Tis that time of year again, The West Bubblefuck Both Kinds Of Music Festival. When every square of green (though it is usually brown) in town is taken up with a tent, and every awning of the main street has a wailing busker turned up almost-illegally loud. Tales of wives leaving, trucks breaking down, and how happy sheeee iiiiiis tooooo fiiiiiiiind hiiiiiiim, sung to twanging guitar.
But it is not all the sounds of a cat being put through a band saw. Festival time for some (including Sparky and his pals) is The Best Time Of Year. On the first Friday of each January, the AGM is held, and the Official Agenda (wow, lots of Capitalisation in this post??!?) is drawn up. This year, it has been Officially Printed on the Official Stubbie Coolers. And it is filled with some true gems (including the Red One, coming in on Friday). A variety of styles is sought. Some new artists, vying for the esteemed title of the Festival Find. And there are some Compulsory Shows to attend - Festival Faves.
Wednesday night was my first experience of the very special show - The Pigs. These boys have the THICKEST dodgy southern US accents you've ever heard. They have a repetoir of original tunes such as "Don't dump your lover on the phone" with its brilliant opening lyrics of "I am standing in the shadow of a 40 foot merino, while you were over there sipping on your cappucino", as well as some fantastic countryfied covers - turns out there are a number of genres that work in a country fashion, especially disco ("ABC" for example, and "Staying Alive") and R&B (specifically "Ignition" - it is the references to "sipping on coke & rum" that really ease it perfectly into the West Bubblefuck scene).
These guys are bags of fun, with a brilliantly energetic show. It is near impossible not to dance - Sparky cut the rug in a spectacular fashion! With guest bandmembers, OOPS! I mean cousins - Montz Matzumoto (a banjo player of the highest order) and Mark Oats (of the legendary folk band, The Bushwackers). The Committee (as I like to call those friends that take The Festival seriously) tried to hide the real identities of the cousins from me - Stretch, T-Bone & Billy-Bob aren't really thier names! They thought it really disappointing that Billy-Bob is really named Glen, and really comes from Dubbo. But I think they underestimate my ability to suspend my disbelief for the moment of performative magic.
The recordings I have heard have not nearly done these boys justice. The live show is just what country music should be - a little bit wrong, a lot of dancing, and not many people taking themselves too seriously.
But it is not all the sounds of a cat being put through a band saw. Festival time for some (including Sparky and his pals) is The Best Time Of Year. On the first Friday of each January, the AGM is held, and the Official Agenda (wow, lots of Capitalisation in this post??!?) is drawn up. This year, it has been Officially Printed on the Official Stubbie Coolers. And it is filled with some true gems (including the Red One, coming in on Friday). A variety of styles is sought. Some new artists, vying for the esteemed title of the Festival Find. And there are some Compulsory Shows to attend - Festival Faves.
Wednesday night was my first experience of the very special show - The Pigs. These boys have the THICKEST dodgy southern US accents you've ever heard. They have a repetoir of original tunes such as "Don't dump your lover on the phone" with its brilliant opening lyrics of "I am standing in the shadow of a 40 foot merino, while you were over there sipping on your cappucino", as well as some fantastic countryfied covers - turns out there are a number of genres that work in a country fashion, especially disco ("ABC" for example, and "Staying Alive") and R&B (specifically "Ignition" - it is the references to "sipping on coke & rum" that really ease it perfectly into the West Bubblefuck scene).
These guys are bags of fun, with a brilliantly energetic show. It is near impossible not to dance - Sparky cut the rug in a spectacular fashion! With guest bandmembers, OOPS! I mean cousins - Montz Matzumoto (a banjo player of the highest order) and Mark Oats (of the legendary folk band, The Bushwackers). The Committee (as I like to call those friends that take The Festival seriously) tried to hide the real identities of the cousins from me - Stretch, T-Bone & Billy-Bob aren't really thier names! They thought it really disappointing that Billy-Bob is really named Glen, and really comes from Dubbo. But I think they underestimate my ability to suspend my disbelief for the moment of performative magic.
The recordings I have heard have not nearly done these boys justice. The live show is just what country music should be - a little bit wrong, a lot of dancing, and not many people taking themselves too seriously.
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