There once were four young men who had everything going for them. Good-looking, intelligent, talented, with solid upbringings, life was seemingly laid out at their feet.
One of them was especially gifted. A likeable fellow, though never particularly popular at school, he displayed early in his life a remarkable gift of being able to understand the language of music. Though he never realised it then, this gift would be a blessing and a curse upon his entire journey through life. They all followed their respective paths, deviating sometimes off the main road, but never too far, always keeping the rest of the crowd in sight.
Until one day they all decided, with the kind of disregard for consequence that only the young and the stupid possess, to veer away from the torchlights of the crowded main path and immerse themselves in the dark world of notes, rhythms and emotions running freely through the ether. To give up the normal race; to abandon trying to compete with normal people. "Why work like everyone else when I can live like a king simply playing music?" They thought. Just like every other fool running around in the dark thought before them.
Without the safety of the crowd they had little chance of wearing the inevitable storms that ravage developing young men. The one to whom music had always spoken, who had always found more pleasure in his own thoughts that in the musings of others, found the darkness particularly difficult. When a man decides that the deep space of music is to be his sole comfort; his refuge, what chance has he of dealing properly with the emotional vagaries of personal life? When, in that darkness, he latches on to the love of his life only to see it fade away, what answer can his own mind give? What battles must surely rage within such a mind? What is this? What is life? What is love? Why do I feel so good? Why do I feel so sad? Without a solid job, a group of friends - not fans, and without a steady path how does one survive?
The answer:
He gets tough. He makes a shell. He hardens up. He drinks. He smokes. He is promiscuous. He screams, joyfully, manically. And in the downtime the inspiration flows. And from that sometimes supernova, sometimes hard stone emerge expressions of what it is to be human. Expressions of what it is to live on the edge, and what it is to exprience nothingness. The deep, dark world, away from the safety of the crowd.
The music, of course is what this is all about. But now you know a story connecting the songs, the frenetic stage-show, the passion, and the lack of morals. Rock'n'Roll has always had a dark side. Not intentional: not some sort of cheesy, pretentious, devil-horned wank. Just a darkness behind the bright lights. To create the magic, one must live it. And Roger X is a universe all in itself. Not least of all for those four who create and actually live the very songs they sing.
"Roger Explosion were amaazing. Dancing around like the good old days of glam rock. These four guys know how to get a place pumping, even though Candy's is not quite where I would expect them to normally play. With an astonishing amount of finesse and crazyness they showed Sydney once again that Australian rock is long from dead" - LAST.FM"From Sydney, Australia comes Roger Explosion and their hard hitting brand of Aussie-flavored rock and roll. This is the real shit... these four maniacs thrash and crash their way through some incredibly powerful rock and roll." - ROCKANDROLLREPORT.COM"It's been a good 20 years since the likes of Van Halen, Aerosmith and Def Leppard were actually awesome... No one told Roger Explosion, or they just chose to ignore it, but like ripples from the past, they picked up their hair spray and battle axes and played.. the rock gods smiled and blessed them with 12 fingers to shred. Let there be glam rock..." - SANDWICHCLUB.FMWANT AN EP???.
The "Modern Day Superheroes" EP is available at:
RED EYE RECORDS (66 King St Sydney CBD)
SPIT RECORDS (Spit Junction Mosman)
Copies for sale for a discount at our gigs