Nothing quite like the “full force of nature” is there….

I do wonder what the artist was thinking, when they decided to draw that image – but you have to admit, they have got the expressions spot on. Everytime I see it, it still gives me a chuckle. Brings a whole new meaning to the term “Team Jacob” don’t you think?

So WHY and HOW did I come across such a finely illustrated image?

Well, over the past few months (and mainly because I’m subjected to it endlessly by my peers at work) there has been a wealth of indie bands springing up every 2 hours on various pretentious “tastemaker” blogs. It turns out though, that they have quite a bit more in common than simply playing a similar style of music.

After a little research, imagine my surprise at these 8 discoveries!

1. They all have an animal related name.
2. They have at least one song with an animal in the title.
3. They all look like tedious Uni students.
4. They all sing about the changing of seasons and usually the various activities conducted by animals during said seasons.
5. They are all branded the next big thing, by the likes of Pitchfork and Hype Machine.
6. Their artwork has a very specific aesthetic, based around yep you’ve guess it, animals, collage and primitive illustrations.
6. 95% of them suck.
7.  Hipsters love them.
8. A least one member in the band has a beard.

Now before you think I’m making all of this up, I’ve actually put together a playlist, comprised ENTIRELY of indie bands with animal names – just so you can fully grasp how ridiculous the whole thing has become. (To date I have 91, I’m trying to get to 100.)

Have a listen to my official indie bands with animal names playlist here.

Frightening isn’t it….

And the deeper I researched, the scarier it became. As I stumbled across such shockingly bad names as “Summer Cats, Sue And The Unicorn, Seabear, Owl + Moth, Freelance Whales, Bear Hands, Collections Of Colonies of Bees, Ultra Dolphins and finally Avery Tear And Panda Bear”

It is utterly bizarre to me, that a genre of music can be so limp-wristed and cliched. I’m well aware of the fact, that death metal bands for instance have utterly ridiculous names – but that specific genre has been around for over 20 years. These indie bands have literally only been around since the start of maybe 2004 onwards. I can’t understand, why they all have to look the same, sound the same and then give themselves the same name – it’s like this odd indie checklist they all go through prior to releasing anything.

Here’s a video from “Seabear” complete with random montages of the woods, inoffensive bland vocals that could be anyone and someone who looks pretty much like those tedious Uni students I was mentioning before.

But thankfully, help is at hand.

There is one band, one indie artist, one genuine talent, one great hope – that stands tall, looming large over them all.

Yes BEARHAWK.

Who’s music sends you into such a state, you almost forget to use adjectives. Almost.

And really, I don’t need to say anything else about them – because you should already know how amazing they are. If you don’t, please don’t embarrass yourself by telling your friends you’ve not yet heard them – that would be tragic and cause you to appear musically and culturally bankrupt.

Instead, educate yourself by visiting their official site and experiencing the creme de la creme of everything indie.

Oh and for all you hipster kids, with your touch-type-net-speak  - please abbreviate to BRHWK  - that’s mandatory for any indie loving “I think I’m a professional photographer because I’ve installed the Lomo camera app on my iPhone” fan.

Much appreciated.

Alex

p.s. Disclaimer: I may or may not be involved with BRHWK.

Cameras, video cameras and even projectors were a staple of my childhood – my Dad was always a keen photographer, he took some truly stunning black and white shots of my Mum during the early years of their marriage, way back in the 1970s – some of which I’ve only just seen. And as a kid I always remember there being a heavy camera with a dense a robust lens on many an office or coffee table.

There were also numerous times when the video camera (arguably the size of bazooka at the time) was blinking it’s red light at me, recording various high school Christmas Nativity plays (I was usually a Shepard) or when I was skiing in Europe, clad in an embarrassing puffy shell-suit, comprised entirely of a shocking array of 80’s fluro colours.

I vividly remember Santa giving me one of those fantastic toy cameras (originally called The Viewmaster), where you would click and it clacked a new image in front of your eyes. I honestly thought it was the coolest thing ever, to the point where I deluded myself into believing I was taking a new photo each time (despite the reality of it continuously cycling through the same 10 photos) regardless of what was ACTUALLY in front of me.

The 10 pictures came on a card disc and were rather like the negatives you used to get with your photos using a 35mm camera. Each image was then magnified when you looked through the viewer, so that as a kid they appeared as large as a TV-sized image. It was certainly better than any Kaleidoscope I’d ever had, even if it was limited to a few photos. It made an awesome sound too.

I didn’t get my own “real” camera until middle school, which funnily enough I won in the school raffle. I remember it was painted silver and it looked really expensive, but when I was given it, I was bitterly disappointed because unlike all the cameras I’d seen at home, this one was a light-weight, made of  nasty plastic, with a cheap airbrushed silver look, a no-name brand that didn’t even have a flash.

Fast forward a few decades and I’d gone through a few digital cameras, always handy to capture parties and friends – but nothing that would really capture moments as it were. I use to pull some decent shots from my old Canon IXUS but nothing that I would ever call close to being “professional”.

So in late 2009, I invested in a Canon Digital SLR – several weeks rent, well spent as they say.

Since then, I’ve been putting it to good use and the definition and colour of my photos has come on in leaps and bounds. The difference is quite remarkable at times, even if the photos themselves aren’t always living up to the capabilities of the device itself.

I would never classify myself as a photographer, I’m acutely aware of my technical limitations and utter naivety about what makes a good photo. There are so many truly inspirational photographers out there in the world, who operate on an entirely different level, capturing images that defy logic and take your breath away. Photos that us mere mortals, could only ever dream of taking.

If you read this blog regularly, you’ll know that 2010 has been an incredibly dramatic year for me. But along the way, I’ve had my camera by side – documenting it all, even at some of the most inopportune moments. I think that is what photography should be about, being bold, harnessing a sense of occasion and revealing elements of the world around us, which we are normally blind to or simply take for granted.

With these images below, I hope you’re able to get some insight into the journey I’ve been on thus far, the places I’ve experienced and the emotions I’ve lived through since the start of 2010.

From each of the places I’ve been to, I’ve selected photos of personal significance or simply because I liked the shot.

Simply click on any image to view the rest of the photos in that album, or view the entire collection on my Flickr page.

I hope you enjoy these photos, notice their faults, see their strengths and let the feelings and emotions I tried to convey in each, resonate with you.

Even now, some of these are hard for me to look at, but I think that’s why I took them to begin with.

NORFOLK , UNITED KINGDOM MARCH (2010)

BARCELONA, SPAIN MARCH (2010)

AUTUMN IN SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA (2010)

HOLIDAY IN KIAMA, SYDNEY AUSTRALIA APRIL (2010)

MELBOURNE CITY, AUSTRALIA MAY (2010)

Alex

If you’d asked me at the start of 2009 if I would get the chance to see Arsenal play at The Emirates Stadium in North London as part of their 2009-2010 campaign, I would have said “No chance in hell sadly!”

But due to sheer luck, I was able to see my favourite team not once but TWICE this season. Both times I used a Thomas Cook Match Day Break package, you essentially get one night in a cool hotel in London and tickets to a premiership game. There’s no way the public can access tickets because every game is a sold out to members. People who have season tickets to see Arsenal keep them in the family haha they’re like the golden ticket handed down from generation to generation.

I’d see them play previously back during The Invincibles campaign back at Highbury, but this was the first time I’d seen them at the new stadium. The date December 27th 2009, the opponent Aston Villa. It was a truly amazing experience sitting in that stunning stadium watching my heroes. From staying up early to watch their games online, to reading club updates every day, to buying the shirt and wearing the merch, from engaging in banter with all my soccer friends and championing the Arsenal cause, all the way back to supporting them at highschool – to be sitting there, part of the new era for the club, in a wonderful stadium swelling with 60,000 red shirts really did blow my mind.

It was a fantastic game, one of the highlights of the season for the team. Locked at 0-0 after an frantic first half and desperately needing a win to stay in the title chase, Arsene Wenger opted to bring on the Arsenal Captain and talisman Cesc Fabregas (aged 22).

This is what happened in 28 short minutes. Absolute genius.

Fabregas vs Aston Villa

The match actually ended 3-0 to Arsenal, with Abou Diaby sliding in a neat finish right near full time.

Arsenal 3 Vs. Aston Villa 0 In The Preimer League 09\10, Round 19

As you can imagine, I went home a very happy camper indeed! To see your team win is one thing, to see them win in such dramatic fashion really was the icing on the cake. The atmosphere as you can imagine, was simply electric, literally you could hear the energy of 60,000 people going bananas crackling in the air.

Less than three months later, I got to see them play again, this time against relegation threatened West-Ham – who were literally fighting for their lives. I was actually in the UK with my mum at the time, so I thought it would be great to bring her along and let her enjoy the atmosphere and see how football SHOULD be played in the purest sense of the word. One touch passing, vision, skill, tricks, twists and turns – all carried off with confidence, class and style, the Arsenal way.

It was another standout game of the season, not because we went 1-0 in 13 minutes, but because defender Thomas Vermaelen we red carded soon after for what can only be describe as a “dubious” tackle directly in the box. West Ham stepped up for the penalty, if it had gone in Arsenal would have had a mountain to climb, a man down and drawing level inside 20 minutes….but instead, this happened…

So there you go, two visits to Arsenal in the 2009-2010 season, two stunning wins, a world-class cameo from Captain Cesc Fabregas, a fine penalty save from Manuel Almunia and 60,000 friends hugging, screaming, chanting and rejoicing at the effort, performance and dedication the team displayed.

As it stands, Arsenal finished the season a very very respectable 3rd (considering the amount of injuries we had) and I am so proud to have been a part of their season, it’s an experience I’ll never forget.

GO THE GUNNERS!

Alex

Wow so i last checked in here, was way back on February 15th – that’s 58 days ago to be precise.

But what 58 days they have been.

Spanning 4 different countries, over 20,000km, soaked in tears, immersed in laughter and joined together by seemingly countless airport lounges, surreal situations and mixed with a healthy dose of syncronicity. It has proved to be without question, one of the most dramatic periods in my life, a sharp shifting of focus and a stern reminder that change, with all it’s trappings of fear, excitement and unknown, is inevitable.

I don’t really know where or how I can begin, because in my mind, to truly grasp the enormity of the past 58 days, you’d have to have stood in my shoes, juggling with a whirlwind of emotions each and every second, finding yourself at a loss to explain any of it.

But I suppose one should start attempt to start at the beginning, So it is from here, that I shall try my best to sum up this series of unusual and unexpected events.

Monday February 22nd 2010

The wheels of change rotated and creaked into motion, first thing the on Monday – via my inbox.

After dating for over a year, and without any warning, my girlfriend decided it was best if we broke up. There was nothing sinister about it, she simply came to the conclusion things had run their course, even if I didn’t at the time. Over the past 12 months, was I good boyfriend? Definitely. Could I have been a better boyfriend? Unquestionably. I genuinely can’t pinpoint the reason we broke up to a specific event or situation – the time had come it seemed, to simply move on

We had a fantastic ride along the way though, we really really did – some of our memories will stay with me forever. We had a deep shared interest in art, fashion, movies and music, but ultimately none of it proved enough to make it a longstanding union – sometimes you just have to accept the situation for what it truly is.

She taught me so many things, many of them indirectly, about how the world isn’t always black and white, that less is more, that being subtle and shy are two totally different things, how sometimes its ok to not be 100% in control, to see where life takes you, and that above all, how you should always strive to do something that makes you happy. That sound obvious I know, but it’s easy to lose sight of that at times, it’s easy to get caught up in other people’s demands of you and be swayed by the lure of what’s expected.

But when I reflect on the time she and I spent together, the experienced we shared, the funny conversations we had, our common bond and secret love for lame rom-coms – I do so, without any regret, ill feeling or sense of injustice. It’s always a very sad and disheartening situation when you break up, especially with someone you have vast affection for and after such a long time. Yet there’s no easy way to tell someone you don’t love them anymore, either way you’re both going to get hurt. And whilst receiving the news via an e-mail wasn’t ideal – and after countless nights staring at the ceiling wondering we could have done differently, in the long run I think she inevitably made the right choice.

She’s now on a different path and I’m on an different trajectory entirely, but all you can ask for anyone you truly care about, is that they find happiness both within themselves and with someone who will love them equally. Two people that give each other butterflies every time they see one another. We had that, yet somewhere along the line, lost it.

But I do hope one day she will once again feel those fuzzy butterflies swirling around her tummy  and on that occasion, be able to hold onto them for good.

Wednesday February 24th (2 days later)

A mere two days later, at 10am as I sat at my desk staring out across Sydney’s rooftops, I got a hurried SMS from Jules (my Dad’s wife) along the lines of “Need to speak ASAP”. 6 weeks previously, I was with my Dad in the UK celebrating his birthday, wedding and bringing in the New Year. As many of you know, he was in poor health then, but the worst case was that he would have another 3-6 months. I told him that I would come back, to be by his side during those last few days.

But I never got the chance.

I left the office (walking down the same street after my ill-fated meeting with the boss) and made the call to the UK. I expected to hear “He’s suddenly got worse, you should come back soon.”

When I answered all I heard was

“Hey Alex, I’m so sorry but your Dad died today. Peacefully in bed with Beth and I by his side. I was talking to him and I said, if you want to go, you can…he squeezed my hand and with that he took a deep breath and exhaled. The curtain near the open window shifted at the very moment and we both knew that his spirit had literally floated out of the room. It was so peaceful. Tonight, when you’re by yourself, I’m telling everyone who knew him, to raise a glass to the sky and gave him one final toast – as he sets out on his next sailing adventure or hunt up there.” and then she and I both dissolved into tears, broken words and unfinished sentences.

I can’t really describe the sheer weight news like that has on you, it’s as if everything literally becomes frozen in time. The world stops spinning and everything falls silent. You’re standing there just reeling from it, as a myriad of emotions pan around you – like some unnaturally lucid dream.

As the tears started to seep into the screen of my BlackBerry, I messaged my boss and said “My Dad just died. Going home.” and I didn’t return to my desk for 4 weeks. I literally just left everything hanging in midair, stumbled home in an utter daze and booked my flights.

So there you have it, the first chapter as it were – as I recount these past 58 days.

6 days into it, a girlfriend who decided I wasn’t the one and a father who was given the timely and gentle release of death. They say change happens often all at once, but even I found that all just too much to handle, I was utterly overwhelmed and overpowered by it all. My life, was suddenly was filled with sadness and loss in the space of six dramatic unexpected days.

Not the ideal way to start 2010 admittedly, but trust me – things do get a little better in my next chapter. They couldn’t get much worse after all.

Thanks, as always, for taking the time and for being here for me,
Alex

THEY DID IT!

My beloved Sydney FC were officially crowned the minor premiers on February 14th 2010, after beating Melbourne Victory, 2-0 at home in front of 25,000+ Sydneysiders! Melbourne needed only a draw to win the championship, but in one of the most dramatic endings to a fantastic season, Sydney FC put on stunning display to seal a 2-0 win and claim the championship by one point.

Sydney FC 2009-2010 A-league Minor Champions!

To win the championship is one thing, to win it at home against your biggest rival and to do so, with such a spectacular performance is quite another. I’m so proud of the team, after being a member for 4 seasons now, I’ve experienced all the different highs and lows it comes with being a loyal supporter of any team – from seeing them hammered at home 3-1, to days like yesterday which were simply brilliant.

Last year we didn’t even make the final series, this season we’ve won the league. The contrast couldn’t be any different. And it’s all down to our brillant new coach Czech coach Vitezslav Lavicka who has installed in the team, a genuine European style of quick paced attacking football.

Two phenomenal goals, one a 25-yard volley from Karol Kisel and a sublime 20m finish from John Aloisi was enough to ensure the championship came home with Sydney FC in the first time in their history.

See video highlights, including those two utterly mesmerising goals right here

Karol Kisel celebrates scoring against Melbourne Victory

Here’s hoping we can beat Melbourne in the Grand Final too.

So happy!!!

p.s. You can follow Sydney FC on Twitter here and make sure you snap up your Sydney FC membership for the 2010/2011 season – they’ve going to go fast.

More stories here
Sydney Hungry For More Success
Kisel Thrilled With Triumph
Sydney Claim The Premiership
Sky Blues Take The Title
Newly Crowned Minor Premiers Prove Their Big-Match Temperament

It was just over a month ago, that I was in the icy realm of the UK celebrating my father’s birthday, wedding and bringing in New Years Eve with him. Three wonderful moments in anyone’s life, sitting alongside one another in perfect unison on December 31st 2009

Already it feels like those dramatic 11 days were so long ago – but they will remain with me, both haunting and comforting me for the rest of my life. 44 hours up in the air, traveling along dark icy roads and celebrating my birthday at 33,000 ft over Eastern Europe admittedly wasn’t much fun, so it’s been an unusual and surreal start to 2010 to say the least.

It was a bitter sweet trip, the friends, family, conversations, laughs and smiles tapered with the unavoidable fact that my Dad is suffering deeply from advanced cancer, the pain of which is at times utterly debilitating and all consuming for him.

It is heartbreaking to see anyone in pain, but when it’s your own father, wincing in his sleep, as you patiently wait for the morphine to kick in and provide some respite, it is one of the most confronting & distressing images I think any child can be faced with.

During one of his better days, I sat there in his office, as it snowed outside, the world on mute as he stared out to the white horizon and calmly said, “I’ll be lucky to see out another Christmas like this”. There was a pause. And then silence.

He said it not with fear in his voice but with a calm air of resignation, as if he had accepted the reality he may very well face. I on the other hand couldn’t and still can’t. It was a chilling premonition to reconcile and it’s an even harder memory to now revisit.

I don’t think any amount of words can’t accurately do justice to the way it makes you feel hearing an admission of such gravity. The words hang in the air like dense thick soup. It’s even more saddening when deep down, despite your best attempts, part of you is inclined to agree with that assertion.

I am truly a believer in the advances, power and resolve of science, I have a tremendous amount of faith and admiration for doctors. They helped him overcome the illness 10 years ago, but when you’re privy to terms like “quality of life” being banded around, it’s a sobering realization that there might not be a repeat performance.

But one thing I do know, with absolute certainty, is that December 31st 2009 will go down as one of the happiest days in his life, his wife Jules’ and mine.

From the church to the reception, to the dinner and the celebrations – I watched with my camera from the sidelines, trying to capture moments, the real essence of the occassion, its wealth of emotions, the warmth of the day and the hopefulness which permeated all four corners of it.

And what I saw above all was my real Dad shining through, with his new wife and sweet-natured daughter (and my sister) by his side.

He was utterly and thoroughly in the moment, to the point where I don’t think he even realized he was in pain. He reminded me of the man I had seen 6 years ago on my trip previously – larger than life, looking a little older but still as charismatic, bold and magnanimous as ever.

The distractions of well-wishers, outrageous stories, refills of red wine and unanimous bursts of laughter from the whole room utterly eclipsed whatever doom and gloom the previous days had brought.

The look of anguish and frustration, which had been riddled across his face since I arrive a few days before, was replaced that booming laugh, his eyes often tightly shut in fits of giggles and his trademark smile sat squarely touching ear to ear.

Mind over matter say they say.

It was a day filled with endless smiles, heartfelt tears and recollections of wonderful stories – the likes of which even the most brilliant imagination couldn’t conjure up.

What was almost instantly highlighted to me was just how much of an impact my Dad’s life, his generosity, support, advice and the experiences that he shared had genuinely had on others.

I was deeply proud to be his son that day. I saw another side to one of the most important individuals in my life and it was a side, which I had all too frequently underestimated all my life I think.

And I knew deep down, that even if this was to be his final public appearance before his illness became too overwhelming, he couldn’t have asked for a better finale, it was a graceful, dignified, compassionate and deeply moving end to just one of the chapters in his life.

I can only hope that when I get to his age, that I too am surrounded by such fantastic company with so many true and genuine characters.

It was as if we all existed in another place, a happier time, willing to leave our fears and preconceived ideas at the door and simply embrace each other – a genuine camaraderie brought and bound together by his legacy, love and friendship.

Getting married is suppose to be the happiest day of your life and I think the events of that day, with family and friends reunited, birthdays and New Years Eve celebrations entwined, all served as a rock solid signed, sealed and delivered declaration that everyone was utterly lost in the magic and memories of it all.

I can only hope, that at least some of my photos managed to capture even the faintest hint, of such a truly magnificent time in all our lives.

I love you Dad.

Your son

Alex

I’m sitting here in my Dad’s office in the heart of Nofolk in the United Kingdom, overlooking the field beyond, with snow gently falling all around. It’s peacefully calm, bitingly crisp and it feels like the world has been temporarily muted – to the point where I’m not even sure what time of the day it is.

Just to show you that I’m not some whimsical writer with a habit of embelishment, here’s a video I literally just shot from being outside. This is the view from my window.

There is something really comforting and clarifying about spending a few days here in the countryside, huddled away from distractions and the general buzz of any metropolitan city.

It’s quite a therapeutic, if obviously cold experience – there’s this vast space for your thoughts, fears, hopes and dreams to run free amongst. I know that for some, it might be a bleak picture, but here, in the moment, you can smell the scent of damp leaves in the air, burning wood on log fires and hear the sound of  frosty grass crunching under your feet.

My step-brother Oliver thought it would be fun to take me into the woods and show me a camp site he built, several summers ago deep in the forest. It was a place he said “Where I could do my own thing and not have to worry about anything else.” So with trepidation and quiet excitement I ventured out with him, in search of those long lost childhood memories of the unexpected and carefree kind.

Now to give you an insight, as to what it was like –  you can see a quick video below, which I shot in the depths of the wintry forest itself.

As you can see from the clip, it was like being lost in the land of Narnia! To be perfectly, honest I was half expecting Mr Tumnas to appear next to me and ask me in for tea and biscuits.

Instead foxes, deer and Jackalope scattered past, black blurry shapes scuttling off into the distance, their footprints etched in the snow. I fought my way through the razor sharp brambles and wire fences, a little spooked and certainly overwhelmed by the beauty of it all. And I’m not ashamed to admit it, I even fell over, sliding down a ditch onto my ass.

Snow plus ditch = the perfect slide.

It really is worlds apart from my life back home in Sydney, physically and especially mentally – 22 hours to get here, but many more years between my childhood home and current dwelling. I’ve been capturing lots of photos and images, to document my 11 days here, including my trip to London.

Click on the slide show below, to see the images I’ve taken so far, I hope you like them, I’d like to think they’re an accurate portrayal of this moment.

I think it’s always nice to have photos, after all they serve as the perfect fuel to reignite lost memories don’t you think?

Hope you’re having a great start to the New Year

Alex

Marilyn Manson has just released his brand new video for the track ‘Running To The Edge Of The World’ which is from his recently released record ‘The High End Of Low’.

A word of warning, the clip isn’t for the faint of hearted. It was directed by the man himself in a hotel room and needless to say….it doesn’t disappoint.

You can watch it below, or by clicking here

Alex

This particular blog entry, however, is about the second part of my holiday in Melbourne (not my most recent trip) and if I don’t write it down now, I think it will fade from the annuals of my memory entirely (especially as the past few weeks have become nothing more than a frenetic blur.) So I’m going to just dive straight in (Alzheimer’s permitting), from where I left off last time.

So, day number two in Melbourne commence with a brisk and vigorous search for breakfast in the city. As I’m sure you’ve been told, Melbourne has a wealth of cafes dotted between various side streets and alleys, perfect for that mid morning brekkie urge, when you’ve woken up with the munchies and an intoxicating need for bacon.

After looking at the menu at Hairy Canary (I don’t know why you’d name a cafe that either, but there you go) it instantly got our seal of approval. Their menu laid out a utopian breakfast in such yummy and intricate detail, that it actually made you MORE hungry as you were reading it.

Perfect way to start, what would become a busy Sunday.

(Or so I thought.)

I sat there, partially drooling, my mind clouded with thoughts of the wondrous gourmet feast about to make love to my eyes, the sizzling bacon, the warm fluffy scrambled eggs & the crunchy sourdough toast.

And then, without warning,  I was suddenly hauled back to reality, with a stiff and firm clunk. My ‘breakfast’ had finally decided to emerge from its former home, the clattering & quarrelsome kitchen.

I’d chosen the “Big Brekkie”, which essentially is bacon, roasted tomato, sausages and eggs – a heart-attack on a plate I’m well aware, but so utterly amazing you’re willing to run the risk.

Well, usually.

However, the big brekkie that half-heartedly stared back at me, wasn’t ANYTHING like I’d imagined. Served in a mini frying pan, everything was literally fused together, in a sort of pan-fried vomit ensemble.

The eggs were poached (not scrambled) the bacon was mere strips of fat in disguise, the tomato looked like it had been microwaved to within an inch of it’s life and the sausages took the form of some strange phallic-shaped Spanish salami.

W.T.F indeed.

Apparently, at least for the chef’s at Hairy Canary, this is gourmet breakfast Melbourne style. But as I nervously poked and prodded at it, my stomach rumbled with the almost instant realization, that it was going to have to go on being hungry for a little while longer.

I left the Hairy Canary feeling almost as empty, as when I went in. Not the ideal start to the day I’m sure you’ll agree.

Along with it’s cafe culture and boutique fashion stores, Melbourne is also predominantly known for embracing of all things arty. If you’re an artist (in whatever form) in Melbourne, you will get numerous fuzzy hugs from the arts council and even more opportunities to display your wares.

There are galleries, live venues and stand-up clubs all scattered around the city – infinitely  more than there is in Sydney. In fact,  even graffiti is promoted as a tourist feature and in the case of Melbourne at least, with good reason.

There’s the famous ACDC Lane (named after the band) which showcases some of the cities upcoming graffiti artists, but there’s several other lane-ways and passages nearby which are home to hundreds of vastly more intricate and interesting characters. Each have been spray painted with care, ablaze in colour with many of them peaking from behind recently pasted band posters.

You can tell many of these wonderful and often mischievous characters are the result of a generation who’s youth was spent watching trippy 80’s cartoons, daily doses of  Seseme Street and endless hours spent playing Mario Brothers, Pac-Man, Sonic The Hedgehog, Alex Kidd and Donkey King.

You can see more images from the streets of Melbourne, in the slideshow at the bottom of this blog and here

Now we’ve covered ’static’ art in Melbourne, it seems only appropriate that I shed a bit of light on some ‘moving’ art we took in as well. Centrally located, the Australian Center For The Moving Image (more commonly know as ACMI) really was a highlight of the trip.

Admittedly, it’s name is rather pretentious, but once you get inside the center itself, it all begins to make sense. Throughout the entire exhibit, the history of “the moving image” is showcased. From its initial incarnation of shadows and puppets, through to the arrival of TV, its expansion into movies, strobe lights, delay effects all of which which lead onto video games, personal computers, the birth of the Internet, wireless devices and motion capture technology.

And far from being one of those tedious galleries where there are simply pictures and information heavy wall mounted plaques everywhere, the ACMI has models you could touch, twist, turn, rotate, pull, press and interact with.

ACMI – Matrix Stop Motion

Alex | MySpace Video

We even shamelessly played a few rounds of Pong, danced in front of a screen as giant Godzilla shaped shadow (complete with sound effects) and jumped very briefly into a starring role in The Matrix movie.

It’s the type of place where as a kid, you’d be unable to contain yourself, destined to walk around with your eyes wide open and a huge smile swept across your face and in fact, even as an adult, you’d be hard pressed not be impressed by the sheer fun and trip down memory lane on offer.

Next door was an exhibition by NZ artist Len Lye. Now I freely admit I’d never heard of the chap, indeed when I walked into the first room featuring his work, I rashly came to that conclusion as to why that was.

Projected onto the walls, was a collection of video displays featuring various coloured slides and shapes, in random patterns. It was tedious, directionless and incredibly uninspiring all at that same time. “I could have done that.” I thought and judging by the disappointed and weary looks from everyone else in the room, they all collectively agreed.

But how silly I was judge Len Lye with such flippant disregard, because as I rounded the corner into the second room, I was greeted with a spectacle that really did make change my opinion of him a complete 180 degrees.

The room was covered in dark grey carpet surrounded by even darker walls, 6 or so high intensity spotlights projected downwards onto 6 metal sculptures, all of which moved with a calm kinetic energy entirely of their own accord.

Sheets of metal that waved violently as you walked past, tiny strands of steels the width of your hair that shimmed as the air flow changed direction – it was as if every object had a personality, a mood and energy of its own. Beautifully done, crafted to perfection and mesmerising at the same time. The inanimate, literally coming to life.

The final part of the day, was spent under the band of a blurry rainbow, as we traversed some small market stalls, saw a lifesized cardboard castle / art installation (sounds exciting but it wasn’t lol) and then headed back late afternoon for a seriously yummy Mexican dinner in South Yarra.

Later that night we went and saw the second Marilyn Manson show in Melbourne (we had seats this time) and I have to stay it was a marked improved from the night previously. The band seemed to put more effort in and the sound was noticeably better. ( Still not a patch on the Sydney shows though.)

After the show, we found ourselves back at the Crown Casino (the only thing centrally located that was open past 11.30pm on a Sunday) having the few drinks in the lobby, surrounded by the constant whirring of machines and squeals of delight as people hit numerous jackpots.

There was even a famous b-grade actor floating around, I have no idea what his name was, but his ADDIDAS tracksuit and Brooklyn accent lead me to believe he was probably in The Soprano’s or another mafia / gangster affair. But probably the funniest part of the evening, was reserved for the food court at the casino.

Imagine the type of people you’d get in there at 2am, ties all loose, bloodshot eyes, empty wallets, high heels in hand, ordering kebabs and a chips whilst wearing suits and sequins! If I tried to remember all the wonderful characters that were stumbling around at that hour, I would be here forever – but the stand outs in my mind, would have to be the guy in the baby blue, one piece suit with trainers on and SERIOUSLY a cougar version of the lovable Vicky Pollard from Little Britain. I can’t tell how upset I was, that I didn’t have my camera on me

And then, Monday, quick breakfast in the city (yes, it was MUCH better than Hairy Canary I’m please to report) before leaping on the SkyBus and heading back to the airport.

It had a been a quick holiday, but a much needed break. I think looking back on it all, Yummy Yasmin and I really crammed in a lot of things during such a short stay, I only really went down to see Marilyn Manson, so it was great that we got to do all that extra stuff in between.

Melbourne then….would I live there? Probably not. But do I think it’s a great place to visit? Absolutely

Alex

You can see more photos from the trip here, or by hitting play on the slideshow below

So 5 days and 1,926 kilometers later, my whirlwind holiday with my partner in crime, the one and only Yummy Yasmin, has sadly come to an end – boooo!. (This is why I went down)

But there’s much to celebrate, in fact, so much happened in such a short space of time, that I’m desperately writing it all down to share it with you, before I forget some of the situations and highlights, in what was a frenetic and fun few days.

(I’m going to split the trip into two blog entries, because otherwise we’ll both be here all day. So think of this as the first act, with the second act to follow in a few days.)

Now for anyone that has flown to Melbourne from Sydney, this shouldn’t come as much of a surprise, but no sooner had we taken off from Sydney’s domestic terminal, we landed in Melbourne!

One of the shortest and thankfully smoothest flights I’ve ever been on (and trust me I’ve spent a bit of time whizzing around in the air) quite why anyone would consider driving for 12 hours in a crammed car, crawling along the motorway, when it’s nearly as cheap, certainly a lot easier easy and much faster to fly is any-one’s guess.

I was really impressed with Virgin Blue as whole and the longstanding cliche of their attractive, tall, slim blond air-hostess certainly got a chuckle out of me. Quite how Mr Richard Branson gets around workplace discrimination I’ll never know, but hey for eye-candy value alone, you certainly won’t hear me complaining.

During our stay, home for the next 72 hours, would be the 5 -Star Como Hotel in South Yarra, situated no less than on one of the main shopping areas in Melbourne, Chapel Street.

I’ve been to Melbourne a few times, yet never been to South Yarra before. What I’d been told held true, it’s undeniably an affluent area, similar to Paddington / Woolahra in Sydney, with lots of boutique shops, filled with lots of upper and middle class Caucasian people, all looking rather fashionable, the chaps with their Ray Bans, the ladies direct from the salon with their freshly styled hair.

The wah? Who? Erm....

And yet for all the obvious money on display, the locals fluttered past displaying an air of confidence, without ever coming close to being pretentious – which was both refreshing and rarely seen in Sydney. They didn’t seem to have to prove a point, maybe the notion that Melbourne has an inferiority complex, is merely a myth?

Chapel Street is actually a really long stretch of shops that spans several different suburbs. When you’re leaving one and crossing over into another, you can immediately feel the entire aesthetic of the area change literally from one meter to the next. High fashion outlets, suddenly morph into second hand bookstores, whilst the Prada shoes which once tapped on the sidewalk next to you, become replaced with the flip flop echo of a pair of Havana’s.

Life imitating art

One particular shop, was a Halloween store, or rather a store which pretty much had every sort of Halloween inspired, witchy, spooky, gothic attire ones little black heart could desire. It also had some fucking HUGE replica spiders dangling from various devices throughout the shop.

However, they were all unbeknown to me as I walked in (you can see where this is going right?). I turned around only to be confronted with a ginormous black hairy tarantula, legs fanned out on the ledge next to me! It was so big, heavy and bulky in its appearance, it could have literally have been used as a doorstop!

If I went to burgle a house and was confronted with that on the floor as I opened the door, rest assured I would be a mere dot disappearing over the horizon!

Rather worryingly, out of the corner of my eye, I could see another one dangling in the center of a web and to my utter horror within seconds, I started seeing them all around the shop, yes it turns out, I was literally surround by a den of large black threatening spiders in all shapes and sizes. Some where hairy, some had fangs, some were in webs and some were made of shiny black rubber.

It was the stuff of nightmares, honestly.

I’m not ashamed to admit, I have a genuine phobia of spiders, anyone who knows me well, is aware that I simply can’t handle being near them, real or not. Upon the realisation that I was almost certainly surrounded  by the damn things, the room started spinning and I felt suddenly out of breath, so I closed my eyes stumbling towards the exit, fearing that I might be confronted with even more, as I made my escape.

I was so stressed out by the whole ordeal, I literally had to sit on the street for a few minutes to catch my breath  and regain some semblance of composure

It got me thinking, though, that there should be warning signs in shops like that, for people who suffer from the very real fear of arachnophobia?

When you going to concert or a exhibit that uses strobe lights, people with epilepsy are given advanced warning, am I right? So if you have a phobia of a certain creature (and I think a high proportion of people have a strong fear of or keen dislike for spiders in general anyway), don’t you think a shop which sells them or their likeness, should providing warnings as well?

I know if they had, I wouldn’t have had to endure such a panic attack.

Yet strangely enough, it’s moments like this, which holidays are made up of, for better or worse. But, as you can imagine, I shan’t be revisiting that shop anytime soon.

Later that night, before the first of 2 Marilyn Manson shows at the festival hall, we went to an All-American themed diner called ‘Sodarock’. When I say “All-American” it genuinely was, old-skool jukebox machines blaring out 1960’s swing, a life sized Elvis Presley and amusingly enough, they even served “Spiders” (2 scoops of vanilla-ice cream into a flavored soda) on the menu.

But the real highlight of the experience came half way through our meal, when the entire staff of the restaurant suddenly leaped from behind the counter and promptly started to dance in unison to ‘Shake Your Tailfeather’ by Ray Charles & Blues Brothers Band.

Clearly rehearsed, it never the less had the entire restaurant grinning from ear to ear (myself included) in apparent confusion and surprise. Synchronized, dancing 1960’s waitress’s, rounds of applause and a yummy meal who would have thought?

Now, as you know, the main reason I flew to Melbourne, was to see Marilyn Manson on tour (dedicated fan I know!) I actually ended up seeing him 4 times in 5 days.

Marilyn Manson On Tour 2009

Melbourne Festival Hall Saturday October 10th 2009 (sold out)
Melbourne Festival Hall Saturday October 11th 2009
Sydney Enmore Theatre Tuesday October 13th 2009
Sydney The Hordern Pavillion October 14th (sold out)

Now I don’t want to bore you with all the details, if you’re not a fan, little of it will make much sense anyway, SO here’s a summary spanning the 4 shows, otherwise I’ll be here all day haha.

1. Melbourne crowds are vastly different to Sydney ones. Much more subdued and docile. In fact, most of them seem to be utterly obsessed with taking photos of themselves during the show, than actually watching it.

2. The Festival Hall in Melbourne, has a really shit P.A. system, the whole venue actually reminded me of a sports gymnasium

3.  The best show by a long long way, was the final one I saw at the Hordern Pavillion. Best crowd, strong performance and decent sound.

4. He’s certainly done better tours, but I did like the striped back approach this time. More about the music, less about the theatrics.

5. Decent setlist, would have liked to have heard something from The Golden Age of Grotesque album though.

6. He’s still got it and for the most part, was in good spirits “You do realize Melbourne, that I am the man, with the golden dick?” haha although he is looking a little older now. He’s certainly not over-weight, as the press may have lead you to believe – trust me, I got a good look being so close to the front of the stage

7. Standout track of the entire tour strangely enough, was Dope Show, crowd loved it on all 4 occasions. Lowlight, the rather flat version of Tourniquet at both Melbourne shows and ridiculously over-priced merch. $125 for a hoodie, wah?

8. He played one less song at both Sydney shows. So Melbourne, I guess you got more value of money! Tourniquet, was left out (and not replaced either) at both Sydney shows, not sure why.

9. Twiggy was awesome as usual.

10. The Sydney crowds had more energy, made more noise and had a much bigger and better mosh.

Finally, here’s some photos from Melbourne and here’s a playlist I put together, featuring some of my favorite tracks.

After the 1st show, Yasmin and I headed back to the city, on a mission to find a nice bar to see out the night with. Whilst it’s clearly a tourist destination, some of the bars and restaurants at the Crown Casino Complex are actually really good, and with a view on the Yarra River complete with soft city lighting, they turn out to be perfect place to end an evening.

Decisions, decisions....

We ended up going to a little place called Nobu where we had some rather yummy cocktails, I can’t for the life of me remember what was in them, but I do remember thinking I could pretty much drink them for eternity they were that good. It was quite funny really, going from the hooded PVC gothic hordes of the concert with their plastic cups of VB, to the sharp suits and dim lighting of one of Melbourne’s finest cocktail lounges. Nobu then, two thumbs up from me.

After that, it was back to the hotel for an amazing spa bath, THE perfect way to end the day. I really wish I had one of those in my own house, ah the novelty of hotels – I could have stayed in that spa forever after spending nearly 16 hours on my feet all day.

So there you have it, day one, easy flight, the beautiful people, dancing waiters, spiders of vengeance, sweaty goths, lip smackin’ cocktails and walks along the Yarra River at night.

Now if you thought that was decent first day, wait until I post my review & photos from the second day. A Trip To Melbourne – Act 2, will follow soon.

Until then, isn’t it about time that YOU booked a holiday? Go on, after reading all that, you know you want to haha.

Alex