODO
11/11: Spokane, WA @ Knitting Factory
11/12: Vancouver, BC @ Vogue Theater
11/14: Edmonton, AB @ Edmonton Events Centre
11/15: Calgary, AB @ MacEwan Hall Ballroom
11/16: Saskatoon, SK @ Odeon Events Centre
11/17: Winnipeg, MB @ The Garrick Center
11/18: Minneapolis, MN @ First Avenue
11/19: Joliet, IL @ Mojoes
11/20: Grand Rapids, MI @ The Intersection
11/21: Milwaukee, WI @ The Rave
11/23: Detroit, MI @ Harpo’s
11/24: Toronto, ON @ Sound Academy
11/26: Millvale, PA @ Mr. Smalls Theater
12/20: Washington, DC @ 9:30 Club
12/21: Norfolk, VA @ The NorVa
Peelander-Z and a lucky fan
Sometimes, we here at TWBITW gots to pay the bills. So my full review of Peelander-Z’s pre-Halloween extravaganza at L.A.’s Bootleg Bar can only be read on LA Weekly’s West Coast Sound blog, whose editors were kind enough to compensate me for going to the show in exchange for telling their readers how frickin’ awesome it was. And it was pretty frickin’ awesome, but for all the gory details, you’ll have to visit LAWeekly.com.
Meanwhile, here are a few more photos from Saturday night’s show, plus more Peelander-Z tour dates after the jump. If they’re coming to your town, you really should go see them. How many bands do you know with a unicycle-riding squid?
Remaining Peelander-Z tour dates:
10/31 Dallas, TX @ Club Dada *
11/01 Shreveport, LA @ Fatty Arbuckles *
11/02 Austin, TX @ Red 7 FunFunFun Festival, 1230AM
11/03 Austin, TX @ Yellow Stage FunFunFun Festival, 755PM
11/04 Houston, TX @ Warehouse Live *, w/ Anamanaguchi
11/05 Lafayette, LA @ The Feed & Seed
11/06 New Orleans, LA @ One Eyed Jacks *
11/09 Atlanta, GA @ Drunken Unicorn *
11/10 Nashville, TN @ Mercy Lounge *
11/11 Knoxville, TN @ Cider House *
11/13 Tallahassee, FL @ Rehab *
11/14 Orlando, FL @ The Social *
11/15 Tampa, FL @ The Orpheum *
11/17 Gainesville, FL @ High Dive *
11/19 Wilmington, NC @ The Soapbox *
11/21 Washington, DC @ U Street Music *
11/23 Brooklyn, NY @ Knitting Factory *, Brooklyn Vegan Presents
* w/Electric Eel Shock
Oct 8
This gallery contains 8 photos.
I don’t mind telling you, it was with some trepidation that I went out to see Here Come the Mummies last Thursday night. And not just because they were playing at the House of Blues on the Sunset Strip, which is easily my least favorite part of Los Angeles. The strip used to be sleazy/cool, […]
“What you’re about to hear,” said the middle one of the three guys onstage dressed in matching gray plaid shirts, “is 100 percent feedback. Okay, maybe 90 percent.”
This was not what I expected out of Negativland, the band/art collective responsible for inventing the term “culture jamming” and notorious for getting nearly sued out of existence by U2. I was hoping for a multimedia extravaganza featuring mockingly sampled TV commercials, pop tunes and maybe a chopped ‘n’ screwed RNC stump speech or two. At least a little self-mutilation, perhaps. But a solid hour of feedback? Not what I had in mind.
The feedback was coming courtesy of a curious little homemade instrument called the Booper, a simple oscillator/FX box invented by arguably Negativland’s weirdest member, David “The Weatherman” Wills. (You can watch The Weatherman’s highly idiosyncratic “How to Use the Booper” tutorial here.) With four or five of these Booper gadgets fired up at once, the three members of Negativland onstage this past Thursday at the Echoplex here in L.A. unleashed a slow-motion tidal wave of noise that was actually a lot less horrible than I thought it would be. In fact, by the end of the performance, I was rather enthralled.
I’ve been sitting here for a while now trying to explain to you how over 45 minutes of improvised feedback could be “enthralling” and so far, I’ve come up with bupkis. We even had a brief power outage that forced me to rewrite this entire post and still, I got nothin’. All I can tell you is that the Negativland guys were very clever about tweaking their Boopers (and yes, I know that sounds masturbatory—and it probably should) just enough to keep all those drones, shrieks, rumbles and roars from getting completely monotonous. It was noise, yes, but it was purposeful noise—or at least they were able to make it seem that way. I’m pretty sure they snuck in a few drum machine beats and loops, too, although I can’t say for sure because my vantage point was too far from the stage. In a nice gesture towards Negativland’s borderline-geriatric fan base, the usually standing-room-only Echoplex put in about 20 rows of folding chairs, but I was standing towards the back. Which is okay, actually, because my borderline-geriatric ears couldn’t have handled all that feedback at closer range.
Apparently this all-Booper show was a kickoff of sorts for a gallery show here in L.A. featuring the art of Negativland. Called “Our Favorite Things,” the show runs through Sept. 30th at the La Luz de Jesus Gallery. We’ll try to check it out before it closes and report back to you on that, as well.
Oh, and to all of you who tweeted and Facebooked responses to our “What requests should we yell out?” query—thanks, but it really wasn’t that kind of show. I think even during the encore, if I had yelled out “Christianity Is Stupid,” I would have at best elicited an extra squawk of Booper-induced feedback.
Some venues live up to their name, and The Smell is definitely one of them. An all-ages, alcohol-free punk-rock club tucked away down an alley in downtown Los Angeles, it’s the kind of place where, every time a band finishes their set, everyone stampedes for the exit to suck down fresh air (and cigarettes, which compared to The Smell are like little tobacco-scented air fresheners) like carp bobbing to the surface of a dirty koi pond. You see, besides being alcohol-free, The Smell is also air-conditioning-and-ventilation-free. Midway through Quintron and Miss Pussycat’s set, I had to stop taking pictures because my iPhone screen was filming up with the salty condensation of 300 kids’ sweat. Ew.
That being said, it was kind of the perfect place to see Quintron and Miss Pussycat do their swampy, low-tech organ rock. After opening with one of Miss P’s totally adorable puppet shows (see the video clip below for an excerpt), Quintron fired up his Drum Buddy and was off to the races, laying down thick slabs of Hammond organ over programmed beats that had the sweaty punk-rock kids moving and grooving. It was a lively 90-minute set, especially given how oppressively hot the room was, although it probably peaked too soon with a slow-burn version of “Swamp Buggy Bad Ass” that found a shirtless, sweat-slick Quintron prowling through the crowd like a wild animal, before jumping back onstage to unleash an onslaught of distorted organ and Drum Buddy glitchitude that had the place going nuts. My favorite Hawaiian shirt may never smell the same again, but it was all worth it for that one song.
Other set highlights included the Miss Pussycat vocal showcases “Banana Beat” and “Fly Like a Rat,” the super-catchy “Waterfall,” and “Ring the Alarm,” one of the best songs from the duo’s most recent album, Sucre du Savage. And regardless of what song they were playing, it was fun to watch Quintron put the Drum Buddy, an analog synth built around a light bulb and a rotating tin can, through its paces—and to watch the audience wince every time he fired up the high-beams on the Oldsmobile grille attached to the front of his organ.
Side note: Although I don’t think they were really interesting enough to merit a Weird Band of the Week pick anytime soon, opening act XBXRX do get bonus points for taking the stage dressed in what appeared to be multi-colored, half-diaper/half-toga ensembles, and playing such a ridiculously loud set that at one point, Quintron walked past me with his fingers jammed into his ears. (If my wife is reading this: Yes, honey, I wore earplugs.) Sadly, I got no pictures of XBXRX and their ridiculous ensembles, because in addition to being one of the most aromatic venues I’ve ever had the pleasure of visiting, The Smell was also one of the darkest. Most of the light in the second and third pictures below came from Quintron’s Drum Buddy.
Quintron and Miss Pussycat’s tour continues all through July. More dates here. I highly recommend checking ‘em out.
Oh, and did I mention there was a puppet show?
[Apr. 22 update: We've got more photos from the show courtesy of our pal Brad Cooper. Thanks, Brad!]
Time for another first here at TWBITW: our first-ever concert review! Gee, that only took us three years. Stick around, who knows what we’ll do in another three years. (Learn to take better photos? We can dare to dream.)
Last night, Jake and I and a couple of buddies with a fondness for spazzy J-pop trekked out to Santa Monica and the Central SAPC (Social and Pleasure Club—fancy!) to behold the insanity that is Trippple Nippples. For those of you who don’t regularly follow this blog (we forgive you), The Trippps are a female trio from Japan who we originally described as “hyper-caffeinated electro-pop”—although after last night’s show, I feel like we made need to revise that description a little. They’ve got more punk energy than we gave them credit for.
We arrived not really knowing what to expect, having only seen a few photos and grainy videos of past Trippp Nippp performances. But what little we saw looked pretty off the chain, as the kids may or may not still say. Would they come out clad in their Baileys-squirting cow costumes? Their noodle helmets? Their highly disturbing black latex body paint? The possibilities seemed endless.
When they finally took the stage, about an hour behind schedule, the three Trippps (I can’t call them Nippps because that sounds racist), along with their three-piece backing band, were clad in eye-catching but comparatively tame white jumpsuits covered with black cartoon shapes (including, most prominently, penises) and pseudo-tribal patterns—very Die Antwoord-esque, in a way. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little disappointed that they didn’t opt for something more outrageous; then again, getting a cow costume through customs has to be a bitch.
For their first several songs, it seemed like I had gotten Trippple Nippples all wrong. Although their music did feature lots of electronics (the guitar-bass-drums backing band sometimes seemed, honestly, like it was mainly for show), the tempos and overall vibe were much more punk/thrash than I was prepared for. A pretty frenetic mosh pit even broke out, although it was one of those annoying hipster mosh pits where the look on everyone’s face said, “I may be shoving you as I pogo around like an idiot, but I’m doing it ironically.”
The Trippps’ set got more interesting as it went along—and I’m not just saying that because two of the three Nippplettes stripped to the waist, revealing that all they were wearing under those jumpsuits was body paint and strategically placed duct tape. The music got a little less spazzy, more dancey and melodic. By the time they finished with their most hyper-caffeinated song, “LSD” (definitely my new favorite pro-drug anthem), they had revealed themselves to be more accessible and way more versatile than I was expecting. Although “LSD” would still probably give most American pop music consumers a seizure.
Anyway, here are some more crappy iPhone photos from last night’s show, made slightly less crappy by the miracle of Instagram, along with some non-crappy iPhone photos from our buddy Brad Cooper. And although we didn’t get any video of the Central SAPC show, some budding documentarian was kind enough to post a clip from their show in San Diego the previous night. Oh, and more Trippp Nippp tour dates after the jump, too.
Trippple Nippples remaining West Coast and UK/European tour dates:
April 25- The New Parish – Oakland,CA
April 26 – Thee Parkside – San Francisco, CA
April 27 – W2 Media Cafe – Vancouver – Canada
April 28 – TBA- Portland – Oregon
April 30 – Someday Lounge – Portland – Oregon
May 7 – The Macbeth – London – UK
May 10 – The Great Escape – Brighton – UK
May 11- TBA – Brighton – UK
May 12- Walk The Line Festival – The Hague – Holland
May 21- Panic Room – Paris – France
May 26- TBA – Paris – France
HCTM WILL BE IN MICHIGAN JULY 3RD, MUSKEGON AND JULY 13TH @ THE MACHINE SHOP IN FLINT. GREAT MUSICIA
That's a heck of a weird video!
Reblogged this on manbehindthecurtain and commented: I highly recommend that you all purchase CDs by
The dudes are frakkin amazing!
I was just listening to the bee gees song 'tragedy' in my mums car & wondered if anyones ever no
If by good you mean "less terrible than her Eurovision song"...I guess.
