The Thousands

Three of our wishes came true this week, guess which ones.

Please let Jennifer Higgie respond to our email Q&A. Bringeth my lemon tree back to life. For once can they just show Satanic movies at Long Play? They better have Segways on this winery tour. What this town needs is a burrito place.

Covershot by Jemimah Gray. Be deadly like Jemimah! Send covers to melbourne.photo@thethousands.com.au.

You eat enough sandwiches eventually you make your own goddamn sandwich. Rohan Bell-Towers has been making musical sandwiches all over the scene at his monthly Bamboo Musik parties and meatball sub, curveball mixes like the recent Il Mentalo in collaboration with Misha from PAM. Now he's practically a one-man N. Lee.

His first 12" is jacking and purposeful. Early house and techno references abound but it's no homage. 'Scavengers' is full of scattershot 808 snare hits and rimshots, thick bass and bell-tone synth lines. Acid gamelan. The dub is all bass wonkier than Willy, fizzing synth and strangled string lines bobbing above it.

This isn't somebody firing up Ableton for the first time and throwing together a couple of loops. This is detailed and assured. Though that's not going to surprise anyone. Listen to the promo mix and buy it from Piccadilly Records, Juno or Boomkat.

Among the host of things the world can thank Cash Money for (Birdman’s squawk, Weez’s tatts, ‘Project Bitch’) is bringing bounce further into the rap mainstream. The uniquely Nawlins sound has influenced southern rap widely, but the city itself maintains the core bounce scene. One of its major proponents is Big Freedia - the undisputed Queen DIva of bounce.

Freedia’s a sissy bounce artist – cross dressing party rap. Emphasis on party. The NY Times last year put out a solid profile of the scene. On Friday, Big Freedia will play at the Grouse 4th Birthday party with Macromantics.

To get errybody amped to shake so much ass they feel it back in Louisiana, Big Freedia put together a mini mix for us. Tracklist below:

1. Big Freedia - 'Na Who Mad'
2. Katey Red - 'Where Da Melph At?'
3. Lil' Wayne feat. Drake - 'She Will'
4. Young Jeezy - 'Hoodstar'
5. Beyonce - 'Best Thing I Never Had'

WIN: We have a dbl pass to give away! To enter email us with the subject 'Stalkin' yo man, you betta believa'.  read more

Jesse Pollock has published art books by photographer Sandy Kim, illustrator Jay Howell, oh and his dad. But his father is Arthur Pollock, a long-time Boston Herald news photographer whose style has been compared to the gritty reportage popularised by Weegee in the 1940s - capturing normal people in everyday situations.

You can almost hear the Boston accents of the subjects, but the feelings the images evoke are universal - arresting and familiar. A smiling cop stands over a dead body, a young women sunbathes next to an old school 'ghetto blaster' and a young kid walks down what seems to be the middle of a highway. In true photojournalist style each shot tells a story, yet they seem too good for a newspaper.

One image in particular blew my mind. Two black schoolgirls clutching books to their chest stand over the open casket of a white priest. Only the girls are looking over his body into the distance. The contrast in colour and emotion as well as the mystery of the situation is captivating and, like all good art, stays with you after the book has closed or the gallery emptied.

If you’re a fan of experimental film (or octogenarians with 'LUCIFER' tattooed across their chests) and are yet to get into Kenneth Anger, then this night of screenings organised by film buff Jason James gives you the opportunity to do just that. As a Theremin-playing Thelemite who'd happily organise a cake stall for the Church of Satan, Anger’s dialogue-free short films have become a huge influence on directors such as Scorcese, Lynch and Matthew Barney. He firmly believes “Lucifer is the patron saint of the visual arts,” - which, if you’ve ever sat through Nutty Professor II: The Klumps, you’ll know is fairly obvious - but Anger’s filmography really rams that point home.

Take Lucifer Rising, with its unsettling soundtrack by murderous Manson Family associate Bobby Beausoleil and depictions of pagan rituals - there’s little chance of it being mistaken for a Narnia-style paean to Christian Godliness. Even his films not directly about Satanic rites still fizz with malevolence; Scorpio Rising, ostensibly a celebration of 1950s rock n’ roll, has enough chaotically edited footage of gay bikers and Hitler memorabilia (plus a gang-member having a bottle of mustard emptied onto his naked groin) to put it as far from Hairspray as you’re likely to get.

This, then, is the screening to go to for heavy-to-industrial Occult symbolism and ominous goings-on - and might be a good way to avoid an Anger Curse on your mortal soul.

Jennifer Higgie! Co-editor of frieze! The best art magazine. Giving a talk about the best topic. Art jokes of the 20th century and why no-one laughs at them. Mind you I wasn't laughing when she didn't reply to my email Q&A this week. But the last laugh will be on her, because I'll be that lady who gets up at the end of her talk and ruins the vibe with lengthy enquiries. Here they are:

One of my favourite columns in frieze is 'From The Mailbox', where you publish inappropriate art press releases. For instance, from last month: "Dear frieze, The armadillo never imagined that after its fatal death his body was going to be picked up by [artist name omitted] taken to a crematorium and then to a lab where diamonds are manufactured from the ashes of an individual's 'loved one'." Do people ever get upset that there's such a funny column in a magazine that's supposed to be about Art?

Shane Danielsen once said, on the Guardian's art and design blog, that "we are trained, both as viewers and as consumers, to accept only the grave and magisterial as great." Who is providing this training? And are they accredited?

Is Jeff Koons serious?

So I was coddling my coddled egg at Pope Joan this morning and in comes this wagon. I'm like, "Matt, who let the carnies in?" He was like, "I did." TheSuperCool is Kate Vandemeer’s travelling collection of designer, non-designer and vintage goods. Now you may have thought TheSuperCool was at Melbourne Central. And you should think that because it was true. But Melbourne Central was destination one and from today Pope Joan is destination two. And so I think you know why we are excited about this now.

I think TheSuperCool travelling emporium is particularly useful at this time of year for two reasons: buying gifts for people and fixing up your home/apartment in time for any Christmas entertainment you might be doing. For example if you need or want to give someone a giant 'money' bag to put laundry in, wooden test tube racks, crinkly cups made out of glass or a felt pennant that says '2nd best', well, Kate's got you covered.

I recently fucked up a lemon tree. I planted it, I watered it, I fed it. It's not like I snapped off its branches or set it on fire, but this happened. Gross! I'm pretty sure I would be making lemonade by now if I was a member of the Diggers Club.

The Diggers Club is for keen gardeners and those 'just starting out' like me (read: prone to kill). A yearly membership is guaranteed to give greener fingers - the best thing you could give this Christmas. Members get eight packets of free seeds a year, up to 30% discount on plants and seeds, six seasonal magazines full of products and helpful advice, and free entry to the Diggers Club gardens at Heronswood and St Erth. Heirloom and rare plants are the Diggers Club's specialty. Things with weird colours: purple asparagus, green tomatoes, black radishes. Things with great names: moon and stars watermelons, crookneck pumpkins, lazy housewife beans. All of these things will be the envy of gardens and dinner tables everywhere.

This year they're also throwing in a free calendar. Big poop, I know you are thinking. But this is not just any garden-themed annual. It ties in with the Diggers Club authority on planting fruit and vegetables in Australia, The Australian Fruit and Vegetable Garden. Each month comes with tips on what to plant whether you live somewhere 'cool' (Ballarat), 'warm' (Melbourne) or 'hot' (Perth).

To understand why Riot Grrrl mattered, you need to know that '80s punk and hardcore shows were a major sausage fest. Mostly male bands played to mosh pits full of middle class white dudes with shaved heads. Girls stuck to the sidelines, and for an 'alternative' scene, it was distressingly misogynistic, homophobic, and even racist.

Kerri Koch's documentary Don't Need You shows how Riot Grrrls disrupted the patriarchy of punk, forming their own bands, starting their own record labels, running live music venues, and making zines, all with a pro-girl attitude and a variety of female perspectives. Their antics made audiences think about gender, from telling guys to move to the back of the audience so the girls could be up front for once, to charging entry fees of "$3 for boys, $2 for girls or boys who come wearing a bra". The effect they had is still palpable in Ian Mackaye's inability to describe just how awesome it was the first time he saw Kathleen Hanna's Bikini Kill. Ian and Kathleen feature prominently alongside Allison Wolfe (Bratmobile), Corin Tucker (Heavens To Betsy / Sleater-Kinney), and many more.

It's disheartening to watch how the mainstream media portrayed the movement as a group of trendy, grudge-toting man haters. And it's a bummer to think now about how rampant misogyny still is in other creative arenas (read Tina Fey's Bossypants or the New Yorker's Anna Faris article, 'Funny Like a Guy'). Recommended viewing for both girls and boys.

Jam sessions are events where musicians come together to show off in front of each other (read: masturbation contests). Old-timey jam sessions are different. There is as much listening as there is playing. There are no puffed-out chests, only hunched-over shoulders. It’s a cooperative effort instead (read: circle jerk).

This uncompetitive spirit is the reason why the old-timey jam sessions at the Lomond are as tight as an old man’s anti-embolism stockings, despite consisting of unrehearsed, word-of-mouth musicians. Every Saturday night, they put aside a few chairs at the Brunswick pub and pull out their fiddles, banjos, guitars, harmonicas, double basses, mandolins and ukuleles (did I forget to mention the washboards? Good, I meant to). While their slowed-down hoedowns lack the propulsion of bluegrass (that racket is too avant garde), these old-timers can still get it up. Anyone is welcome to join in but if you can’t keep up with their energy and drive, leave your instrument in its case and keep your eyes on your feet. Them feet be tapping, boy. Them feet ain't got no choice.

All of the tunes follow a two-part structure: a “coarse” section (rhythmic) followed by a “fine” section (melodic). It is the natural flow between these two parts that gives the music its perpetual rolling feel. As a result, the old-timers will often repeat the same tune for over half an hour without even noticing. This is a testament to the hypnotic power of old-timey music. It is also an early sign of dementia.

Aside from their comedic value, I’ve never been entirely sure why Segways exist. I can now say, after having spent two joyful hours bumping about Victorian wine country on one, I’m still no closer to understanding why they exist. But I’m glad they do.

The day began with a fear-mongering instructional video that comes packaged with every new Segway. It had flash animations detailing the critical injuries you would receive if you didn’t dismount it properly (or attempted some kind of extreme descent) but stopped short of mentioning that the man who recently purchased the Segway company apparently died riding a Segway. Then it was time for our fearless instructor James (James had a ponytail and could handle a Segway like it was an extension of his soul) to tell us what was what. He explained the ‘Five Cs of Segwaying’ (Cautious, Capable, Confident, Cocky and CASUALTY), equipped us with dorky helmets and vests then set us free to zoom upright towards the horizon.

Because I’m pretty extreme and my girlfriend was there to impress, I soon advanced to the fourth C. Needless to say, it wasn’t long before I ate shit (or at least a big puddle that smelt like shit). This proved falling off a Segway is as much fun as, if not more fun than riding one. Other highlights included the young girl who rode down a ditch into a blackberry bush, and seeing a bunny.

Taco it from me, it’s a war out there. The streets are set to run bloody with burrito sauce as we make way for a new contender in Fitzroy’s raging taco turf war. Operating out of a wagon in the hollows of Odessa Creative Space, Living Burrito Loca is a Mexican pop-up putting on cheap and easy eats Thursdays to Sundays from December 9 until the end of January.

Under the helm of Danceteria matriarch Megan Palmer and ex-Gasometer chef Capri, expect a hangout vibe and a tight menu of chicken, fish and bean burritos, blue corn tacos and breakfast burritos. The vegan and GF options are plentiful and there’s this thing Megan invented called a Dessert Burrito. There’ll also be specials every week, such as prawn tacos and maybe a chimichanga.

Oh and they’ve rigged up an ice crusher. And coffee. Speaking of drinks, Living Burrito Loca opens this Friday with throat wetters supplied by El Jimador Tequila. Come on down and meet the current mayor of Taco Town.

After Gang Gang Dance play at the Corner on Wednesday there is an afterparty the day after. It's all thanks to Michael 'Noise In My Head' Kucyk. Brian Gegraw is playing. So too are Noise In My Head and Bum Creek DJs. The day after that, who knows. Karaoke?

Put a kiwi on it! This Portland via New Zealand trio has been making waves since they emerged onto the indie/Bandcamp world in late 2010. Playing a mix of psychy/hazy pop with some jazzy funk, Unknown Mortal Orchestra is the brainchild of Ruban Nielson, a Kiwi who moved to Portland with his band the Mint Chicks. He grabbed producer come bassist Jacob Portrait and teen prodigy Julien Ehrich on drums and was making a scene on the blog blogs soon after. This is their first trip to Australia and, along with Kurt Vile and Mudhoney, they're sure to be one of the best acts at Meredith. If you don't have a ticket my brother or sister I suggest you get along to the Toff where UMO will be ably assisted by DZ Deathrays and Electric Smile Band.

Get your watercolour pudding stuffed over three days across three floors. I can picture Tin & Ed battering down their hatches when the swarm commeth to The Nicholas Building. Canvas shopping totes barging their way up the stairs and elbowing their way into lifts to buy design and art 'goodies' from Able & Game, Dawn Tan, Emily Green, Kick & Screen, Madeleine Stamer, Monolog, Parlour Made, Shara Lambeth Designs and Rebecca Argent Millinery.

Every once in a while two days roll around when you can afford designer costume jewellery and bags and you must seize these days before the penny-pinching miser inside of you takes control of the bank accounts again.

Decorate your inner plain Jane with chains and baubles. Weigh her down with glitz enough to knuckle dust Hans Gruber. Use her legs to walk to the House of Baulch 'More Is More' Xmas Sale and use her ATM card to get cash on the way. She won't thank you for it but it will be too late!! She will be fabulous.

Let's get one thing straight. Or queer. This would still be the gig of the week without Big Freedia. That's right. Hometown pride. Shit would make one Senator Clay Davis run out of breath. The return of Macromantics after a long hiatus. Judging by this taste stepping away turned into a step up. DJs Mum and Dad (New War), Sookie Smackhouse and Amy down from Sydney. A bigger venue in Roxanne Parlour. The fourth birthday of a party so good that it makes straight people wonder why they aren't gay and gay people wonder why they aren't more gay. Speaking of hometown pride (which I did before. It's called foreshadowing, dummy), I'm not going to give you the breakdown on Big Freedia. Because you've got your ticket already, right? Instead I'm imploring you to watch The Queen Diva's videos ('Y'all Get Back Now', 'Excuse', 'Na Who Mad'), and listen to her album (Big Freedia Hitz Vol. 1) on repeat. As you've no doubt read, bounce is all about the call and response and I don't want you not responding because you're worrying about your shoes or your haircut or something. Don't make Melbourne look bad, sissy.

People are fond of commenting on the cyclical nature of music. It's no coincidence that people are also fond of unnecessarily reductive metaphors. Even if you swallow the previous conceptual pill it seems to me that those cycles are more like the ripples caused by a stone skipping on water; over time they get smaller and closer together. The upshot of which is that house producers who may have not achieved the ubiquity of your Derrick Mays and Kevin Saundersons, who may have been unfairly slept on or just chosen to eschew the spotlight are still around, still kicking and still doing good things by the time the zeitgeist gets around to rediscovering them. Sorry that turned into a dissertation but it speaks highly of Eric Lewis and Merwyn Sanders aka Virgo Four. Check out 'Take me Higher', 'It's a Crime' and 'Going Thru Life' for starters and tell me I'm wrong. Support by Noise in My Head and Magda Bytnerowicz (who contributes this mix to get you all warmed up). Blake and Tig from Two Bright Lakes are bookending affairs with the early and late sets.

Having been crooned to sleep as little ones by the Bob Marley himself, the Marley family know good sound. In an effort to carry on the still-relevant, ever-simplistic mantra of 'One Love' they're keeping the spirit of their old man alive, creating a 'movement' in the way of headphones and speakers.

All the products at The House Of Marley have been crafted using the sounds of reggae as a starting point. In short, the bass on these things is out-of-control, without a trace of even the slightest distortion. They've worked on the high pitches, too, for clean sound on either end of the sonic spectrum. Aesthetically they're about as far away from the heinous futuristic get-up you might see chumps sporting on the bus. These are very simple black and brown leather, recyclable, with a tangle-free cord and plenty of other techno-jargon-filled features you can smile-and-nod about too.

Backing up the earthy aesthetics, the Marley family use only reusable or renewable materials to make and package their products. It's times like these the glass feels half full. You can buy Marley Headphones from these stockists or if you're lucky you can win the pair of Exodus Headphones we are giving away! Over-the-ear design, 20Hz-20+kHz frequency response for clear sound reproduction, a 40-millimeter dynamic moving coil speaker drive for sound reinforcement and integrated three-button Apple controls compatible with iPod and iPhone - RRP $149.95.