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the great experiment - broken ribs, three gigs in two weeks...

...and a truckload of beers. This is the beginning of the wrap-up of what was arguably the busiest ten days of the Helpers short existence. And it is way overdue. Waaaaay. So much overdue that the teacher has already marked it "zero", flunked the author, and gone on holidays. Some people believe in the ideal "better late than never". This is written for those people.

20/8/08 - Variety Club Bash

Wudinna was invaded by Kung Fu Pandas, bongo hitting Hippies, a bunch of fairies, as well as Boof, Les and Mods. None of whom ever ventured anywhere near the music tent during the Helpers' set which, in a way, added a touch of sour to the overdose of sweets that had been flung at passer-bys all afternoon.

The Geezers, on the other hand, were a treat to meet. Rick was over the moon when he discovered he is not alone in the use of stage props in his performance. The Geezers also pretend to read the words of songs, as Rick does, to impart a sense of kinmanship with the audience. Keep it up Rick... you've got them all fooled!

It has to be said straight out... the boys couldn't help but feel a bit unloved as they got geared up to play. Three hundred plus people were crammed into the footy club (along with those 5 star celebs: boof, les and mods) while the boys stood up in front of about thirty reject punters who were forced to munch their dinner in the tent. It didn't help matters that as soon as the boys did a quick sound check somebody mentioned how loud the band was.

It wasn't all doom and gloom... by the end of the evening the crowd had filled out a touch, some drunken blokes and chicks were schmoozing the dance floor/grass/thing. And the boys ripped it up pretty well. Except for Flinty that is. The first song the boys had a crack at was Bow River and the would-be-drummer totally shagged his "one moment to shine" in the drum solo. Out of the twenty-eight skin hits Flinty must've nailed about five of them. He tried to pass it off as a combination of nerves, cold hands and not enough beers but everyone knew it was really down to disappointment that Boof never came out for a look. To cap it all off, Flinty got a "don't play this one too fast, alright?" from SuperDuper... you know your having a bad night when the phantom starts dishing out advice!

Not to be outdone... Rick joined in the fool-making festivities when he forgot to add the lyrics to the band's latest song into his "stage prop". He was on his own highway to hell but nobody seemed to mind or even notice because, by that stage, the beers were flowing and the grass was being trampled into mud.

Possibly the worst news from the night was also the most ridiculous. In a sneaky set-up, Flinty's missus organised her long-time friend, Amy, to do a feature on the Helpers for the Advertiser. It just so happened that she was the journalist covering the Bash. Sadly, all the photographer took were photos of Flinty. Bad move. Looking like a bum a few beers short of a carton, the unappointed icon of the band ruined any chance of featuring in the paper. Check the pics out for yourself if you don't believe me. As one punter put it (quite bluntly I might add)... there was a bit of confusion from the crowd as to whether the drummer was autistic or just having a damn good time! The article was subsequently vetoed by the editors as "too weird and ugly" and never made it to print. There goes the one shot at fame for the boys!

23/8/08 - Pub Gig the third...

Not the third of three gigs... but the third time for the boys to woo the monster crowds that congregate at the town's watering hole in the band's brief (but growing) existence. This part of the blog will now be presented in topic format.

Deja vu: Roughly one year ago to the day the boys played at the pub in similar circumstances. Footy finals were on, a big crowd was expected... and almost nobody turned up. And then, just as last year, it seemed that the low numbers didn't make a jot of difference as the crowd that did rock up partied in overdrive and made it all worthwhile.

Age over beauty: While the "spring chickens" might have stolen the show with their fancy 21st century dance moves... it was the "old chooks" who ended up going the distance. Kids these days have got no staying power!

Rent-a-crowd: Three out of five... that's the number of band members whose partners rocked up to support the band which begs the question: why aren't the other two pulling their weight, cracking the whip and getting their wives to rock up? Not good enough...

Volume control: Several punters remarked that the boys sounded tons better than they did at their last gig at the pub... ok, it was really just one person and they were pretty drunk but the point remains! One reason could well be that Flinty slacked off behind the kit and didn't hit them anywhere near as hard as usual. It's all maths really: Quiet drums = Quiet guitars = No bleeding ear drums.

Ladies and gentlemen... Johnny Cash: It was always going to be ugly... as soon as someone started pestering the boys to play some Johnny Cash. At least they weren't asking for the Spice Girls. Ten beers later and the band jammed together a few chords, made up some words, and belted out "Burning Ring of Fire." Ouch!

Guest appearances: It was completely unexpected and highly controversial... but the person touted as replacing Brunt as the main-man of the band rocked up to the gig. Cheek of all cheek, he even asked to play a song. It was sly work and not a few people noticed that Gunda was getting a little hot under the collar as Brendan belted out the riffs to "Sweet Home Alabalma". Brendan better watch his ribs when Brunt’s around from now on...

Ratings war: According to Brunt, Dupes was on a respectable 12/20 until the end of the night when his score plummeted to a shocking (but still better than three and a half) 8/20. Unbeknownst to Dupray, the bass guitar mysteriously went onto standby halfway through the last song for the evening. In the words of big Gunda himself, "When you can start picking the little things like whether your bass is off, or on, you'll get those four points back." Dupes almost stormed home in disgust until he realised how frikkin' cold it was outside and the decision became final when he saw the size of the bowl of deep fried gear that Dougie brought out for the lads to show his appreciation. We love you Dougie!

Croaked it: Possibly the biggest question hanging over the band's collective head was: "how's Rick's voice going to hold up after two gigs in just a few days?" As it turned out the answer was: "not great". It could've been microphone feedback, but I could've sworn Ricks voice went squeaky in a few songs. By the end of the night he was knackered. To quote the man directly (and to do this, you need to imagine the voice that they use in the zombie movies for the dead guy who tells people over the telephone that they are about to be brutally murdered... that is: really whispery, husky, three-cartons-of-smokes-a-day style)
Rick: "It doesn't hurt. I just can't talk. It's alright when I sing... see?" (cue the rendition of seagull being strangled).
Dupes: "Is anyone gonna eat that last chicken nugget?"

30/8/08 - Kyancutitout

The third and final gig in this epic adventure... and boy... if those blokes thought it was hard playing three gigs in two weeks, try writing about them! Maybe if I was getting paid this might come a bit easier...

After the Warramboo gig being such a success a few weeks back there was a certain amount of expectation surrounding the finals gig at the footy club. It was not to be. Flinty should've figured it out based on the method he used to find his way to the oval: he simply went in the opposite direction to all the other cars! The people numbers were low, to quote Brunt directly "We're gonna earn out dollars tonight, fellas."

During the first set or two it is no exaggeration to say that there were more kids under the age of five dancing to the band than adults. As the night progressed this changed, but not because more adults rocked up... it was just that the kids all went to bed! The band consoled themselves by making sure they got good use of the "free beers for tunes" deal that often accompanies such shows. Flinty loosened up a bit (nothing to do with the fact that Catherine was away, I'm sure...) and was seen shooting a few shooters like a mad, bad rooter. All that booze had to go somewhere and there was another first for the band that night... unscheduled piss-breaks. Flinty obviously couldn't take his booze because half-way through a set he started getting fidgety... then at about the three-quarter mark he started complaining. The real emergency of the situation was only realised at the point when he began to play Foxtrot Unicorn at one-and-a-half speed (the tempo changed part way through the song, I might add) to hurry up the inevitable. It was an eye opener for the boys and no accident that Flinty's beers went missing from then on.

The real highlight of the night would have to be the after party. A certain, bacon-loving character whom shall be known as Hippo for the purposes of this publication was kind enough to offer his house, food and beer for the band's entertainment after the gig. Exactly how this offer was made is not sure, but it may have gone something like this:

Brunt: Hey Hippo... can we eat some of that ham? And bread and cheese of course. Oh, and Rick's found the mustard. Hey, can we eat some of these pizza scroll things? They look awesome... Flinty reckons he'll chuck some on a tray and bang 'em in the oven. Is that alright? We'll just grab a few beers from the shed too, ok? Hippo?
Hippo: *snores*
Brunt: Tell ya what... if it's not ok to eat and drink anything we lay our eyes on, say something about it now, alright?
Hippo: *snores*
Brunt: No worries boys. He says to make ourselves feel at home!

That's about it... phew, never doing it this way again! Be good to your mother. Oh, and a hot tip for the band... Next time you rock up at Hippo's you should try the beef. I heard he breeds champions out there!

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Attempted coup thwarted by years of self-medication...

The rock-and-roll community was shocked to the core by a recent attempt to oust established guitarist and all-round nice guy, Brunt “look how fast my fingers can move” Wedding. MLH’s “go-to-man for a mad solo” was brutally wounded within an inch of his life in a callous and cowardly attack that occurred during a recent footy game. The actual sequence of events will never be exactly known however one reliable source was quoted saying “that guy on the stretcher there was running backwards to take a mark and then some skinny guy charged straight at him and kneed him square in the back! And he was on the same team!”

Emotions were heated to boiling-point when it emerged that the owner of the knee was none other than Shaine “Three out of twenty” Dupree. This stunning twist to the politics of MLH had apparently been brewing like a rancid fart ever since the inaugural vote “Kick Dupes out of the band for missing practice” several months ago. Brunt was never formally identified as the member who suggested the vote but for some reason he was always the prime-suspect in Shaine’s opinion. It turns out that, ever since the momentous 2-2 split vote, Dupes had always planned to replace the dissenting members with hand picked musicians more favourable to his style of play.

Just who Dupes had lined up to replace Brunt remains a mystery. Some commentators point to the fact that Dupes bought his son a guitar around the time of the vote as evidence that the replacement may come from close to home. Regardless, there is no secret as to the replacement for “always late to practice, always pickin’ on Dupes” drummer Flinty. When questioned regarding the recent incident, Flinty’s response was “Why do you reckon I don’t play footy? With Dupes out there, it’s like you’re playing 17 vs 19! And with me on the field, that 17 turns into a 16.5.”

Of course, being a drummer, there were several pauses in amongst the quote that have been edited to save space.

Beer was the key to his survival.

The replacement for Brunt remains a secret for now because the attack on his life was unsuccessful. In fact, the attack was so unsuccessful that Brunt will be fronting up with the rest of the boys for their Variety Club Bash gig ten days after being hospitalised. The doctors were amazed at his ability to absorb punishment (and knees).

“It appears that the knee was blocked here… and here… by an unusually dense layer of lipids stored inside clusters of cells” the Streaky Bay doctor was quoted as saying while referring to Brunt’s X-ray, “the unusual thing about these cell clusters is that they normally appear around the stomach region in men and are generally referred to as a ‘beer gut’. It would appear that our patient has developed a ‘beer gut’ that neatly encapsulates his entire body and it was this layer which cushioned the impact of the knee. In fact, I will go out on a limb here and claim that this man could skinny dip naked in Antarctica due to the extra insulation with hardly any ill effects, besides a little shrinkage, of course!”

In other band-related news…

Flinty had the sniffles this week and considered pulling out of the V.C. Bash gig. Then he found out that Brunt had three cracked ribs, a bruised kidney and was pissing blood and yet he still rocked up to band practice so Flinty decided to harden the f$%k up.

Good on ya, Flinty.

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The night we saw the Phantom

This post has been sitting on the backburner for several weeks now... the editor thought it would be prudent to let the fireworks subside before announcing to the world the events that occurred one dark and stormy night.

It was on this night the band finally and incontrovertibly saw The Phantom Bass Player.

The discussion of the events leading up to the horrific vision as well as the aftershocks caused by this revelation will be presented as a series of separate quotes and conversations that occurred.

THE NIGHT WE SAW THE PHANTOM

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Dupes: Gig this weekend boys... and we've got a heap of songs to get through. So we all need to be on our best behaviour.

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Brunt: What the hell are you drinkin' there Dupes?
Dupes: Vodka and orange.
Brunt: What, beer doesn't do it for ya anymore?
Dupes: Nah, I've got a cold... I need the Vitamin C

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Dal: Stop! That's it! No more... This song's a scratcher (Mr Jones). I can't play it anymore... we're butchering it.
Rick: What's the issue with it... we've never had a problem with it, have we?
Dal: This is my Cat Stevens, Dupes... if we can't do it properly there's no point looking at it anymore.
Dupes: Righto... I'll put my back into it this time, eh?

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Flinty: Frikkin' hell Dupes... if you put anymore back into that song you would've been dry-humping the microphone.
Dal: Yeah, that was a bit better... a lot better. OK, it's back on the list.

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Dupes: Flinty, if you ever wear my hat again I will take your head off with it.
Flinty: Shit Dupes... it doesn't fit anyway! Your head is tiny!
Dupes: I'd hit you... but I don't know which one of you is the real one.
Flinty: Eh?

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Dupes: I'm going for a piss.

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Flinty: Yeah, that one sounded alright. We should try and do that at Yaninee. Hey, where's Dupes? That's one massive piss he's taking!
Brunt: Might be having a smoke...
Flinty: Well, it must be one fat stogie of a cigar if that's the case... he's been ages.

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Rick: Um... Dupes isn't out there... and his utes gone.
Band: What?!?!?

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Rick: Hmmm... he's not answering his mobile.
Dal: Maybe he went to get something.
Brunt: He left a full cup of vodka here... (sniffs)... jeez that's some strong gear!

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SMS: “What the hell do you do at band practice?! Shaine did the piss house trick and can barely walk! I wouldn’t wait for him, sorry. Alicia” (photo attached... see photo section)
Brunt: Well I'll be buggered... that's taking it to a new level.

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EMAIL: To my patient brethren,

My humblest apologies for what can only be described as a pathetic performance at practise last night. I here by vow and declare that any such performance from this day forth shall only be attempted after partaking in what most people describe as a meal. I like the idea of being able to sit about and say "I had the corn fed, aged 30 days waigu beef and it was the most delightful, tenderest cut of meat I have ever tasted, simply splendid". This is going to be the new bass player. A well fed slightly soberer version of the last bastard.

Again my apologies.

Long live the food.

Eating is not cheating.

Vodka is not the answer.

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Flinty: Crikey Dupes... you were on fire at Yaninee tonight... that was just about the tightest I've heard you play. Good job.
Dupes: Cheers Flinty. Hey Brunt, how would you rate my performance?
Brunt: Oh, about three and a half.
Dupes: Three and a half out of ten?!?!?!
Brunt: Out of twenty.
Dupes: You prick!
Brunt: Jeez Dupes, don't ask for a score if you can't take the feedback.

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Dupes: I can't deny my carnal passions... fartin' and drinkin'.
Rick: What about rootin'?
Dupes: Nah, that's more of a hobby.
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Reconciliation

Well... everyone kissed and made up in the end. Rick got voted back in the band because it turned out he had the power of veto in all voting matters as well as the power to retrospectively vote on issues. To mark the occasion the band re-released two tracks, "Joker" and "Tush" with the original singer reinstated. The old versions of the tracks have been locked in the vault and will, no doubt, be unearthed at Dupes' 60th birthday (or maybe just every now and then, when he gets uppity, to put him back in his place). Some new songs are in the pipelines for the upcoming Yaninee gig and are coming along nicely. The band is still debating whether to include the controversial "Karaoke option" in the night's festivities. Check this space to find out what they decided.

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SHOCK NEWS – Rick booted out of MLH

Fans and enemies alike were stunned after a recent announcement that long time front-man Rick “green is the new black” Dew-Bwah had exited the band in controversial circumstances. In comparable fashion to the late Julius Caesar, Rick was stuck with a hundred dagger sticks (all below the belt and behind the back… nasty!) as he was unceremoniously dumped from the line-up.

The unprecedented decision was made during a recent practise session held at Wudinna FC. Rick had already left the band high and dry, opting instead to fly first class to Darwin with plans to then fly onto China in the super special extra class section (which is literally a golden chair laden with caviar and cocktails right next to the Captain’s seat). In Rick’s absence the remaining band members cast votes according to the traditional ballot of “Should we, or should we not, expel (insert absent band member’s name) from the band due to the fact that they are not here to defend themselves?”

Past votes on other members had always been tight affairs with the poll results generally ending up tied at 2-2. Tradition demands that the deciding vote should then default to the absent member who has always, to this point, voted themselves to stay in the band. This is a perfect example of why democracy is such a joke because nothing ever gets done and nobody besides the minority parties ever get what they want.

The most recent poll, though, proved that when democracy gets its boots on it can run a mile. The deciding vote was never called upon as the deciding vote is not required when the decision is unanimous! Band members were interviewed following the landmark resolution in order to shed light on their reasons for casting their votes against Rick. In order to avoid the possibility of Rick filing a lawsuit against individual members the following comments were made anonymously.

“Why did I vote against him? Did you see the hat he was wearing at the Warramboo gig? There’s only room for one pimp hat in the band, and that’s my pimp hat! I wouldn’t be surprised if he organised the whole thing, when mine went missing down at Lincoln. It was a coup.”

“Nah, it’s nothing personal. He just can’t sing. I’m confident that I can cover for him by myself. One less member means more money for me which means more beers! Plus, even if we have to cut a few songs from the line-up, that’ll just mean I can get to the pub sooner after practise.”

“He needs to lose a whole heap of weight if he wants to fit into our band image. Do you really reckon the audience wants a big cuddly looking teddy bear up front crooning to them all night? No. They want that “waify, ex-junkie, street bum” look that I’ve perfected. Rick’s been in the good paddock too long. So he’s out. And don’t worry… Brunt’s in my sights too… but he’s alright coz he can play the guitar a bit. But he probably needs to hit the ice a bit to get an edgier look about him. Dal needs to shape up a bit too. Let his stubble grow out, grow his hair long and maybe smoke a few darts on stage… it worked for Slash!”

“Rick? I thought we were voting Dupes out! Oh well… since everyone else has said their bit… yeah it’s fair enough. I’ve asked him a thousand times to learn the words to those songs we play but did he listen? No, he didn’t. I mean, crikey, do I look down at a piece of paper when I’m busting out a fat lead on La Grange? Of course not. I take my music seriously and if any band member doesn’t live up to that, well, they’re out. Simple as that.”

In response to the vote, Rick was contacted and made the following statement “Tell those lame f$@ks they can shove their f$@king band, I’m going to China. F$@kers. And you can quote me on that.”

It’s official. Rick is out of the band. In order to demonstrate a united front the remaining band members have recorded and released two new tracks available free to the first 100 listeners. And if you believed any of this then you should probably stop accessing the internet because I hear there is a rich Nigerian drug-lord who is trying to escape the despotic Nigerian military regime and wants to give you a hell of a lot of money if you would only send the afore-mentioned crack-baron your bank details along with a blank cheque you have signed to assist in the transfer of all that money into your bank account. And you wouldn’t want that, would you?

Be not-ungood to your Mother.

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