For more Scene Watch with DJ P-Modern check these:
Dear DJ P-Modern, how is it that you are consistently funny and insightful at the same time?! I find your work an inspiration and wait with bated breath for each new issue – DJ Pmodern, will you marry me?Dear mother, we’ve talked about this, and we both decided that it isn’t right.
Before we get started, Scene Watch would like to extend a warm, congratulatory hand to Beat magazine for putting DJ Tommy Sunshine on the front cover of 100% on 11/04/07. In a week that sees tours from The Roots and Todd Terry, to put DJ Harvey look-a-like Tommy Sunshine on the cover was a bold and cunning editorial move, of the kind we’ve come to expect from Beat. If anyone knows WHO THE FUCK Tommy Sunshine is, Scene Watch would love to know. Please email DJ P-Modern Here Thanks. (Ps. Tommy Sunshine also appears in a couple of full page ads in the street press that week… hmm…)
House DJ Simon Digby died in the church and was buried along with his name. Nobody came.
Reports that 15 clubbers were kidnapped by promoters from Ding Dong lounge have recently been confirmed by the rock club’s owner, Dave “guitar, bass and drums” Stevens. “Yes, we have the clubbers” said Dave, sporting a Pringle v-neck and feverishly handing out flyers, “They were found inside our venue in designer clothing and were reportedly asking for house music”.
As the face of new media continues to change, so too does our understanding of the world around us. As Marshall McLuhan famously said “The medium is the message”: how true this has come to be. The very language and navigation we use to understand a text is ever-shifting as a conduit to understanding, therefore our understanding itself shifts with it. From the early times of oratory discourse to the emergence of the written word and on to radio and the internet – as old media morphs into new – the very basic ideas of communication and understanding are challenged at each turn.
Blessed, then is he who can move with this hyper-evolution, anticipate its movement – embrace its every fluctuation. Rupert Murdoch (a subscriber to Scene Watch) has shown great initiative, for example, in acquiring Myspace, Google in buying Youtube, even PBL and Fairfax are, as we speak, moving closer and closer to connected, online communities. All of who share an excitement of what’s next.
But there is one, special movement that has so far ducked beneath the radar of the new world. A micro-movement so very far ahead of it’s time that few have the vision to even notice. I am talking, of course, of Beat TV. Think Hey Hey It’s Saturday meets the Cartoon Connection meets Channel V, hosted by a couple of absolute muppets never afraid to ask the hard questions of their interviewees:
(Crystal Method interview) “What is the freakiest myth about Australia that you go home and you laugh about to your American mates?“ Ah, that cringe full Aussie tradition of “What do you think of us? Do you like Australia? Do you? Really?! You Americans are so cool! Can we give you a hand job? Please! Oh pretty please!!!&rdquo Other highlights include the Lilly Allen interview, conducted by some guy who looks like he’s been snorting ketamine for about three days and was dressed by a sixteen-year-old sales assistant from Dangerfield. He makes only one reference to her music (which, while not exactly in the upper echelons of progressive sounds – isn’t that bad: is it a crime to like Smile?) and spends the rest of the time stroking her already inflated ego: “Wow – did you really call Bob Geldof a cunt? You are so outspoken! Wow, so you were at Cookie last night? How was that?”
You were at Cookie last night?! What the fuck does that have to do with anything? Did she like it? Did she? Oh, I hope she liked it! I can see Lilly Allen giving an interview to Rolling Stone magazine saying “Oh, and I went to Cookie in Melbourne! Oh – what a night!&rdquo Sheesh. For God’s sake - how about asking ”So you’ve made a bucket of cash by putting on an East End accent that you clearly haven’t acquired naturally so as to gain some street cred. You’ve basically sold-the-fuck-out, but are lucky enough to have maintained a street-image. Clever. How do you sleep at night?”
So the revolution has begun. Beat TV. It’s pretty much exactly like the print version, but even more cringefull. The hosts feel they have to ham it up more for the camera’s – be funny and ’wild‘ a la MTV, as if they’re targeting a teenage audience. Where as the print version does have it’s moments of seriousness (Khalil Hegarty and Cyclone spring to mind), Beat TV really is targeted at little kids. Another sad day in Australian music journalism, but look on the bright side – I won a Ministry of Sound CD and a lollypop!
the Scene Watch Advertorial Challenge
That's right faithful, the time has come. After reading the street press for ten years - or at least the small portion of its weekly words that a single brain can take - the hour is nigh for the Scene Watch Advertorial challenge. Take a stroll to your local cafe, record store, restaurant, hipster outpost and pick up a copy of the most recent Beat or Inpress. Relax in a seat. Grab a latte, a chai or whatever the fuck and sit down. Get a side of fruit toast. Take a few deep breaths. Appear unfazed to the outside world. Prepare yourself for the goodness that will undoubtedly lay inside. And then rip that paper open, turn to 100% / Zebra and read as much as you can in a single sitting. The challenge is to find a music article that doesn't relate to a recently placed advertisement. If you can bear it, give yourself a few weeks of this, find the patterns in the print,the regular spending record labels and houses of promotion. This is no one-off occurence, Scene Watch massive, but a recurring phenomenon...
Oh my, an article on Satoshi Tomiie in Zebra # 694 from the 11th April. Dig the full page ad on page 5. Todd Terry on the cover you say? That's funny, there he is again on page 7 in a full page ad with Carl Cox and again in a full page article on page 12! It's crazy! They must really like him... I could go on but I will. Minuit article page 14, quarter page ad page 33. Beat magazine's tome for the dance world, 100%, of the same week is little better. Tommie Sunshine adorns the cover, is the subject of a feature article on page 6 and there's also an ad for his gig at One Love on page 7. How handy, the article and the advertisement are facing one another! And check page 27 for another handy pairing. The top half of the page is an article on r&b demon Nino Brown who's playing at Peril's Soul Clap Saturday on May 26. Immediately below are two advertisements for Soul Clap Saturdays! The synchronicity of it all is amazing...
Forget the notion that these papers exist for the community, to transfer the vibe on the "street" (that's what they call themselves isn't it?). We're talking cash baby. And despite the woolly thickness of the philanthropic cloak these publications may shroud themselves in, we know that money makes the world go round. But Scene Watch ain't breaking any news there. Maybe they should call themselves "The Office Press". Record company lackeys make phonecalls in offices and take out ads, organise promotion and then journalists interview said artists and write stories in offices. Awesome. Feel the vibes.
We're not saying there isn't any impartial, self-styled content between the front and rear covers of these bastions of urban print media. But it is marginalised to the rears and corners of these hallowed pages that are meant to cater for the community, for the local artists and nights.
Zebra issue 694, dated April 11th was thirty six pages long. 0f those thirty six pages, nineteen and a half (54%) were ads. Two and a quarter pages (6.25%) were taken up with fantastic photos of Melbourne's diverse club scene. (see Scene Watch's indepth street press photography expose from Issue 3 here.) There was one and a quarter page (3.4%) of reviews and two and three quarter pages (6.5%) of club listings of which three quarters of a page were directly attributable to ads placed in recent issues. Of the remaining content three to four pages (10%) were seemingly independent content while the remaining articles were all directly attributable to ads in the issue.
100% # 1059 from the same week was twenty eight pages long. Eighteen and a half pages (66%) were ads while three and a half pages (12.5%) were images of really beautiful people from Melbourne's aforementioned club scene. There were four half page articles (7.2%) of which two were not immediately attributable to advertisements. And finally three and a quarter pages (11.6%) of club listings. Wow.
In other words it seems hard to dispute that if you pay for an ad you'll be amply rewarded with some editorial. This was a cursory glance at ONE issue of each of these magazines, who knows what closer inspection might have revealed?
I mean I know they're free but jesus, soon they'll be all ads and pictures! Or have they, dear reader, already fallen into this murky, advertorial quagmire? So get to it... Once you get through the first seven and a half pages of ads in Zebra #694 to the half page contents listing on page 8 - (nice one) - take up the Scene Watch Advertorial Challenge.
Go forth. Be fearless. Be ruthless.
And if you come up with even one example of this – send it in and be rewarded with a DJ P-Modern mix CD!
This months poetry corner is hosted by sheik Al-Sadr. The powerfull Iraqi is the fourth son of the famous Iraqi Shia cleric, the late Grand Ayatolla Mohammad Mohammad Sadeq al-Sadr and son-in-law of Grand Ayatollah Mohammad Baqir As-Sadr. With the command of a powerfull militia - the Mahdi army - at his disposal, he recently pulled six loyal ministers out of the Iraqi parliament until a US withdrawal was well and truly on the table. He certainly is a big player in the game and Scene Watch is honoured to publish his deep, melancholy work.
Woke up today, looked at your picture just to get me started,
“The past few years have seen a spate of production genius slowly making it’s emergence from a country that has long been known for its prowess in hosting some of the best dance events in the world. It seems finally that Australia has graduated from its infancy to a full-fledged member of the production world. And no one person has been more instrumental in that graduation than perhaps our very own Bexta!”
'Spate of production genius? Who exactly? Best dance events in the world? Like what? Big Day Out? Summadaze? Jesus Christ. And Bexta??!! Don’t get me started. There isn’t enough bandwidth on this server to deal with her – she truly is beyond parody. If you don’t believe me, please check out her myspace page. And to assert that this is the musical platform upon which we graduated from infancy? I am so angry right now I am actually setting myself on fire.'
Churtin wins this months Scene Watch Quotes prize: a punch in the head. To be collected from the Scene Watch office, 250 Spencer Street Melbourne 3000.
“We are concerned that there needs to be a real effort to counter this so-called spring offensive by the Taliban. If this is successfully countered then that is going to be a major setback for them.
I don't think it's an impossible task. I think we are likely to be reasonably successful.”
'Hmmm… After failed attempts by both the Russian and the British forces in Afghani terrain in the past, private school boy Alexander Downer has the Taliban quivering in their ugg boots. In the event of becoming “reasonably successful” in countering the Taliban offensive, a certain Foreign Minister has a DJ P-Modern mix cd coming his way.'
'Next up we have a quote from Zebra’s “back page”, where, reminiscent of your typical teenage mag, there’s a “What’s hot and what’s not” section, appropriately titled “The Arse End”. In this issue (18/14/07), what lies in the “Arse Licks” end of the scale is truly an enlightening nugget of wisdom:'
Georgia Tech Massacre
'Ah… it is very reassuring that Zebra is totally pro partying and totally anti mass murder at the same time. Thankyou for dedicating thirteen words to the tragedy that shocked America. What happened was so totally Arse Lick material. Electro house rocks! But meaningless execution is totally not on! Totally!'
Know any dumb quotes? From anywhere? Send ‘em in and win a prize! email@example.com
Welcome to the Scene Watch quiz, where you can pit your wits against, well, er – yourself! Thankfully, for those of you without an arts degree, it is multiple choice, so you still can win! Of course, having an intimate knowledge of underground music, the Australian local music industry and a general knowledge of world politics, the arts and history – will not help you at all. Are you ready?
Grant Smilie is…
David Hicks is likely to receive…
LYRICS: GUESS THE ARTIST!
Now you're gone
Email your answers to firstname.lastname@example.org and be featured in the next issue of Scene Watch sporting your new prize: a DJ P-Modern matching wristband and visor, as featured in Italian Vogue Sep, 06. (And a DJPM mix CD! Seriously, you will)
Now we have the first in a series of one column from our very own columnist, in his first column, xuelt7. (Yes, the guy from our last issue)
NOTES FROM THE TABLE-TENNIS UNDERGROUND
This isn't easy for me to write. Like the rest of you out there I love table tennis passionately. Since the first time I picked up an old bat and heard the clear double 'tock' of a perfectly executed serve I was hooked. Pretty soon I was pretty good. Challenging anyone wherever there was a table near by. I'm happy to say I won more than I lost and that's not boasting, it's just how it was. It all came pretty easy: the looping spin of an unplayable slice backhand, the sheer power and deadly accuracy of my signature smash, the - you get the picture, I was no easy beat.
Other things came into my life, the usual stuff, role playing games, innovations in computer programming and web design, learning how to make a great machiato, and I guess table tennis or 'ponger' as we affectionately referred to it, faded out of the picture. Of course I still followed the global and local scene from a distance, and like the rest of my generation, had a giant photo of Miao Miao, in those crisp white shorts, just a hint of bare leg visible over the top of the table, her polo shirt stretched tight across her outrageously petite figure as she wound herself up to deliver what you just knew was going to be the most devastating of backhand smashes, and those eyes! Crossed so far they practically leapt over her nose at each other in the sheer concentration of it all.
But I wasn't playing anymore. Even at parties where a table had been set up and the drunken wannabees spilt their drinks over the second rate chipboard and I just knew no matter how much I'd had to drink, I could have cleaned up the lot of them without losing a point, even then I wasn't drawn to play. Something was missing: an element of danger, excitement, call it what you will. The thrill had gone. Those games where it felt like to lose was to die, your life - a bat of wood and rubber gripped desperately in your sweat soaked hand, utter silence but for the squeaking of shoes on lino and the sound of ragged breathing under the eternal bouncing, bouncing of the white ball, as game after game went by, no quarter asked or given, your opponents eyes glowing with the power of burning competition. That's what table tennis had been about for me and when that went my desire to keep on playing went with it.
It had been an easy ten years since the last time I picked up a bat and I wasn't counting anymore, when something happened to pique my interest, something that sounded a little exciting, that reminded me of the old days, when 'To Pong was to live and to live was to Pong', when the tension was so thick only a deft forehand slice could dissipate it, and only the good died young. I'd been at the coffee machine all morning and things weren’t going right - no matter how many I made, the long blacks kept coming out all grainy - like brown chalk, and not tasting much better either. I knocked them back all the same - it was free trade coffee and every cup spoke to me of the unalienable right of human kind, for a better life for themselves and generations as yet unborn. Still it tasted like utter shite and by the 27th cup I was ready to kill, unable to focus my eyes, twitching like an epileptic on good speed and so scattered the only sound I could make was "pock" "tock" "pock" "tock".
It was then my eyes fell upon a headline from the day before's paper, tucked just under the coffee machine to catch the sludge from each unfortunate cup I had made. My vision was so flighty from the endless coffee that it took me a few seconds to catch the full meaning, but when it did it hit me, it was like a slow motion replay of one of Miao Miao's over under slice deflect forehand backhand smashes, with the crowd rising to their feet in the background, crying out as one in a slow exultant YESSSSSS..........................
This Sunday_Panama_Ping Pong_Double or Nothing_Whatever that Means_Winner Takes All__Only the Pong Need Apply_Bring Your Own Bats_Sunset.
To Be Continued....................
Mark Bosnich, Ian Thorpe, Ben Cousins… as the list of fallen sporting heroes grows, the problem of drugs in sport continues to grab the headlines. But a new, more distressing issue lurks beneath the surface. An exclusive Scene Watch investigation reveals the new frontier: sport in drugs. Recent reports detailing well-known drug-taking DJs and promoters engaging in sporting activities have surfaced in an expose that threatens to rock the local music scene. Scene Watch obtained secretly recorded phone conversations from ASIO, allegedly between a distinguished Melbourne DJ from Prince of Wales and the manager of a local nightclub:
“Obviously we’re very concerned” says promoter Mark James, from his 2000 ft luxury yacht, “No-one wants to see this sort of thing. I’ve been in the drug and entertainment game for twenty years and I’ve never so much as heard of a friendly game of cricket – but if I do, I’ll have no problem turning them in.”