THE CLASH - "STAY FREE" [IN STUDIO] . . . . A GORGEOUS AND COMPELLING TUNE FROM THE COOLEST BAND EVER TO WALK ON STAGE . . . . THEY WERE AT THE EPICENTRE OF THE PUNK MOVEMENT YET QUITE SEPARATE FROM IT AT THE SAME TIME . . . . ENCOMPASSING SO MANY DIVERGENT STYLES AND INFLUENCES, TEE NUMERO UNO WITHOUT A DOUBT . . . . IF I COULD HAVE ONLY ONE ALBUM FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE . . . . "LONDON CALLING" WOULD BE IT.

FILE THIS UNDER EITHER OF THE FOLLOWING TWO CATEGORIES . . . . "HOW TO BE A MAN AND GET IN TOUCH WITH YOUR SOFTER SIDE" OR "IT'S ALRIGHT TO LIKE 'NICE', CALMING TUNES, IT DOESN'T IMPINGE ON YOUR MASCULINITY AND WON'T TURN YOU GAY" . . . . FREE YOUR MIND AND THE REST WILL FOLLOW

MY DAD . . . . WAS AN OLD SCHOOL SEADOG IN THE ROYAL AUSTRALIAN NAVY . . . . HE JOINED UP IN 1939 AS AN ORDINARY SEAMAN AND WORKED UP THE HARD WAY TO COMMANDER, RETIRING IN 1976 . . . . HE COULD DO EVERYTHING HIMSELF, MAKE FINE FURNITURE, INSANE CALLIGRAPHY, FIX OLD CLOCKS, REBUILD ENGINES, DESIGN HOUSES, INCLUDING THE ONE I LIVE IN, FREAKSHOW MATHS, A MASTER OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE . . . . A TRUE SELF MADE MAN.

His life of seriously hard yakka afforded me the 'ability' to do what many accidentally ungrateful kids do and choose to be a lazy little fucker early on in life, if it involved hard work, I wasn't interested, if it required dedication, it was too hard, if perseverance was part of the equation I didn't have the 'gumption' as he would call it . . . . no wonder he was always on my case, "you're as good as ten men short !!" he'd yell at me while I was drifting off into dreamland while holding a spanner or a piece of wood, or "if I've told you once, I've told you a thousand bloody times !!" if my shoddy, half-arsed attempt at doing something ended in a shoddy, half-arsed result . . . . like a lot of blokes from working class backgrounds growing up in the Depression, fucking about wasn't anything they could tolerate, his old man had dropped him off at school one morning in the early thirties and just fucking split, never seen again, leaving dad and his two brothers to look after his mum and gran . . . . what a cunt !!! The thing I regret so much now is not paying attention, always thinking of how soon I could 'escape' Stalag Williams and piss off and ride my bike or go and skate with my friends, make my military models, anything other than having to "apply myself to the job at hand", one seriously lazy little bastard for sure . . . . I knew it too, but it didn't make no nevermind.

Anyways . . . . dad was pretty much the all-round genius, drawing, painting, whatever, and it was always brilliant, it was pretty damned intimidating for an only child of the male persuasion, my sister, who I never knew, was killed in a car wreck four years before my year of manufacture, lucky for me, my mum survived, dad was at sea. I knew by age seven that I wanted nothing to do with discipline, uniforms, application, dedication, any of it, maths, science, engines, all the shit I grew to love required hard work and concentration, fuck that . . . . how I wish all the things he said had actually stuck in my tiny, self absorbed mind, I might be able to do so much more with all the things I love than I can now, but, you live and you learn, sometimes though it's all too late.

When the President of the good ole U.S of A, Lyndon Baines Johnson, visited Australia in 1966, my father, who by this stage had become the Fleet Communicator and heavily involved in ultra secret spying shit at the very pointy end of Naval Intelligence and Communications, was given the task of organising and co-ordinating all of LBJ's links back to the U.S via satellite and land line hook-ups for his entire trip . . . . Vietnam was becoming enormous and our Prime Minister had made his arse sucking 'all the way with LBJ' speech, so that's how the country rolled, even after Harold Holt went missing having a dip in the ocean . . . . 

I guess the old man musta done his usual brilliant job with it all because at the end of his southern sojourn to the land of Oz, the man who succeeded JFK personally presented my dad with this Zippo engraved with his signature and the Presidential Seal, along with a bottle of Johnnie Blue [dad gave it to his best friend because he hardly ever drank] before he got on board his seven ought seven and flew back to plan sending more young men to their deaths . . . . he probably had hundreds of em he used to flick to anyone who did the man from Texas a favour . . . . but this one he gave to my father. 

I used to use it after I lost my old 'Camel' brass model until I thought one night when smash drunk after a dinner, "what if I lose this one ?", when I got home I put it up on my bookshelf and that's where it's been for the last three years . . . . funny really, because of all dad's stuff he left behind when he died in 1995, his officers cap, his 'Wilkinson' ceremonial sword, his medals, the signed parchment from Queen Liz bestowing upon him the last Miltary O.B.E awarded to an Aussie serviceman, all his tools . . . . it's the lighter that I cherish the most, he never used it because he smoked a pipe mostly and Zippos suck at lighting pipes, but I can hold it whenever I feel like it and that feels really good, it reminds me of the wonderful father he was to me and also the lazy, stupid kid I was and how I should've listened a bit more when I had the chance.

"SOUNDWAVE 2013 - THE POST GIG ANALYSIS" . . . . FOR SOMEONE WHO SPENT MORE THAN TWENTY YEARS PLAYING LIVE MUSIC PROFESSIONALLY IT WAS A BLOODY INCREDIBLE EXPERIENCE . . . . I'VE DELIBERATELY AVOIDED FESTIVALS FOR THE LAST FIFTEEN YEARS, GETTING FUCKED UP DURING THE DAY AND SWEATING AND JOSTLING IN HUGE CROWDS HAD LOST ITS APPEAL . . . . THIS WAS A DIFFERENT "FIRST" . . . . I WAS TOTALLY SOBER FOR A START

In case you've never picked up on it, I've never been a huge fan of heavy metal, sure, I like it and have a soft spot for Metallica, Slayer, Anthrax, Pantera et al and even back to the punk inspired NWOBHM with the likes of Iron Maiden and friends, not to mention even further back to the granddaddies, the likes of Purple, Sabbath and Zep, in fact the only HM act I'd ever seen was when my first band supported Twisted Sister and they don't even count, sorry . . . . so, to get the opportunity to witness Metallica, Anthrax and Slayer in the one day was pretty fucking exciting to be fully honest, Red Fang, The Vandals, The Gallows and the mighty Cypress Hill also made the anticipation climb into redline zone . . . . rock and fucking roll!!!!

We got away from home late so tragically we missed not only Red Fang but Anthrax as well, no matter, plenty more time and stuff to check out. Clearly, God loves live music because after a week of pissing rain and overcast skies it was a stinking hot, sweltering Bris Vegas day as 50,000 punters swarmed into the showgrounds, another confession from an aging punk rocker, it was the biggest, most dense mass of inhumanity I've ever been part of, and in the fairly close confines of the venue it was wall to wall youman beans . . . . seeing as we missed the Fangers and the Germ Warfare Specialists, next on my hitlist of 'must see' musical mayhem was me dear friend Timmy's pick, The Gallows, inside the only proper indoor stage they were fucking full-on from the first note, given I have no real history with this outfit I was totally impressed with their take no prisoners blend of punk/metal full frontal attack, would love to have seen them with the original red headed frontman though, the punk edge has been left behind a tad from what I've seen and listened to on PooTube . . . . but being a bloodnut, I would say that though.

I gotta say that the real highlight of my entire day was the one band I have often been guilty of taking the piss out of, not hating on them, just putting shit on my mates who have been into em since "Show No Mercy" days, maybe because I'm not a skinny type has always been against me as well . . . . yes indeedly, it was the mighty Slayer, what a fucking show it was, daytime slots can be a pain in the arse for many reasons, different feel, the band don't rise to the all exposing reality of broad daylight gigs and not headlining, lighting shows become redundant, and for an act who rely on dazzling visuals it can be a killer . . . . not with these veterans from Cali, Hanneman, Araya, King and Lombardo took the gig and the crowd by the balls as soon as they walked on stage, they then proceeded to demolish a set that frankly had me kicking myself in the fucking head for never having actually bought any of their catalogue of nitrous propelled, prototypical death/speed/hyper metal before . . . . tight as the nun's proverbial, exceptional playing and with Tom Araya lookin like the smiling Devil himself, his obvious level of stoke was immediately infectious, I became an instant devotee, admittedly, 30 fucking years too late. In one incredible set the crowd was given an object lesson in the power of truly great rock and roll, forget the old barriers of genre, forget the bullshit Satan thing, it means nothing in the end, this was just a rock gig of mothefucking killer dimensions and I'm blown away by its magnitude still . . . . can't wait until they tour again, fuck yeah !! 

Other exceptional performances were, in no particular order . . . . Metallica, wow, what can I say, two and three quarter hours, monster show with all the bells whistles, Hetfield looking like he was actually having a great time, Robert Trujillo dominating on bass, so much menace, delicacy and warmth all at the same time, Hammett, legit modern day guitar god/virtuoso, Lars the beatmaster ruling the roost from behind the kit, fucking wicked show to break my virginity and close out the festival . . . . Cypress Hill, Danko Jones, Blink 182 and The Vandals all oozed class, honesty and a desire to really give their all on a day when the heat alone could have killed lesser bands in the head . . . . even Dragonforce, who Mikeey Rat introduced me to only four weeks ago, were a shitload of awesome, Garbage were wonderful with Miss Shirley Manson doing it up for the girlies present . . . . it was a fucking brilliant day and for me a huge way to get my first real taste of the metal thang, and superb company made it all even more special . . . . consider me won over . . . . GWAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRR !!!!!!

***** Thanks to those whose footage I have stolen . . . . it's rough and ready but as real and as visceral as the bands themselves were, warts and all !!!

"LOW PIPES SCRAPE NICE" + "EVERYTHING NEW IS OLD AGAIN" . . . . TWO YEARS, TWO MONTHS SINCE I ACQUIRED THE MOTORCYCLE MARQUE I HAD SWORN I'D NEVER OWN . . . . 40,000 KLMS, NO UNFORESEEN ROADSIDE DRAMAS, THE PURPLE PENIS HAS PROVEN ONE TRUSTY STEED . . . . I DIDN'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT THE HATERS WHEN I PUT DOWN THE DEPOSIT AND I CARE JUST AS LITTLE NOW . . . . MOST FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTION . . . . "WHAT MODEL IS IT ??"

TAKEN FROM THE "IT IS WHAT IT IS" FILES . . . . LOCATED IN BETWEEN "FUCK YOU VERY MUCH" AND "PATINA COMES OVER TIME AND WITH USE, NOT IN A CAN" . . . .

Haters and piss-takers, you've never worried me, neither face to face nor across the wide, faceless unknown that is the ether of the interwebnet, I knew exactly what I was gonna do to the 'Farty Eight' from the moment I first clapped eyes on one in 2010 just as surely as I was aware of the derision and scorn that would be poured upon me for buying the little fucker in the first place . . . . furthermore, I've never deluded myself with the bullshit fallacy about it magically turning into a 'custom bike', modified is what it is, I've only ever owned and ridden basically stock bikes over the last thirty odd years, four of them Trumpies, that have had a heavy dose of personal modifications inflicted upon them, same shit with cars, and I've always ended up being totally stoked on the end result . . . . I ain't no guru of custom building like so many of the crew out there whose skills and creativity I admire and respect so much, and have never claimed to be such a bloke, I have never chopped anything except food and illicit substances, and I only indulge in one of those anymore . . . . I'm just a guy who's confident [some might even correctly assume 'arrogant' is more appropriate] in his aesthetic sensibilities and abilities, I have a decent eye for things, always have, plain and simple, and just know I can achieve something that I'll totally love because it looks cool and functions properly . . . . but also, what happens as an accidental bi-product is it becomes something others generally dig as well, which is what we all kinda want, if you don't admit to that, you're telling fibs, the Penis Mobile is just another example of my ongoing history of tweeking shit and showing my influences of the last forty plus years.    

Mods inflicted have been, bars, pipes, Power Commander and commensurate re-map [?], Progressive Suspension front and rear, chrome rims and S/S spokes and nipples, BCM airfilter and Willis Bolts, 4.5 gallon tank and my paint design by Von Pato, H.D shift peg, H.D grips, Speed Merchant derby cover, Death Machine non points cover, stripped and polished fork brace and fork legs, ditched belt guards, output shaft pulley cover, L/H mirror, two tons of extraneous factory plastic shit and reflectors . . . . 'consumables' include, three rear tires, two steer tires, two L/H peg rubbers, one derby cover seal, one complete set of swingarm bearings, bushes and spacer, five oil filters, however many litres of oil, two fork oil changes and three sets of plugs . . . . not too shabby for a skirtster that has covered forty thousand kiloflogs in a bee's dick over two years.

Next on the agenda, speaking of customs and chops, is my much anticipated '74 FXE, code named, Project Shoveller . . . . stay tuned, or not.

"SLEEPERS . . . . THE ULTIMATE EXPRESSION OF LESS IS MORE" . . . . SITTING DOWN OVER LUNCH WITH MECUM AUTO AUCTIONS ON THE BOX . . . . UP ONTO THE PLATFORM COMES A VERY PLAIN, SUPER SEDATE, BOG STOCK LOOKIN CHARGER . . . . EXCEPT FOR THE FLUSH FIT GRILL, REAR SCREEN AND THE 'RIBBON' CIRCLING ITS ARSE END . . . . EVERYONE WANTED THE FLASHY VERSION WHEN THIS MODEL WAS BRAND NEW . . . . WALK SOFTLY, CARRY A BIG STICK

THIS SORT OF CAR HAS ALWAYS GIVEN ME THE HORN, UNDERSTATEMENT MADE REAL IN STEEL, NO "HEY, LOOK AT ME, I'M BIG AND BUTCH AND SUPER BAD", MORE LIKE, "HI, HOW YA DOIN, NICE DAY FOR IT", JUST ANOTHER MOPAR LAND BARGE, BIG, BULBOUS AND UNDERPOWERED, BLOW IT INTO THE CURB IN YOUR SS CAMARO OR BIG INCH 'STANG . . . . OR . . . . MAYBE NOT . . . . PLAIN JANE BECOMES PSYCHO GIRL ONCE THE LIGHTS CHANGE, 426ci OF HEMI ELEPHANT GRUNT UNDER THE BONNET, 4 SPEED MANUAL, TRACK PACK OPTION AND ALL THE OTHER KIT TO LEAVE ANYTHING OTHER THAN ANOTHER MOPAR MONSTER CRYING AT THE LINE . . . . LESSON #1, NEVER JUDGE BOOKS BY THEIR COVERS AND #2, LESS CAN BE SO MUCH MORE.

RED FANG - "HANK IS DEAD" . . . . IN ANTICIPATION OF TODAY . . . . THREE BEARDED BLOKES IN A TIGHT SHOWER CUBICLE . . . . IT DOESN'T GET ANY BETTER THAN THAT, NOW DOES IT . . . . ???? HUMOUR, WHAT A FUCKING WONDERFUL THING IT IS DARLING . . . . NOW IT'S TIME FOR BED . . . . NYE-NYE SWEETHEART . . . . XXXXX

SOUNDWAVE IN BRIS VEGAS TODAY, SHOULD BE WET, MUDDY AND MARVELOUS . . . . APART FROM CYPRESS HILL, ANTHRAX, SLAYER,, METALLICA, KYUSS, BLINK 182, RED FANG AND A CAST OF THOUSANDS . . . . SUPER EXCITED TO CHECK OUT 'GALLOWS', KNOW SWEET FUCK ALL ABOUT EM BUT IF THEY'RE GOOD ENOUGH FOR TIMMY LOVELESS . . . . THEY'RE MORE THAN GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME . . . . I'LL REPORT BACK WITH A POST GIG RAVE . . . . 666, FUCK YEAH !!!

FILE THIS AWAY UNDER - "WHEN TOO MUCH ROCK AND ROLL IS BARELY ENOUGH" OR "BLACK TEE SHIRTS ARE MANDATORY" AND "DON'T SMILE TOO MUCH, AND DON'T FORGET TO LOOK TOUGH"

JUST BOUGHT ANOTHER PAIR OF THESE TO REPLACE THE ONES THAT SOME SCUMBAG PILFERED OFF MY LID BEFORE NEW YEAR . . . . COMES A TIME YOU GOTTA ACCEPT THAT SOME THINGS AIN'T NEVER COMING BACK . . . . THESE'LL BE MY THIRD PAIR OF HALCYON'S IN TWENTY FIVE YEARS, A 'THIRD' WASN'T PLANNED . . . . KINDA UGLY BUT THEY'RE ALL FUNCTION, NO FASHION, JUST BRASS, GLASS AND LEATHER . . . . DID I MENTION THAT I FUCKING HATE THIEVES ????

ROYAL CROWN REVUE "ZIP GUN BOP" . . . . THERE WAS A SHITLOAD OF WIMPY, CARICATURED, COPIEST SKA EMMINATING FROM THE STATES IN THE MID NINETIES . . . . 'HEY, LETS DRESS UP LIKE MADNESS AND PLAY SKA MUSIC, IT'LL BE REALLY KEEN' . . . . UNFORTUNATELY, THE VAST MAJORITY OF IT WAS UTTER FUCKING DROSS, EXCEPT THESE DUDES . . . . IT WASN'T SKA FOR STARTERS, THEY WEREN'T PRETTY BOYS EITHER . . . . AND THEY FULLY TORE IT UP LIVE !!!

THROWBACK FINNED ROCKER COVERS RE-POST . . . . NOTICED LOTS OF TRAFFIC HITTING ON MY BLURB ON JOSH'S FANTASTIC FINNED ROCKER COVERS . . . . SADLY, IT WAS FROM THE DAYS BEFORE MY FEEBLE MIND HAD FIGURED OUT HOW TO PUT UP PHOTOS . . . . SO HERE'S THE ONE I DID LATER ON WHEN THE MAGIC OF PICTURES HAD BEEN REVEALED TO ME . . . . AND YES, THEY ARE EVERY BIT AS GOOD IN THE FLESH AS THEY APPEAR IN THE SHOTS . . . . THANKS AND ENJOY.

When I saw Irish Rich's write-up on these divine pieces from the ultra talented Josh Frazitta my mindbegan to swim, they looked the absolute duck's nuts, only bigger and finned and meant for shovelheads not the feathery bit between the legs of a drake, and I knew I had to have them . . . . I have had a love affair with cast alloy performance parts for years, ever since dad put a finned rocker cover on the LC GTR back in the seventies . . . . when I got my first set of Midtracks in the mail in 1977 that only intensified and moreso when the 169 Indy's arrived some two years later, I remember holding them and kinda rolling them around in my hands, the tiny surface irregularities, the dull sheen instead of a hard, antiseptic shine of chrome or high polish alloy . . . . think Halibrand and American Racing wheels, the wonderful Minilite and all the go fast goodies from the late fifties and early sixties cast from high magnesium content alloys, there is a tactile quality about them quite apart from the straight up visual allure . . . . Throwback's rocker covers are in the same league.

I waited a while until Josh had them all machined and ready to go and when they arrived in the mail, dang, if they weren't even better in the flesh than I imagined they could be, beautiful is a massive understatement, the detail and attention to it, is fully mindboggling, perfectly machined faces, bolt holes and seats, no daggy flash hanging off anywhere and the aesthetic appeal of classic era performance parts, amazingly presented stuff, real quality has an appearance you just can't fake . . . . these things have it in spades.

And just like all the bits and pieces that have come before these eyecatching, sand cast, retro styled, hand made, immaculately finished components, they have that same character, a 'patina' that only this level of quality and production technique possess, individual, massaged with love and care by the human hand, not just popped out of some endless, automated, sterile assembly line . . . . there's real commitment and passion in this shit, you can feel it, you do sense it and, moreover . . . . they look great and will also do a proper job of helping dissipate heat away from the top end . . . . the shovel's gonna thank me for this, sure as hell.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, my sincere thanks and gratitude to Josh Frazzita for top shelf service and having the balls, persistence and unwavering commitment to quality to get these babies out there, well done mate, an extraordinary result you should be rightly chuffed about . . . . I'll run them with real pride. 

"MARK DREWS AND GABE GRIFFIN SPLITTING LANES ON PANHEADS" ['MOONEQUIPPED' HCS09] - I KNOW NOTHIN ABOUT MR GRIFFIN AND LITTLE ABOUT MR DREWS APART FROM HIS TWEEK CRAZY '57 TRUMPY AND A COUPLE OF OTHER TASTY SCOOTS OVER RECENT YEARS . . . . THIS AIN'T ABOUT THE BIKES SO MUCH AS IT IS THE 'VIBE' . . . . TWO DUDES HAVING A BALL AND GETTING AMONG IT, THE HEART OF THE ENTIRE TWO WHEEL GIG . . . . GET ON IT AND RIDE !!!

PLUS, THE BITCHIN BONUS OF GIBBONS, HILL AND BEARD GETTING THEIR FREAK ON IN THE BACKGROUND WITH THEIR CLASSICALLY GROOVY TUNE 'CHEAP SUNGLASSES' . . . . AGAIN, WHAT'S NOT TO LIKE ???

IT'S HALF ONE IN THE A.M AT MY PLACE . . . . WENT TO BED OVER THREE HOURS AGO, CAN'T SLEEP WITH THIS FUCKING EYE CONDITION CALLED 'BLEPHARITIS' . . . . PRESCRIBED REMEDY IS BATHING MY EYES IN JOHNSONS BABY SHAMPOO . . . . I AIN'T KIDDIN . . . . MODERN MEDICINE, GOT TO BE HAPPY WITH THAT !!!!

ALICE COOPER "UNDER MY WHEELS" . . . . WELL, I COULDN'T GET IT OUT OF MY TINY MIND AFTER THE MENTION IN THE DERRINGER POST . . . . THE SON OF A PREACHER MAN WITH A PENCHANT FOR GIRLS NAMES, MAKEUP, SNAKES, INFANTICIDE AND BOOZE . . . . THROW IN SOME OTHER BLOKES IN SKINTIGHT JUMP-SUITS, SPANGLES, DANGLES, CHORDWANGLES AND GLITTER FROM THE SHITTER . . . . WHAT'S NOT TO LIKE . . . . GENUWHINE PRE-PUNK BADNESS

RICK DERRINGER - "ROCK AND ROLL HOOCHIE KOO" (1973) . . . . WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO RICK DERRINGER IS WHAT I ASKED MYSELF WHEN I RAN INTO THIS THE OTHER DAY . . . . HOOCHIE KOO WAS A REAL KILLER FOR ME AS A KID BACK IN '74 . . . . IT WAS THE SHIT THAT THE SENIOR BOYS WERE LISTENING TO, GROWN-UPS MUSIC . . . . I HAD "ALL AMERICAN BOY" UNTIL THE SUMMER OF 1980 WHEN I SOLD A STACK OF LP's TO FINANCE MY DRINKING REQUIREMENTS.

Yeah, 'All American Boy', I loved the shit from when I was thirteen or so, just prototypical, period rock and roll, awesome guitar lines, super tight playing, it kicked arse, the lineup of players on the album was a total hitlist of quality musos, among them Suzi Quatro, Edgar Winter, Joe Walsh and the one and only Patti Smith are just the ones I can remember, it was pretty much underground out here but it was way bigger in the States . . . . what I didn't know then was that he was the main man in the McCoys who had the major sixties bubblegum hit, 'Hang on Sloopy' and he also played guiter on one of my most loved Alice Cooper tracks, "Under My Wheels, he spent heaps of time throwing it down with both Winter freaks and many internationally famous stars to boot . . . . I vaguely recall reading back then he was also involved with Dan Hartman's mega huge disco hit, 'Instant Replay' at which time it gave me the subconscious okay to flog off his album . . . . I haven't heard anything of him for eons, if he's alive or gone to join the big jam in the sky, wherever he's at, he was definitely a big part of my musical palette in my formative years

"CALIFORNIA HOT ROD REUNION 2008" [BY 'WOLF55'] FEATURING A REDHOT ROCKABILLY SOUNDTRACK AND SOME WILD GO FAST FOOTAGE . . . . CLOSE-UPS OF BIG RUBBER, BIG BLOWERS, BIG HEMIS AND BIG SPEED . . . . ALTEREDS, DIGGERS, STOCKERS, SHOCKERS AND ROCKERS . . . . A WHOLE CAN OF CLASSIC WHOOP ASS DRAG RACING SHOWING THESE GENUINE TIRE SHREDDERS IN THEIR INTENDED ENVIRONMENT . . . . BLITZING THE QUARTER MILE !!!!

THIS IS JUST WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT . . . . ALL THE SHIT THAT'S PRETTY MUCH MISSING FROM THE TIMES IN WHICH WE NOW LIVE . . . . NO BULLSHIT, NO CORPORATE GREED AND PLENTY OF GOOD OLD FASHIONED SPEED . . . . ALL MANNER OF BEASTS ARE REPRESENTED WITH SUPERB MOVIE MAKING SKILLS COURTESY OF 'WOLF 55' . . . . IF THIS DOESN'T GIVE YOU A WOODY, YOU'LL NEED MORE THAN VIAGRA.

IF ONLY WE HAD "SMELL-A-VISION" OR "ODORAMA" . . . . IT'D BE ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY PERFECT !!!!

CHRR 2011 "THE MOVIE" ['HOTRODEDDIE'] . . . . THE WORLD PRETTY MUCH STOPS FOR ME IN 1970/71 WHEN IT COMES TO AUTOMOTIVE STUFF . . . . BY 1972 THE ENVIRONMENTALIST AND GREENIE CO-OP HAD STARTED TO EXACT THEIR PISSWEAK REVENGE ON ALL THAT HAD GONE DOWN IN THE PRECEDING DECADES . . . . THE GENERAL PUBLIC WANTED PROTECTION FROM KILLER AUTOMOBILES . . . . BECAUSE RALPH FUCKING NADER AND THE PRESS TOLD THEM SO.

NOT ONLY THAT, BUT DESIGNERS SUDDENLY SEEMED TO LOSE ALL CREATIVITY AND INSPIRATION, CARS BECAME GROTESQUE PARODIES OF WHAT THEY ONCE WERE, BALLS CUT OFF BY THE OIL CRISIS AND MEDIA RUN CAMPAIGN FOR STUPID, FUCKED UP LITTLE CARS THAT WERE ONLY GOOD FOR JOCKEYS AND DWARVES WITH A STYLE DEFICIENCY . . . . THE ONCE GREAT POWERPLANTS FROM THE BIG THREE IN DETROIT WERE STRANGLED AND EMASCULATED BY THE SOCIAL DOGOODER LOBBY IN CAHOOTS WITH 'ARSECLOWN GENERAL' NADER AND HIS GLOBAL ARMY OF SOULLESS,  LOBOTOMISED FOLLOWERS, SO BY THE MID SEVENTIES WE WERE FUCKED !!!

THE MOST WONDERFUL THING ABOUT THE LAST THIRTY YEARS FOR ME HAS BEEN THE EVER MORE POPULAR RISE OF FOLK WITH A LOVE FOR ALL THE GREAT SHIT FROM THE DAYS BEFORE THE BIG DUMB DOWN, THE IDIOTIC, MAD, PASSIONATE SOULS WHO WANT TO KEEP THE ESSENCE OF THE DAYS OF UNLIMITED POWER AND PERFORMANCE ALIVE AND KICKING . . . . THE PRESERVATION AND PRESENTATION OF PRE 1970 DRAG MACHINERY REPRESENTS THE PINNACLE OF THIS ETHOS, TO BE ABLE TO STILL SEE THESE BEHEMOTH BIG BANGERS IN ALL THEIR SPLENDOUR AND GLORY IS WORTHY OF ABSOLUTE ADMIRATION AND RESPECT, NOT TO MENTION THE TESTICLE TICKLING EXCITEMENT THE ORIGINAL SPEED KINGS INDUCE.

THE DUDES WHO RACED THESE WICKEDLY WILD JIGGERS BACK IN THE DAY WILL BE FOREVER MY HARDCORE HEROES OF THE 1/4 MILE, THINGS HAVE GOT FASTER SINCE THEIR HEYDAY BUT THEY AIN'T GOT ANY COOLER OR ANY MORE REQUIRING OF NUTS THE SIZE OF BASKETBALLS . . . . SITTING TWO FEET BEHIND A NITRO BURNING MILL THAT WAS CAPABLE OF SPLATTERING BITS OF THE PILOT ALL OVER THE NEXT TOWN HAS GOTTA BE THE DEFINITIVE DEMONSTRATION OF COOL UNDER PRESSURE.

THE ALLMAN BROTHERS "RAMBLIN' MAN" . . . . ANOTHER 'SOUTHERN' BAND THAT OVERCAME ENORMOUS TRAGEDY TO BECOME CERTIFIED LIVING LEGENDS . . . . TALKING WITH MIKEEYRAT ON THE WEEKEND REMINDED ME JUST HOW EPIC THESE DUDES REALLY ARE . . . . DUANE ALLMAN DIED ON HIS SPORTY THEN A LITTLE OVER A YEAR LATER, BERRY OAKLEY WENT OUT IN THE SAME WAY . . . . OVERCOMING THE KIND OF LOSS VERY FEW BANDS EVER MANAGE TO ACHIEVE.

My second band once did an entire Queensland tour with The Fabulous Thunderbirds, fuck, it was brilliant, sitting sidestage watching Jimmy, Kim and co chew through song after song, just awesome. Got to hangout with Jimmy over the week and talked about tons of stuff, a really sweet, super cool guy with real Texas style and charm and fully down to earth . . . . the thing that has always stayed with me above all else was what he said about his virtuoso brother, Stevie Ray, he said SRV's greatest fear in life was dying on the road like so many Texan and Southern musos had done before him, I kid you not. Sure enough, about six to eight months later, there it was, a clean and sober Stevie Ray Vaughan dies in helicopter crash, fuck !!!

There is a tragic litany of bluesmen, country crooners and rock and rollers from the southern states who have fallen foul of this almost hoodoo jinx going back to Hank Williams, Buddy Holly and the Big Bopper, so many bands have been touched by this bizarre curse it is mind bogglingly sad, The Allman Brothers, Lynyrd Skynyrd, SRV, Ozzy Osbourne and the list of others that I can't recall right now . . . . despite their double dose of death the Allman Brothers are still around today in a pretty legit lineup and still cranking out the style of music they helped invent, I'm guilty of bagging them in all my post punk, anti hippie, shallow diatribe bullshit but the truth is patently clear . . . . I love em, the sound, the vibe, the look and the incredible desire to move forward in the way that their absent buddies would've wanted . . . . Southern Men, we need em around.

"GOLD COAST CAFE SOCIETY" OR "40 KLMS FOR SOME FOLK IS A LONG RIDE" . . . . THE MAIN DRAG OF THE TOWNSHIP OF CANUNGRA, 2.30 P.M ON A SUNDAY, FOUR HOURS EARLIER AND IT WOULDA BEEN GUTTER TO GUTTER SOLID BLING AND GLITTER . . . . STUFFED TO THE EYEBALLS WITH ALL THE INTREPID SOULS OUT FOR THE BIG THRASH, AN INCREDIBLE AND ARDUOUS 38 KILOMETRES OF HARD RIDING HELL . . . . I MEAN, WTF, A HALF HOUR DAWDLE FOR A COFFEE ??

Please, don't get me arse about on this, I'm not some thousand mile every weekend, hardcore, hard ridin dude, but when I'm going for a thrash on the weekend, I'm not going to be spiritually fulfilled by a half hour piddle for a fucking coffee when the sun is shining and the scoot's barely warmed up, what's the bloody point of having a bike if that's going to be your definition of living the dream . . . . I often ride during the week as part of my day gig, sometimes on a day's round trip I might stack 300+ klms on the Purple Penis, other days it might be only 50 or so, but come the weekend, all I can think about is gassing up and planting my fat arse in the saddle and getting gone for the day at least, if not an overnighter . . . . the idea of meeting up with the lads and toodling up the mountain for barely forty minutes just to nip it in the bud for the sake of a coffee and a pie, then turn around and head home, has always seemed utterly fucking ridiculous to me.

This is where many of the longhaul, weekend warriors gather in my neck of the woods, resplendent in all their finest factory clobber, their bejewelled steeds sadly doing the cooling metal 'tinkle-tinkle' tethered to the invisible hitching rail, whether they're on Harleys, Hondas, Hyabusas or Hyosungs, Beemers, screamers or in-be-fucking-tweeners, they all do the same bloody thing and then head home. I reckon all of us enjoy not only the riding aspect of being on two wheels but obviously the attention it draws from Joe Public, anyone who says they don't is flat out lying, but wouldn't it all feel incredibly shallow if the only people you're playing up to are the same vacuous souls week in week out, always the same boring destination, just so you can be home in time for lunch and the afternoon sport on telly . . . . fuck off to that shit !!!!

On this particular mid arvo two weeks ago, I had pulled in for my 'coffee' on the way back from a pleasant couple of hundred klicks since seven a.m and the majority of 'them' had long since departed, the dude who was on the billet bacon slicer parked beside me asked if the Penis Mosheen was 'a genuine shovelhead' and then tried to turn it around when I pointed out that it was in fact a 2010 Skirtster . . . . the only bloke in the place who was actually a serious, long term rider was the old greybeard you can see sitting down, his one owner '85 Evo had just been loaded into the back of a ute with its guts hanging out of the crankcases and he was trying to avoid Billet Boy as he waited for his missus to come and rescue him. Turned out that Jock was a local who recognised me from the Doghouse back in the mid nineties and we ended up exchanging phone numbers and made a commitment to catch up for serious ride as soon as he has refurbished the exploded Evo . . . . we also confirmed by mutual agreement that a morning jaunt for a coffee was not going to be on the agenda.

TED NUGENT "CAT SCRATCH FEVER" LIVE ON 'MIDNIGHT SPECIAL' . . . . AH YES, THE MOTOR CITY MADMAN, STAUNCH ADVOCATE OF GUN CONTROL AND BIG HAIR AFICIONADO . . . . WHEN IT CAME TO GUITAR SLINGIN, COON-TAIL FLASHIN, HEADBAND WEARIN, BOUFFANT BLOWIN, BOOGIE BASHIN BADNESS, TED WAS THE KING . . . . WITH FUCK-ALL MAINSTREAM RADIO SUPPORT HE WAS PULLIN THE BIGGEST CROWDS IN THE ROCK+ROLL CIRCUS AT HIS PEAK.

SILLY SONG TITLE ENTHUSIAST PAR EXCELLENCE, POOR OLD TED NEVER SAW THE PUNK BEHEMOTH COMING AND BY THE END OF THE SEVENTIES, LIKE SO MANY OF HIS BIG HAIRED, BIG FLARED, SATIN CLAD, DINOSAUR KIN, HE'D BEEN RENDERED ALL BUT OBSOLETE . . . . STILL, I'VE ALWAYS HAD A WARM GUN IN MY TROUSERS FOR THE DETROIT ROCKER WITH A PENCHANT FOR ANIMAL PELTS AND FIREARMS.

GOOD, HONEST STUFF NEVER GOES OUT OF STYLE, IT JUST GETS FUCKED UP BY THE FORCES OF MASS MARKETING AND ADVERTISING DICKHEADS . . . . IT BECOMES A FAD, THE NEW BIG THING, THE DOMAIN OF HIPSTERS AND FASHION WANNABES . . . . AND THEN IT FADES FROM VIEW AND THE LATEST 'SCENE' TAKES OVER . . . . BUT WHEN THE BUBBLE BURSTS, SOME OF US CONTINUE WEARING THE SAME THREADS, DOING THE SAME SHIT AND BEING THE SAME PEOPLE WE ARE.

"SAY MAN . . . . WHERE'D YOU GET YOUR MULESKINNERS FROM ?" . . . . SAY WHAT ????

TWENTY FIVE YEARS AGO OR THEREABOUTS I GOT A PAIR OF RED WINGS FROM NERANG SADDLERY, I DIDN'T KNOW THEY WERE CALLED 'MULESKINNERS' OR 8113's, THEY WERE JUST GOOD OLD FASHIONED BOOTS AND IN MY PREFERRED FINISH, OILED SUEDE, THEY COST AROUND $100.00 WHICH WAS BIG BICCIES BACK THEN AND WERE COMFY AS ALL GET OUT FROM DAY ONE . . . . SURE ENOUGH, EVERYONE PUT SHIT ON ME FOR WEARING 'SPASTIC' OR 'POLIO' SHOES, ASKED ME WHERE MY CALIPERS WERE, CALLED ME A DORK OR A MYRON AND GENERALLY TOOK THE PISS, THEY LASTED UNTIL THEY LITERALLY ROTTED APART SOMEWHERE IN THE MID NINETIES, I ONLY GOT EM IN THE FIRST PLACE BECAUSE THE LEGENDARY AND SIMILAR AUSSIE 'T-BOOT' LACE UP I WAS LOOKING FOR WASN'T AVAILABLE ON THE DAY . . . . ME AND CHOOK NEVER GOT THE WHOLE 'COLORADO'/'TIMBERLAND' SCHTICK THAT WAS RAPIDLY BECOMING THE THING TO BE SEEN IN BY THE OFFICE JOHNNY CROWD AND THE SURFIE BOY ELEMENT, WE WERE INTO BIKES AND CARS AND FUCKING ABOUT WITH EM, NOT LOOKIN LIKE SOME GANGSTA RAP DUDE WITH BAGGIES AND BUTT-CRACK . . . . AND THEY WERE TIMELESS, FUNCTIONAL, COOL SHIT, WE KNEW IT AND THAT'S ALL THAT MATTERED, FUCK EVERYONE ELSE.

PAIR #3 . . . . APPARENTLY THEY'RE CALLED 'MULESKINNERS' NOT BOOTS . . . . FUCK ME !!!

NOWADAYS THERE ARE BLOGS ABOUT EM, EVERYONE'S WEARIN THEIR WINGS, THE LOFTIEST SCOOT RIDIN GODS TO THE LOWLIEST TRY HARDS, YOU'RE EITHER A HERO OR A ZERO DEPENDING ON WHO'S MAKING THE CALL, APPARENTLY IT'S BEEN DECREED I'M NOW A HIPSTER, WHEREAS BACK IN THE LATE EIGHTIES I WAS A DWEEB OR A DORK FOR WEARING THE EXACT SAME BOOTS . . . . I SURELY DIDN'T WEAR EM FIRST, BUT NEITHER DID THE SELF PROCLAIMED ARBITERS OF CONTEMPORARY COOL AND HARDCORE, THE NEW JACK CITY BIKER BOY CHIC CLIQUE, THE SELVEDGE DENIM SECRET POLICE, THE INNER SANCTUM OF THOSE WHO HOLD THE DIVINE RIGHT OF THE SPIRIT OF THE SIXTIES, NO MAN, FUCK YOU AND THE BOOTS YOU WALKED IN ON . . . . I WONDER IF ALL THE DUDES OUT IN THE BOONIES AND THE BACKWOODS, ALL THE OLD TIMER MECHANICS AND GREASERS ARE FEELING JUST A LITTLE RIPPED OFF OVER THE LAST FIFTEEN, TWENTY YEARS, THEY'RE THE ONES WHO WERE TRADITIONALLY  HOOFIN IT ON RED WINGS AND CHIPPEWAS, T-BOOTS AND BLUNDSTONES . . . . YEAH, WE'RE ALL JUST CHEAP, COPIEST WHORES IN THE END, NOTHING'S NEW, NOTHING BELONGS TO US . . . . AND YOU DON'T GET TO STAND ON TOP OF YOUR OWN LITTLE MOUNTAIN PROCLAIMING  ORIGINAL, HOLIER THAN THOU, SELF RIGHTEOUSNESS WITHOUT GIVING YOURSELF AWAY AS JUST ANOTHER PHONY, PHAKE, PHASHION PHOLLOWING PHUCK . . . . COME ON DOWN BEFORE YOU FALL AND HURT YOUR PERIOD CORRECT PERFECT POSTERIOR.

BROTHERS GRIM AND THE BLUE MURDERS "ON THE METER" . . . . DIRTY, TWISTED, SEETHING, BOTTLENECK SLIDIN, SEXBEATEN, HARD DRIVIN, BLEARY EYED, SWAMP WITCH BLUES . . . . IMAGINE 'THE GUN CLUB' GETTIN JIGGY WITH EARLY AC/DC WHILE BEING PLIED WITH BAD ACID AND SHITTY MOONSHINE . . . . THINK OF ROOTS BLUES MEETS INNER CITY GRUNGE . . . . HELL YEAH, ITS THAT KINDA THING, TURN THE MOTHERFUCKER UP . . . . GET GRIM OR DIE TRYIN !!!!

SO . . . . YOU WANT SOME 'REAL' BLUES MUSIC . . . . WELL, SUCK MY SNAKEBITE !!!

JUST IN CASE Y'ALL FORGOT . . . . AUSSIE KICKS MUSICAL ARSE . . . . THESE GUYS ARE YET ANOTHER EXAMPLE OF PROOF POSITIVE . . . . STRAIGHT TO HELL IN THE BACK OF A CAB . . . . C'MON THEN . . . . WHADDAYA GOT . . . . THOUGHT SO . . . . FUCK ALL !!!! 

"1970 STROKER SHOVELHEAD CHOPPER KICKSTART" ['MRKICKSTART11'] MORE COOL SHIT FROM THE EPICENTRE OF THE MODERN LONG BIKE . . . . MAYBE IT GOES BACK TO THEIR AFFILIATION WITH LONGBOATS, SHIT, I DON'T KNOW . . . . BUT I DO KNOW THAT THE SWEDISH CREW HAVE HAD A THANG GOING ON WITH THE OVERLY LONG FOR OVER TWO DECADES . . . . 'HAZY DAIZY' SPORTS A BIG INCH TROUBLEHEAD, A CRAZY LOW IDLE ON TOP OF RON JEREMY LIKE LENGTH.

Back in the early nineties I had the misfortune of riding a Trumpy chop with a front end not unlike that on the uber groovy 'Hazy Daizy', it was a piece of shit to start with, crapped out mid 70's Tiger motor in a late 60's donor frame, a poorly spoked sixteen inch pig wheel on the bodgy as fuck rigid arse end, nineteen up front, excruciatingly badly executed engineering where the ridiculous front end was vaguely attached to the headstock, 18" apes that musta been a metre wide, no semblance of braking ability, and this was just the good side of the equation . . . . our workshop was charged with the sacred quest to get the shitbox running as close to an actual motorcycle as we could, our two resident ace wrenchers and avowed chopper haters gave it their best and at least the old single carb 750 was able to hold idle, change gears and make forward progress, after a fashion, but there was only so much that could be done with the rest of the thing allowing for the virtually non existent budget of its lucky and loving owner . . . . you can't polish a turd.

As the youngest member of Classic Bike Tune and the non-mechanic/parts dude, I was given the decidedly dubious treat of taking the fucker for it's shakedown ride around the block, much to the undies soiling laughter of my partners Ron and Dave and the shop apprentice, Grub. It was without a fucking doubt the most miserable and unenjoyable two wheeled experience of my thirty odd year old life . . . . it was nigh on impossible to shift gears, it wouldn't turn, it didn't stop, it made my arse bleed, it burnt my leg and generally performed like the primitive piece of excement that it was, at this point I was so turned off by my first 'chopper' moment I swore I'd never entertain straddling another one as long as my now bleeding arse pointed to the ground.

Well, twenty years later, I've ridden a few more of these fandangled things, they still handle like a semi on ice, my arse always ends up screaming and one of them burnt my calf so badly I could smell the flesh sizzling, but unlike the diabolical mechanical abortion that I attempted to poke around the block at Taree Street all those years ago, they have been well engineered, meticulously built and a truckload of fun to almost ride, and more importantly still, despite their handling shortfalls, they look the absolute and total fucking bollocks . . . . and by the end of the Aussie winter 2013, I'll be riding my own, not with the extra length front end like the perfectly purple 'Hazy Daizy', just two inches slightly over, but a chopper it will be nonetheless . . . . I can hear Dave and Ronnie cacking themselves right now . . . . and I couldn't give a bag of frosted cocks.

"HARLEY DAVIDSON 1947EL KNUCKLEHEAD CHOBBER BOPPER" ['KNUCKLE4036'] . . . . ONCE AGAIN THE LADS FROM THE LAND OF THE RISING SUN TAKING AUTHENTICITY TO ANOTHER LEVEL . . . . BUMPED INTO THIS ONE A WHILE AGO AND HAVE KEPT COMING BACK TO DROOL EVER SINCE . . . . I DON'T GIVE A RAT'S ARSE WHAT YOU WANNA CALL THE THING BUT IT'S ONE KING HELL COOL BIT OF KIT IN MY EYES . . . . LABELS MEAN FUCK ALL, IT'S JUST TOO GOOD.

Way back before the whole post-Hollister, mainstream media proliferated view of those who were labelled by the straight-laced AMA as the '1%' of the riding population, most hot bikes of the Hoggly variety looked basically like the raw-boned, bare essentials, bastard child featured in this vidjo . . . . everyone knows the story behind bobbing and then ultimately, at least according to the popular consensus, chopping, and when it comes to an illustration of the former, this little fucker rates right at the pointy end of the pyramid of cool . . . . everything that was deemed useless and dead weight has been jettisoned leaving nothing other than what's required to get the job done when it comes to nailing it wide open and going beyond broke, the bobbed rear fender sitting atop the mean arsed grooved slick is the total horn, the perfectly positioned pipe, no cables, no front brake, the axed tanks, risers, the semi knobby up front . . . . not to mention the stance and the brilliant lines of the frame against the springer/bars set up and the balance between rear and front wheels, this thing stinks of nothing less than the business end of the knuckle stick, yeah, I like it . . . . a lot !!!!

THE STRAY CATS "RACE WITH THE DEVIL" . . . . DON'T EVEN START ON THE ROCKABILLY REVIVAL HATING THING, CHECK YOURSELF BEFORE YOU WET YOURSELF . . . . THESE GUYS WERE JUST BORN OUT OF TIME, BLOODY EXCEPTIONAL FROM BE BOP TO LULA . . . . PLUS IN THIS CLIP YOU GET FLOODED WITH LEGIT PERIOD DRAG RACE ACTION . . . . BIKES, ALTEREDS, SLINGSHOTS, TOPOLINOS, BUCKETS . . . . THE SHIT AS IT WAS AND AS IT SHOULD BE . . . . GONNA BALL !!!!

GIDDAY ALL, HOPE EVERYTHING HAS BEEN JUST DANDY IN BLOGLAND WHILST I'VE BEEN OFF HAVING A LIFE . . . . NICE TO TAKE A QUICK BREATHER AFTER MY FIRST YEAR OF FUCKING ABOUT WITH THIS HERE THING . . . . I'VE ENJOYED EVERY MINUTE OF IT BUT REALLY JUST NEEDED TO STOP BLURBING AND STAY THE FUCK AWAY FOR A WHILE . . . . ANYHOO, BATTERIES ARE RECHARGED AND THE GEARS UPSTAIRS ARE ALMOST MESHING CORRECTLY, I'M BACK !!!

JUST ANOTHER DAY SOMEWHERE SOUTH OF SUFFERERS PARASITE . . . . FOUR FRIENDS, A MESS OF GRITS AND A NICE ARRAY OF BEERS, STEERS AND QUEERS . . . . PERFECTION.

SKYLAR GREY FEATURING EMINEM "C'MON LET ME RIDE" . . . . . HERE I AM AGAIN, SPEAKING THE UNSPEAKABLE, LOVING THE UNLOVABLE AND DIGGING WHAT'S DEEMED UNDIGGABLE AT 'HARD-MAN H.Q' . . . . FROM MY PERSONAL "CHICKS I'D LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH" FILES . . . . SUPER SARKY SEXY SOCIAL COMMENTARY FROM THE THINKING BLOKE'S HILLBILY PRINCESS . . . . GRRLS IN FLANNEL . . . . HELL YEAH !!!!

SERIOUSLY . . . . WATCH IT, LISTEN TO IT, DIG IT . . . . IT'S COOL . . . . IF YOU CAN'T . . . . FUCK THAT !!!

TAG AS . . . .  REALLY SAYING SOMETHING . . . . MAKING MINAJ AND AGUILERA LOOK SUPER SKANKY