Medium Pace

Hamish Macarthur

Hello and my warmest Happy New Year wishes to you all. I trust you had a fantastic New Year's Eve and partied like it was 1999. I know I didn't.

Allow me to introduce what you are about to read: a window into a life lived in the rock 'n' roll slow to crawling lane. My name is Hamish from the band you've never heard of ' Red10 ' and I'll be your guide. In the coming months I'm going to give you a behind the scenes look into the thrilling world of the struggling indie rock band. Drawing on the continuing adventures of myself and others, occasionally changing names to protect the insipid, I will show you what you've always dreamt of seeing, but could never get close to because you had something much better to do.

Be prepared for a crazy ride of out of control rock shows played to near'empty rooms; wild backstage orgies involving a man (not me), his hand and an UNLIMITED amount of free interporn; death'defying drink and drug binges spurred by 30% off regular bar prices for performing bands and all the insane chemical joy Woolworths can provide. So strap yourselves in tight ' you never know what you might hit your head on when you fall asleep at the screen...

As we juice up the good ship Red10 and our comrades in arms in unknown bands all over this fine planet prepare themselves for another year on the front lines of the war against the jive, we need to turn our attention to the possibilities of the year ahead; a year that will no doubt be punctuated by a stunning lack of success (THRILLS!), vacant staring (SPILLS!) and long periods of inactivity (AND MENTAL ILLS). Please consider the options available to us and all other aspiring rock stars:

Option One: Enter (ahem) Australian/American/Iranian etc. Idol

The perennial question hovers: To throw caution, self respect and any shred of human decency to the wind and enter ' or not?

As I make the rounds of my less than significant existence, I encounter good folk from all walks of life. Good folk with good intentions. Good intentions often based on blissful ignorance. Said good folk often politely inquire about the development of my musical career(?).

Anything from the pitying, tentative "And how is your music going?" to "You kickin' arse!?!" Well, moderate to low arse I suppose.

After my reply and situation update that trails off unconvincingly in mid'sentence, it is sometimes suggested that we enter Australian Idol. Surely that's the best way to the top of the pile(s)? Well frankly, fucking no, but thanks for the advice. Enough has already been written about that sorry collection of consumers and cock'swallowers for me to not get into the details of why the respect of our 17 hard'won fans might be worth just a little bit more than the cost of an SMS. Besides, I don't think we, or anyone else in our situation would get along with the judges ' "Hey Dicko, you going past a hospital on the way home? Then get this stitched up ya qunt."

My advice to all musos ' NEVER!!! Even if you do triumph in the highly esteemed competition you will only win six measly months of public ridicule and ineffective hand'jobs at suburban shopping centres. You'd be better off renting some airtime and fucking a dog on Channel 31. At least then you'd still have your integrity. Scratch Option One.

Option Two: Buy Kneepads, Remove Teeth, Embrace Industry

Not such a bad idea in theory. It is frequently said that to get ahead in anything in this world it's not what you know, but who you fellate. It is also said that there's nothing wrong with this, it's how things work and sooner or later you either get busy kneeling or get busy dying. Of course one can lead to the other if you're not careful but there are also other inherent dangers. The main one being, how do you know your hard work and dental surgery is actually being focused on the right people? You might find Option Two cheaper than embracing the (drum roll and thunderclaps please) Industry with free drinks for minnows who drink quickly then leave to the next free drink extravaganza, completely missing your show; but it can be equally ineffective.

Many times after coming off stage we have been approached by people in varying states of inebriation who know people or who are people we should know. As many bands have discovered, this is all well and good on the night when you're feeling great, they're feeling great and whatever drugs they're on propel their breathless rants about how great you are and what they can do for you. However, when you then take the time to contact these drunken bastards at a later date, more often than not, the Kevin Bloody Wilson factor becomes apparent. As Sir Kev once wrote, "Half of what you hear is bull and the other half's all shit".

Therefore, scratch Option Two. You will be much better off maintaining a straightforward and honest approach in your dealings with humans and cretins alike. Even if it gets you nowhere, you'll take only good memories with you. Commonplace is the man or woman who has unnecessarily sullied their reputation and mouth. Keep in mind that most people are not twisted, megalomaniacal mouth'fuckers but are in fact pleasant, well'meaning simians ' just like us.

Option Three: The Publicity Stunt

Grabbing the attention of the public and music industry is notoriously difficult as many of us have found. Eschewing options One and Two, in order to attract some music industry attention while at the same time alerting the public to your existence as a musical entity, nothing quite beats the publicity stunt. The stunt can be a make or break tactic that has historically produced a mixed bag of results. Some very good and some, well, shit. Let's look at two...

The Carpet Stunt:
A London indie band who shall remain nameless ' thus cruelly defeating the purpose of their stunt ' once posed as workmen and stole the carpet from EMI's London offices. They were briefly touted in a hack's rag as the next biggest thing since Oasis but sadly The Fabulous didn't go onto the great things their name might suggest.

Result: A brief flicker of fame next to a Safeways ad and free carpet for all.

Conclusion: A small but no doubt highly enjoyable victory.

The Fairly Arrow Disappearance:
The Gold Coast's own Fairly Arrow had established herself playing fairly standard cover songs to fairly small audiences in fairly ordinary RSLs over a fair few years.

Then she disappeared. Fairly soon after, an enormous nationwide wo'manhunt was sparked. The media went nuts for a week or two. Running out of supplies and unable to pay for her fares anymore, Ms Arrow turned up again to say that actually she'd staged the whole thing because someone with very similar handwriting to hers had been sending her threatening letters with psychosexual allusions to her fair hair and region down there. Ms Arrow claimed the police had not given her a fair hearing or taken her very seriously at all. These fairly serious accusations turned out to be volleys of slanderous lies too, and she then disappeared off the face of the pop'culture map

Result: She lied and bore false witness against the men and women assigned by our nation to protect her, thus gaining notoriety instead of fame. A fair result.

Conclusion: A heavy loss.

And that brings us to the end of our options for the year ahead. Or does it? And which one will we choose? More importantly, which one will you choose?

The year is long and the attention span short; good luck to you all.

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