This was a short-notice (not secret)
gig to "celebrate" the impending closure of one of
Melbourne's legendary live venues, the Punter's Club Hotel. While
I haven't been a regular Punter in ages, owing to a lack of cash
and a tendency for the Punters to feature shitty JJJ bands, nevertheless
the Punters has been the site of many of my all-time favourite
gigs... and this was one of them.
A bunch of craplisters
caught up before the gig to compare recording equipment and get
a head start on alcohol poisoning. Unfortunately it turned out
that Jezza's videorecording didn't capture any sound, although
apparently the T&A (todger and arse) are all intact. Pictured:
Jezza, Mark Rosenberg.
The Fat Thing used to play the Punters
a lot in the early 90s. I never bothered to see them because
they play generic heavy rock, but their TISM support was solidly
entertaining, mainly because of the singer's stage presence and
audience interaction (at one point he knelt down and sloppily
licked my neck, later going into the audience and picking up
craplister Kim, who had made the mistake up trying to look up
his dress...).
The Fat Thing were surprisingly well
received - normally TISM fans are rabid hoons who will tear apart
any band foolish enough to delay them from seeing their favourite
masked thugs - but no-one was in any delusion about what we were
there for, and when TISM took the stage from the main bar entrance
(ie by walking through the audience), the screams and wet knickers
equalled any Robbie Williams concert.
The set was opened, as usual recently,
with I Drive A Truck, then into Channel Turd. I have to admit
I don't particularly like Channel Turd on CD, but live it's really
great. I, sitting on the stage in the hope of good photo-ops,
got squished like a bug while classic rock such as Greg the Stop
Sign, Whatareya? and Saturday Night Palsy caused the crowd to
surge forward, although that could be just be because they all
wanted to get into Ron's pants.
If those
were my hands you could guess what would be going on here, but
I think she's trying to push Ron away.
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Traditional mid-set diatribe was a verse tribute
to the Punters, and a lament for the demise of rockism to be
replaced by latte sipping cliches. It was utterly predictable,
but still funny and well pleased the audience who had all bussed
in from Dandenong just for the occasion.
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After my personal fave from De Rigueurmortis,
Thou Shalt Not Britney Spear - I sing along and know all the
words, and it sounds pretty painful when I do it (apologies to
those of you who have the Laundry video by Peter Aylward, where
you can clearly hear me singing) - the band launched into Death
Death Death Amway Amway Amway, after which the whole show degenerated
as Ron ripped off his Calvins and then proceeded to dack Jon
St Peenis.
At this point that's the result of someone else
trying to dack Ron, but evidently this was inspiring...
I have an argument going with a fellow
craplister over whether Jon St Peenis, pictured above, is "chunky".
If he's a "larger bloke" then the rest of us must be
veritable Santa Clauses. It's this kind of sizeism that causes
anorexia, you know.
Here's the full setlist for the gig. After Mystery
of the Artist Explained, with its obligatory swipe at Phillip
Ruddock - dull, but unfortunately true - they disappeared for
two seconds, then did an "encore" (I'm sorry, but I
don't think it's really an encore when it's planned!) of Defecate
On My Face and I'll 'Ave Ya. The words at the bottom of the setlist
read "TISM - at your cervix". I wish.
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These lovely ladies were friends of The Fat Thing.
The woman on the right wears a t-shirt that says "VAGINAMITE"
and a similar badge on her hat that reads "VEGETATE".
The girl with the impressive cleavage is Welsh and owns a cigarette
case with hologrammatic bikini girls on it with a lighter on
the top. Thanks for the Stuyvie, girlfriend!
Craplister
Brent Edwards with Mick Molloy. Both are well over .05, as is
the photographer. Just before this photo was taken, Mark Rosenberg
had phoned Owen Brown to skite about how great the gig was, so
we all took it in turns to grab the phone and scream "FUCKING
AWESOME GIG YOU DIPPED OUT SUCK SHIIIIIIIIIIT!!!!!!"
Honour Blackman mention: occasional craplister Jason Hecker also took
digital photos on a mission from Eggy. Unfortunately his camera
wasn't behaving itself, but nevertheless he got some great shots,
if perhaps not quite what he was after. |
 A particularly good shot of Ron and Les Miserables. |
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 Hark back to the days of the Cleo centrefold,
when all manner of self-conscious and awkward props were used
to cover men's floppy bits. Admittedly, those props didn't generally
involve rock fan's heads.
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 Nor did they generally involve my elbow. I am a fig leaf!
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 This is the shot Hecker was TRYING to get, but
perhaps without the parallax error. Personally, I think the fact
that I've cut Ron's head off in this shot indicates to a certainty
that I'm a desperate old maid who should go and do push-ups in
the cucumber patch. Nice tan lines there.
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This is the Punter's Club roof after the
gig.
In all, a fitting tribute to one of Melbourne's great venues.
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