Ah Melbourne, the Tote, the Tote-Mother, proud mother of a million or more gigs seemingly, so proud is their heritage as a venue.
Jealousy and envy are a two fingered throwback throw-up common to most conceited arrogant entitled gits and i am no exception.
You can tell the respect your outfit is assigned by the ‘rider’ [aussie for ‘bar tab’] ascribed to your unit, and the tote was especially generous on this occasion, not running dry on pints of Fat Yak on tap as the day is long.
I can’t quite comprehend after all these years and in a foreign clime we are about to not only perform yet another incredible gig, see some fantastic bands for free as well as meeting up again with he legendary ms Reta leQuesne, great to catch up with after many many years, looking well 🙂
The Tote is quite an institution evidenced by the pride taken in its brag lists of performers and pub based merchandise such as beer cooler rubbers, t shirts with minute lists of acts that have played the tote in the past, etc.
The Tote does seem to be a professional outfit, and the P.A. is undoubtedly the rocking-est of the tour, evidenced in the soundcheck and subsequent gig, an effortless instant ‘Hello Sailor’ / ‘Dragon’ / ‘Jimmy Barnes’ big rock sound from the first kick drum soundcheck, without raising as much as a bubble of sweat.
Satanic Rockers and Mad Nanna are both the most repressed and the most free units in this commonwealth, possibly due to the penal nature of the historic penal australian colony, but this has its own repercussions in terms of how it affects the guiltless, the guilt-free, the ‘ordinary’, the downtrodden, the belligerent self-righteous and the beerless.
There comes a time and point when and where, as a touring unit, we must realign our ley-lines to face-facet our connections with the file system.
The Satanic Rockers are the filthiest quiet rock band i have encountered to date in modern times -and when it comes to filthy quiet rock outfits i’ve seen more than my fair share ; Mad Nanna marginally less filthy but no less menacing , we are all boys here with the exquisite exception of Angie from Circle Pit who is most definitely a chick, and a hot one to boot.
Satanic Rockers played a sterling stellar set through what can only be described as the best and most well managed PA system in the small segment of venues we have sampled to date, the sum of values we have attempted to proclivicate in terms of projecting our message to the worlds best extent is overwhelming.
Satanic Rockers (NZ) performed flawlessly, the best i have see them in my short experience of gigging with them and hanging out with their seething indecisive yet conducive reasoning blocs. What more can i say, spit into the canister?
‘Pignose’ a particularly poignant fingers up to the establishment, the ultimate ‘fuck you’ to spoilt rock’n’roll royalty with a feces-despoilt finger playfully stirring the pudding.
The Mad Nanna, legendary suburban Melbourne conglomerate and proud advocates of the slow simmered rock movement bubbled their way though another way out of the box set box set, each gig stepping the slow cooker school of rock forward exactly one step ahead.’
Simmering like an irked freshwater croc fresh off being hoodwinked atop a coolibah tree and being sprinkled tastelessly with salt water and wretched potato crisps.
Especially flown in from Sydney, the second city, to fill the house, the Circle Pit do their shit on the Tote in typically manifest manner, confident, tight, cutest band of the night by the narrowest of noses, they know how to work a rockin room.
I cannot describe adequately in words the vibe that is about on such a nite, travelling and playing some fairly raucous rock songs by anyones measure, but passion speaks volumes and our passionate set this night, the first with my rejuvenated arm partially reactivated after the dreadnought events of the vicious Wandella beatings i had hoped to put behind me but haunts me to this day. I don’t consider myself a particularly vindictive person but do rate myself as a moral arbiter with more considered thought and reflection than the majority of pious so-called christians.
We played next, having exhausted our generous rider of Fat Yak Pints hours earlier, a searing set hurried along by the tote’s relentless close-out schedule, finally silenced only by Nick ‘nth wheel’ the Mixer ‘s manic watch-pointing antics after a couple of rousing encores. the tote runs a tight ship.
As a longterm Axeman and tryhard nice person i was particularly proud of the team on this evening, the professionalism and showmanship exuded by all was nothing short of majestic.
The class of 2011 Axemen are a force to be reckoned with, musically perhaps there is a gap where bob used to live, he was invited to come and declined, in summary his non-presence made the sojourn much more pleasant than his presence would have contributed to the trip. As a barely functional mediated git myself i have no time or energy for coddling such a conceited self-serving disrespectful immature asshole such as bob is these days.
I wouldn’t want to seem bitter about it though. In my opinion Bob is a talented songwriter , a cringingly likeabale personality on the surface, with nothing underneath, morally, physically, philosophically, or anythingly, and more recently just a dick. but what would i know? Bob who?
See you next time at the Wiredly Tote!