Thanks to my fabulous friend Nicole who managed to re-unite me with this long lost gem, I have an early mix to share, recorded live at Heaven nightclub in 1999.
This was one of my favourite nights to play, we’d get very messy, play banging house and be home in bed by 4am. What more could you ask for?
Hope you enjoy this flashback, as camp and commercial as it is, it’s one of my favourites. At the time I recorded it we gave away about 150 copies, without me managing to hang on to mine!
You’ll need Winrar to unzip the file, just so ya know…
Daytime television. Urgh. I had to go to the doc’s again yesterday and do a blood test (vampires, get excited now!) for glandular fever as my neck has gone a wee bit neckalicious.
In the meantime, for something different I’ve been lying on the floor watching daytime TV. Most of it blends together but I feel that Entertainment Tonight needs a special mention.
Pietastic, no? (Click to enlarge, much like my neck!)
As part of my recovery from my failed attempt at starting a Television Set Removal Company (stairs are our specialty!) it was recommended by mean hurty physio man that I get a walking stick.
This has in fact helped tremendously with my mobility and has proven enormously helpful when I’ve needed to wave it at those dagnabbed goshdarnit kids that keep letting their football land in my yard. A few years in the military will sort those tearaways out, mark my words! *falls asleep and wets self*
There are, however some activities that aren’t as easy once you have a walking stick, and because you’re no doubt completely riveted at this point I’ll list them for you.
Applauding while standing.
Catching ANYTHING.
Carrying soup.
Throwing a tantrum and storming off. Your dramatic exit tends to lose its impact when it clocks in at just under one metre per minute.
Joining in a Mexican Wave.
Stalking. Those fuckers are just too fast. Dannii Minogue can probably drop the restraining order now.
Rollerdisco. It’s impossible to find a third skate small enough for the walking stick. Or god forbid a stick with even a hint of sequin.
Flipping pancakes. Neither myself nor the fluffy breakfast treat are easy to get off the floor.
Walking on wet tiles at the swimming pool. It’s suddenly like your hand is grasping the handrail on an escalator. Both hand and stick try to leave without you. Hilarity for everone but you and your lumbar region ensues.
Crossing a four lane main road at five pm carrying a watermelon. Again with the hilarity.
All of the above, plus smarty pants physio telling me to ’stick’ with it and I’ll see improvement has just made life so much easier and bearable.
Compared to say……..being ass raped by a dragon in a roll of barbed wire.
It’s all about the pipe wrench. Enjoy this updated literal video version of A-ha’s 1984 hit ‘Take On Me‘. Thanks to Anthony for the heads up. This work of genius was created by Dustin Mclean of DustFilms.com
So I haven’t posted for months, which is very slack but I have a very good excuse. Note from Mum below……
The stairs out the front of my house and myself didn’t get along very well. Of course I’ve had a little stumble on them now and then. After all I’ve been living here for eight years. But I saved the classic comedy style ’stack’ for August the 6th while carrying big ol’ heavy television by myself. Thunk. Argh. Crunch. You get the idea.
But please don’t worry, gentle reader. The television was smart enough to land on me, so it’s fine.
I however have some spiney owieness that’s making it near impossible to walk, stand or sit for more than ten or fifteen minutes. Not that much fun for me, but hilarious to watch when I attempt a snail like shuffle across a four lane main road to get supplies for the day.
Most of the day is spent lying on my side on the floor or in bed, watching any form of television or surfing la web on my laptop. After two months of this I’ve gotten rather bored and decided that lay-bloggin may be the answer.
The first step was of course to redesign the site using my amazing technical skills download a new template for my blog, the second step will be to blog the days away between doses of Valium, Panadeine Forte and Muscle relaxants, in anticipation of a bi-weekly visit to Mike the physiotherapist, which the more ‘mensa’ among you would have realized is of course an anagram for ‘that fucking hurts you crazy muscle pushing hellbeast’.
At the moment the valium is arguing with the panadeine so as I type everything’s going a little bit fainter.
My favourite music website Popjustice posted an acapella MP3 of Leona Lewis’ “Bleeding Love” and invited readers to send in their comedy mash-ups.
Never one to ignore a challenge, I thought I’d give it a go. I had a couple of attempts to begin with - originally based on the idea that such a stirring power ballad would sound pant wettingly funny as a cheesy disco number.
Finally, inspiration struck - Leona needed to have a 90’s style, 138 BPM, Hi-NRG remix. As if someone had wiped away her tears, rubbed glitter all over her tits, stuck a sparkler up her ass and shoved her into the middle of a gay club at 4am.
I present to you - Leona Lewis Vs Crush - JelLeonahead (Seb Sharp’s Bum-diddy Bum-diddy mashup)
Craptacular in the extreme and contains a very poor imitation of the ‘Tay-Tay-Tay’ bit from Mel & Kim’s “Respectable”. Ahh the 90’s dance remix. I’m proud to be so old carrying on the tradition.
If you want to download your own copy of the above, click here.
* Update : ‘Avid Reader’ (didn’t know I had any of those, how exiting!) Corey has emailed me and suggested that there was something lacking in the last mix. He has identified the missing ingredient as cowbell.
Here ya go - Leona Lewis Vs Crush Vs A Shitload Of Cowbell : JelLeonahead (Seb Sharp’s Simon Cowbell X Factor Re-Mash)
Now featuring a different camptastic bit before the first verse! And cowbell!
I just checked my Hotmail, and found a junk email with the title ‘Freak Them Out…..With Your New Hooters’. Being a six foot four man I believe that yes, I probably would.
Dating - There’s a reason it rhymes with Satan. Sort of.
Having been single for a while, I’m beginning to yearn for some company. A least I think it’s a yearning. It’s a feeling of rampant horniness coupled with the feeling you get when you realise that there’s no one to send out in a downpour to fetch DVD’s for you while you lay on the couch in your Calvins eating toasted bagels. The acronym for the latter is T.F.Y.G.W.Y.R.T.T.N.O.T.G.O.I.A.D.A.F.D.W.Y.L.O.T.C.I.Y.C.E.T.B, so it’s probably easier for all concerned if we just call it a yearning.
The only problem with me having a yearning like this is the fact that I am a total and utter freak magnet. Yes indeed. I manage to unearth the chameleons of gay society. The good-looking, balanced, take- em-home-to-mum types who once taken out of their natural environment and placed at a table opposite me turn into serial morons. To give you an example, all of the following have been uttered to me on a first date -
“I have to confess - I was due to move interstate the day after I met you, but I cancelled all of my plans just in case this works out..”
“Um…do you want to go to the movies after dinner? My boyfriend locked me out of the house when I told him I was seeing you.”
(whispers)”The waiter knows my wife. Tell him you’re my cousin”
“So, do you have a credit card? What’s your limit on it? Do you always carry it?”
“Oh..would you mind paying for the limo and dinner? I forgot my wallet. Happy Birthday, by the way. Um… you should really tip the waiter. Shall we go back to yours?”
(sighs) “I would have to be the world’s unluckiest man. I just can’t believe that all this shit keeps happening to me and..” (chokes on food, turns blue)
“The interesting thing about the antidepressants was that once they upped the dosage, I then felt suicidal as well as depressed…..(laughs a little bit too hard)….how ironic is that?”
“I only own three cd’s actually……I don’t like music much. I’m into tabletop gaming.”
“I’ve had my eye on you for a while……..So you saw (name of an ex) for two years, and then you got snapped up by (another ex), but that didn’t last long. And then you had a one night stand with (one night stand’s name)…. Do you still live on (street name)??”
“So, does my name get put on the door permanently if I tell them I’m your boyfriend?
“I’m not a racist, BUT……”
To my credit, I never once choked on my sushi. No matter how hard I tried. I think someone needs to vet my future choices. Like the police, perhaps….
I’d just like to say that it’s probably not a very good idea to keep your blue liquid record spray next to your bottle of Gaultier blue cologne spray. When you’re tired, and about to rush off to a late night gig, the chances of you confusing the two and giving yourself a very clean, anti-static neck are very high.
So, being a dj and needing to play up to twenty hours of music a week to the disco lovin’ masses, I’m constantly on the search for new tunes to spin. The majority of them I buy from my day job as ‘jaded record assistant guy’ at an import vinyl store, some I get as promos from record companies and the rest I get from friends overseas who send new tracks directly to my door.
So, in one week you can have up to thirty or forty new tunes. The hard part is listening to all of them, and comitting them to memory, so when you’re at your gig, you know which new track is which, and what you can mix it in with. The need to learn tracks forwards, backwards and inside out was never more important than the night that I played a fab little ditty called “I Wanna Rock” for the first time.
“I Wanna Rock” is a funky, electro tinged tune produced by sonic master Giorgio Moroder (of Donna Summer’s ‘I Feel Love’ fame). It was sent to me by my gorgeous friend Ryan in the UK, along with some other tracks he thought I might get all tingly and excited about. Because he’d sent me a few, and I was playing that night, I skimmed though them by listening to the intro, a bit of the middle, and finally the outro. Just enough to get the feel of it, and know where the mix points were. Of all the tracks he’d sent me, “I Wanna Rock” was my favourite. It was chunky, had a great bassline and featured an unnamed black diva belting out some serious action in the breakdown. Perfect for playing at a gay club.
As luck would have it, that night’s gig was at a gay club, so I packed it in my box of soulful chunky disco tunes ( or were they? let’s count them on one hand….. sorry, private joke…) and ventured off to work.
As the club filled up, I got the dancefloor going with a few choice cuts, and when things were really starting to take off, I decided it was time to unleash “I Wanna Rock”. I mixed it in and watched as people bounced up and down enthusiastically to it’s pounding rhythms. The dancefloor was soon overflowing as the bass hit it’s peak and slammed into the song’s breakdown. This was the first time I’d heard it on a big system, and I was loving it.
“There’s only one - He’s the one to keep you safe……”, screamed the diva as I grooved on the spot, listening to the crowd yell their approval.
“There’s only one - He can take away the booze…..”, she continued, as I tried to work out what she meant.
“There’s only one - He can take away the lighter….”, she warbled, as I began to work out that it was perhaps a gospel vocal.
“There’s only one - He can keep your lips from swearing…” she stated, as cousin Scout gave me a quizzical look from the lighting desk.
Then just as I was beginning to worry that the crowd would notice (hotpant wearing gay men tripping off their tits on amyl and ecstasy aren’t really big on the whole ‘don’t drink because god loves you’ thing) she stopped singing. Then the backing music stopped momentarily as she drew breath to belt out
“AND HIS NAAAAAAAME IS JEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!” at the top of her very well trained lungs.
I died on the spot. Scout broke into fits of giggles as the whole room looked up at me and gasped. Even the doorman came up from downstairs to do the whole ‘what the fuck???’ hand gesture thing.
Within three seconds of miss diva rubberlungs extolling the virtues of the big J, the dancefloor had emptied, aside from three very confused looking Japanese students, who didn’t know whether to evacuate or smile for the hidden cameras.
The worst part was that if by some chance, someone hadn’t noticed the huge faux pas I’d comitted, the unknown diva on the record continued wailing… “Jesus! Jesus! He’ll be by your side! Jesus! Jesus!! Jesus!! Jeeeeesus!!! He’s great!! Jesus!! He’s such a fab dresser!! Jesus!! Jesus!! He makes great toasted sandwiches!! Jesus!! He’s the one for you!! Jesus!! He’ll save your soul!! Jesus!! Jesus! Gimme a J!!! Gimme an ESUS!! etc etc etc.
So I did the only thing I could, I quickly mixed in the next record, dropped to the floor, and hid under the console.
Almost six months later people still ask me if it was some kind of clever joke. I lie and say yes.
I also listen to all of my new tracks from start to finish, taking particular note of any biblical references.
Bringing back the soul, indeed…..
Have your own Jesus-tastic moment by pressing play and running off the dancefloor….
