It's a cool early-November Saturday afternoon, 2001... I'm in the main street of Hamilton waiting to meet a guy called "Spud". I play bass in a Wgtn avant-pop band and we're touring with a psych-post-rock duo from Dunedin. Tonight's the last gig and our manager has organised a live interview on "Hamilton's Rock Alternative!" The Generator FM.
Spud lets us into the studio. It's plain he doesn't want anything to do with this. He's never heard of either band and can't be fucked talking to a bunch of pussies from the city. Partway through I start to wonder if we're even going to get out alive.
The interview is appalling but we battle through and Spud finally winds up, asking us if we like any bands from Hamilton. The guys are looking at each other blankly... you can sense panic as they desperately rack their minds for a name, any name, anything with which to appease Spud and his hordes of slobbering Cro-Magnon listeners... meanwhile I'm wanting to claim "Hitler's Kock" [Bryce Galloway's old art-punk outfit] but play it safe... "I quite like The Datsuns". Spud regards me sceptically. "Cool... what's your favourite song, dude?" [read: "Bullshit, dude"] Me: "Uh, Fink for the Man, on the b-side of the Transistor seven-inch. It's the fucken best rock'n'roll I've heard since Bon Scott died".
It was like just then the sun rose in Spud's eyes. He's a changed man. As he wraps up the interview, he hypes our gig twice, and plays something from our CD which he manages to segue nicely into a track from the latest Korn album.
Of course it was all for nothing; no slobbering Cro-Mags came to the gig and no shouted requests for Slipknot songs were received. [Actually, that makes it sound like it was all worth-while!] It was a really good gig though. You can see pictures by reknowned H-town rock-groupie Petra Jane here.
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