Our next gig is at Bar Open, 15 May 2008, 8PM as the feature band for Liner Notes Vol 4
What is the Liner Notes Series?
It’s a night of poetry and music where a classic album is chosen, some of melbourne's top poets and spoken word performers are assigned to each track on the album and a band accompanies them with wacky costumes and interpretations from the chosen album.
This time the chosen album is The Cure’s "Head On The Door" featuring the songs In Between Days and Close To Me. Doors open 8PM. Feel free to dress up, dance and cavort. We'll do a set first at 8pm then the poetry will begin at 9.
Poets featured are: alicia sometimes , Emilie Zoey Baker , Sean M Whelan , Ben Pobjie , Dan Lee, Montrice Shumpert, Marc Testart , Klare Lanson , Mandy Beaumont and Chloe Jackson Willmott.
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The Heavy Cases are a new Art-folk/Rock/Plonk band consisting of four people who have managed to tear themselves away from the great sucking orb of delight to practice a few well choreographed jerky movements which somehow results in harmonised sound waves that subdue beasts and excite librarians.
It all started with Quinn, the lyricist, cutting his teeth on TV jingles. He wrote for such companies as the now household name: "Shady Plot Funeral Services" for whom he wrote the jingle, "Come die with us for heaven's sake/We'll make your corpse the life of the wake..."
In his spare time he wrote a bunch of songs which he would sing to old folks in various retirement homes. It was on one of these occasions that a nice old dear, who used to talk to an imaginary 7 foot tall refrigerator named Frigidaire, urged Quinn to get his own band going. She was certain that he could be as big as Johnny Ashcroft. "Maybe even taller if you eat all your tripe!" she had said.
So it was decided and Quinn set about recording some demo songs with the help of his very close friends the Duke Lunch Hearlforth (bass) and Donnie Lachuga (drums) in his bedroom.
A little later, through the shear good luck of her being the best friend of Quinn's main squeeze, Seri Vida joined the band on Vocals.
So now they were ready for the big time, amps buzzing and fingers hovering over their instruments. But fate stepped in and suddenly (yet strangely following an out of court settlement over some shady real-estate deals) the Duke's visa was revoked and he was deported back to England, while Donnie Lachuga received an offer to work in the Mexican porn industry, which he took up without the slightest hesitation.
So Quinn set about advertising for replacements. But advertising was useless. It wasn't until a nasty ski-lift mishap that Quinn's prayers were answered. This is when he met Adrian Knowles. Like a monkey Adrian had climbed out of the carriage and up onto the roof to see if he could fix the stalled ski-lift. He ended up replacing a small broken cog pin by fashioning one out of an uncoiled key ring. Quinn thanked him and asked if he played any instruments. As it turns out Adrian plays almost everything and can disassemble and reassemble them as well.
Next Quinn needed a drummer. He had heard that if you really really want something and you go outside and scream it into the open sky, the thing you want arrives. So he did. He went outside and screamed over and over, "I need drum go boom boom." Several minutes later he was still screaming when a shoe hit him in the side of the head. He bent down, picked it up and turned to see who had thrown it. This is how he met Rob, who was trying to concentrate on an essay that was due the next day. After much questioning and negotiating it was decided that Rob was a genius and that he really needed to pack in another activity into his already overly-crammed schedule by joining The Heavy Cases.
And so it goes.
A little more about the songwriter Quinn: By the turn of century Quinn had established himself within the formidable social malaise called 'the future' as an outspoken opponent of the 'underpants on the outside' movement. He resides in New Melbourne with his android and his seventeen appliances where he writes and feeds his hologram tree with his hard earned Second LifeTM water credits.
In 2006 he was quoted as saying, during an on-stage hissy-fit to an disinterested and rowdy crowd: "Which one of your gods do I have to blow to get a little poignant silence?"
Some people might think that Quinn enjoys speaking about himself in the third person as if he were a cultural icon, however he does not. It makes him feel uneasy and causes him to drool uncontrollably and bark like a Siberian Barking Sparrow. I have had the misfortune to witnessed this. That is why he has asked me, Duke Lunch Hearlforth, to write this for him.
Quinn and I met one evening while we were both strolling pensively along the dark waters of the Thames. I was smoking a small plantation of Chinese tobacco and pondering the delicate maneuvers involved in persuading a beautiful woman I'd just met at the scene of a recent train crash to climb onto the smoking wreckage and do unspeakable things to me; Quinn was slowly walking towards me in the other direction carrying either side of him two large, beaten up old suitcases. From my line of sight it appeared that his arms had stretched twice the normal length of a human arm so that the bottom of each case seemed to drag along the ground. We were both so deep in our own thoughts that we nearly collided head on and went crashing into the slimy filth of England's most famous trickle.
After several muffled apologies and brushings down of each other's coats I dared to inquire as to state of his sanity seeing as he was out here in the dreary solitude of London's back-end hauling two heavy looking suitcases.
"If you were me you'd be walking in the dark carrying two suitcases," he said.
I nodded thoughtfully and asked him where he was headed.
"I'm going to Ireland to see a man about a talking fish," he said.
I could see by the calm and steady certainty in his eyes that he was not joking, nor was he at all concerned with how crazy he sounded. It was because of his obvious conviction that I took an instant liking to him and invited him to join me in a cognac where perhaps he would do me the honour of expanding upon his answer in gratuitous detail. He looked past me for a moment, perhaps trying to gauge the extent of his journey ahead, then looked at me and smiled.
"I accept," he said.
