Let there be Bon

G'day Rolls,

I was kicking back the other day, mapping out the Shadows Cast stage routine in my head (well, what the Shadows Cast stage routine will be once I've left the bedroom and found the necessary band members), and I soon realised that what I needed was a gimmick. A rock 'n' roll gimmick. Not a tacky gimmick. A straight-up, legit, I'll smack you in the chops if you laugh at me gimmick. AC/DC.

You see, there aren't too many grown men, let alone rock 'n' rollers, who could squeeze into a pair of duds that their mum bought them when they were 12. And if you think I'm talking about Angus's school uniform, guess again. What I'm talking about are the super skinny, waist-high, ball chokers Bon is stiff-legging around the stage in here in this frickin awesome live rendition of Sin City. Hats off to you, Bon. If there's one serving of meat and potatoes I don't mind poking me in the eye, it's yours, old son.

Circulation is overrated anyway.

Nothing to worry about

G'day Rolls,

I was cruising the Tube again and stumbled upon this little gem. It's Clutch, it's rockin' and it's off their latest record, From Beale Street to Oblivion. Get your grubbies on it. If you don't, Neil Fallon will come after you with those crazy eyes and glare at you until you do. They say even Chuck Norris bought the record just to avoid a stare-off. That's respect. 

Oh yeah, one more thing, keep an eye out for the dude eating the harmonica. He is rock.

The track is called 'Electric Worry'. Smash it up.

A little cola?

G'day Rolls,

I dug up this little rip-snorter, filmed at our very own Big Day Out. Actually, I think this was the year I drunkenly whizzed on the back of some dude's legs in the main arena. Good thing he was wearing footy socks.

Anyway, Josh Homme deserves his own dashboard figurine, suction capped up there next to Jesus and The King. Yeah!

Rockin' Rolls

Good bloke, my mate, Rolls. Biggest music fan I know, and really the inspiration for this blog. You see, one day, Rolls and I were strong-arming a couple of ambers, shooting the breeze (quite literally, I recall, as he'd just farted) when I had a revelation. I needed another beer and Rolls, a lemonade shandy. As I returned from the bar, shandies in hand (I wanted to see what all the fuss was about...no, really), I had another revelation. Rolls was going to get a blog dedicated to his love of tunes. Look, I know there are a squillion trillion blogs about music, but riddle me this, are any of them dedicated to my mate, Rolls? No. None. Until now.

So, Rolls, old son, here she is. She's not looking too flash at the minute, but give it time. This will be a space of big riffs, poor punctuation and less than funny humour. Couldn't ask for much more really.