Nikki...you effin' legend!

I WATCH Aussie Big Brother. OK, I admit it. I mean, Helen has an excuse – she has to watch the bloody thing for work as she’s deputy editor at TV Week magazine. But what’s my excuse? Sure, I could claim that I watched Big Brother: Adults Only (before it was pulled off the air) ’cos I had to check out the tits for my work (as deputy editor at People, “Australia’s only nude celebrity magazine”). But what’s my excuse for watching the daily shows, the eviction episodes, the bloody nomination episodes?
I dunno. I guess I just have a high tolerance to shit.
It’d be one thing if the latest series was interesting, but it’s not. Ten Network’s steadfast refusal to pick any interesting contestants and stick with cocky white idiots (young, dumb and full of cum) from the same sexually hyper, intellectually dulled gene pool, season after season, infuriates me. Where’s the cultural diversity? Where are the university graduates? Where the fuck is anyone over the age of 40? And don’t try to tell me 35+ Karen and Perry – two mutton-dressed-as-lamb slappers pretending to be 19 – were suitable “older” contestants ’cos they were just as vacuous, immature and shallow as their fellow housemates.
When the only vaguely interesting person in BB06 is a gay sheep farmer (and primarily ’cos he’s queer, not ’cos he has much of a personality) – and the most interesting thing to happen was when two male contestants were kicked out of the house for sexually assaulting (turkey-slapping) a female contestant – then you know this series is seriously fucked.
Why can’t Australian Big Brother get it right, like the English version does? I’ve been watching a fair amount of their latest season via videotape (courtesy of Helen) and on the amazing www.youtube.com.
Compared to the anaemic Aussie version, UK BB07 wins hands-down when it comes to:
* The host (the witty, never-takes-anything-too-seriously Davina McCall as opposed to the fashion sense-challenged harridan that is our Gretel Killeen), AND
* Interesting housemates…primarily ’cos the English producers have no hesitation in using borderline-psychotic competitors.
Sure, one could question the morality of putting emotionally fragile folk in a stressful, unreal environment, but…well, fuck! It’s the contestants’ decision in the end, innit? If they want to fuck themselves up or come across as crazy cunts to the general public, well…then, that’s their right. Ethics aside, it makes for fascinating, unpredictable and, at times, hilarious live TV.
This season has given us tourette syndrome sufferer Pete, über-bitch Grace (who famously was kicked out with more than 85% of the public vote. On her way out, she threw a glass of water on Susie, the woman who’d nominated her for eviction, and called her “a moose”. She then acted all confused when she was vehemently booed by the live audience as she exited the house), MILF-worthy porn star Lea (who claims to have Britain’s biggest fake boobs), suicidal Shahbaz (who had to be removed from the house for his own safety) and, best of all, the one…the only…the unforgettable Nikki Grahame.



The basic facts about Nikki don’t do her justice. A 24-year-old bisexual model from Middlesex (who allegedly cheated on her lesbian lover with Babyshambles singer and Kate Moss’s on again, off again junkie lover Pete Doherty), she said before entering the house she wanted to use her BB experience as a way of catching a top-line soccer player and enjoy a Footballers’ Wives lifestyle, a la Posh and Becks.
She went into the house dressed as a Playboy bunny, but that gave viewers no inkling of what was to come.
Almost immediately, Nikki developed a reputation for violent, out-of-control tantrums – many of which took place in the BB “diary room”. Initially, I was shocked by her juvenile behaviour. I mean, screaming and crying ’cos she could only drink tap water and not bottled water? Wailing about her housemates being mean to her? Moaning about her mouth ulcers (then giving BB – and the public – a close-up view of them)?
However, after a while, the tantrums took on a surrealistic tone that made them an absolute pleasure to watch (although, clearly, not very much fun to live with on a day-to-day basis, I imagine). Was this chick for real?
Nikki’s rant against “the fucking aircon” led to the classic line that’s already been immortalised in England. Nikki stares intensely at the camera and screams/yodels, “I’m so COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sadly for me, Nikki went out in week seven when all the housemates were up for eviction. I can’t believe she went – her antics were priceless! What’s wrong with you, England?
She went out in equally spectacular fashion – she was so gob-smacked, Davina had to literally drag out her out of the house. And her post-eviction interview was possibly the most memorable I’ve ever seen.
After watching a video package of her finest tantrums, Nikki admitted she should be “straitjacketed and taken out in a wheelchair”. She also admitted her tantrums “never work” in the real world. She then started viciously slagging off fellow housemate Richard regarding the airconditioning issue, but when Davina asked her what she thought of Richard, her frown changed instantly to a big smile and she chirped, “Oh, I love Richard!” Hmmmm…talk about schizophrenic.
Anyway, just seeing these priceless glimpses of UK BB has made watching Aussie BB even harder to sit through ’cos it now seems duller than ever.
Or, as Nikki might say, “I’m so BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORED!!!!!!”
As for her bottled water obsession, UK tabloid The Mirror revealed that probably had something to do with her previous struggles with anorexia. One of her friends explained,
“When I first met Nikki she weighed about four stone...lots of anorexics have trouble with tap water, there’s the assumption it contains impurities and might make them fatter.”
So…um, that’s pretty sad. Still, don’t be too upset for Nikki – she’s soon gonna be rich and famous in celebrity-hungry England. And, quite likely, will achieve her life’s ambition to become a footballer’s wife. I just feel sorry for her future hubby.
Meanwhile, to see her in action, go to www.youtube.com and type in “nikki big brother”. You won’t regret it.

Clowning around

JERRY LEWIS's notorious uncompleted movie The Day The Clown Cried (1972) has always fascinated me. Veteran slapstick comedian plays a clown in a WW2 concentration camp? The premise screams "unmitigated disaster", which probably explains why it was never released.
Anyway, I've found a site that give the in-depth low-down on this greatest of all "never-to-be-released" cinematic masterpieces. Go to http://www.subcin.com/clowncried.html and be stunned, truly stunned, when you see what happens when massive ego clashes with monumental bad taste and lack of talent.

Greatest music video ever?

PLEASE enlighten me if I'm wrong, but I don't think I am.

I never had much time for Steve Winwood, but I gotta love Eric Prydz' take on Valerie, accompanied by this gratuitously sexy, utterly pointless, yet simply awesome vid. Sweaty, beautiful women working out in a gym. Mmmmm...

Eyeball it yourself at http://www.youtube.com/watch?search=eric+prydz&v=QhZV91xkThs.
You'll thank me afterwards.

Go Dilana!

WITH only hours to go before South African-born, Texas-based rawker Dilana Robichaux, 33, sings Ring Of Fire live on reality TV's Rock Star: Supernova, I just wanna wish the slightly psycho, tattooed'n'pierced firebrand all the luck in the world.
She's clearly the stand-out singer among the 14 remaining contestants after last week's mind-blowing, riveting performance of Nirvana's Lithium (pictured above). Whoooo! Talk about intense!
Anyway, if she doesn't crack up and wind up booting herself out of the series, I can't see how Dilana won't at least make the final three.
She has her own web site - the girl's been performing in Europe for years - so go check it out at http://www.dilanarox.com/.
That is all...for now.

CD REVIEWS: Howling Bells and Hard-Fi

OKAY, this is a strange one. The first thing I said to Helen after my initial listen to Howling Bells’ self-titled inaugural CD was how bitterly disappointed I was with the album. I felt it didn’t live up to the promise of the Low Happening CDEP that preceded it.
How quickly one’s views can change. It only took another few listens of the CD to fall utterly in love with it.
The band-formerly-known-as-Waikiki went to London a while back and re-emerged as something much, much better as Howling Bells, led by Juanita Stein’s swooping, soaring, ethereal vocals – giving the songs hints of PJ Harvey, Kristin Hersh, Siouxsie Sioux, mixed in with some vaguely country-and-western influence – and brother Joel’s brooding guitar work.
Low Happening is still the album’s high point, but there’s a lot to like about Velvet Girl and Wishing Stone, in particular.
Howling Bells could well be the best new CD of 2006.



HELEN picked up Hard-Fi’s debut CD Stars Of CCTV for next to nothing at a work sale (which is where we get most of our CDs these days). From the moment the first few bars of the infectious Cash Machine started, I instantly felt like I’d been listening to this band forever – the album connected with me like very few other CDs I’ve listened to in the past.
Every song on Stars Of CCTV is chock-full of great riffs, tremendous hooks and nifty lyrics. Middle Eastern Holiday, Move On Now (with shades of Coldplay running through it), Better Do Better, Feltham Is Singing Out and the title track are all winners. I read another review stating the UK band blend disco, punk, rock and dub – but to me it’s 21st century Britpop at its finest.
No wonder Stars Of CCTV was named 2005’s Album Of The Year by NME, Q and other mags.
If you like Arctic Monkeys, Kaiser Chiefs, Mike Skinner, Oasis and so forth, then you really should be listening to Hard-Fi.
Just don’t be put off by the CD cover, quite possibly the UGLIEST CD cover of all time.

REVIEW: Howling Bells @ The Annandale Hotel, Sydney, 6/7/06

SOMETIMES…no, make that very rarely, I feel like I’ve been touched by greatness. Or, in another cliché, that I’ve been witness to the start of something truly amazing.
That’s how I felt when Helen and I saw Howling Bells live at Sydney’s Annandale Hotel on Thursday, July 6, 2006 (I want to write that date for posterity, so I can tell my kid that one day, his mum and dad were THERE, MAN! when Howling Bells became THE NEXT BIG THING).
This was an awesome show – there were two support bands, but we weren’t interested in seeing them, so we rocked up to the pub after they’d finished at around 10pm. The place was packed and the air was thick with humidity and anticipation.
Most folk in the crowd had come specifically to see the London-based Bells return in triumph to their home turf for their only Sydney gig on the heels of the release of their self-titled first CD.
Others…hadn’t. Which is why there were punters all round Helen and me chatting throughout the Bells’ set. Jeez, I hate that (and it reminds me why I placed a self-imposed ban on us attending any more live gigs since that disastrous PJ Harvey gig a few years back…a ban only broken on July 6 to see the Bells). Still, that’s what you get when you only pay 15 bux to see a band – it’s not like everyone in the pub’s there to see ’em.
Anyway, I was able to zone out the chattering fuckers and be completely enthralled as Howling Bells performed a tight 45-minute set, which is the way things should be – no mucking about. Charismatic lead singer Juanita Stein dominated proceedings – her stage presence is incredible even though she interacts very little with the crowd.
The final song of the night was the combo’s best song, Low Happening (as to be expected – nay, demanded – going by the murmurings from people near us).
After that, the band went off and the lights came on. No encore. Just a lean, mean, take-your-breath-away set of eerie beauty and power.
Howling Bells – I saw them at their beginning. Now it’s time for you lot to jump on the bandwagon.

REVIEW: Unbelievably Bad #3

I DON’T have any past copies of Unbelievably Bad in my possession – that’s ’cos despite the fact it’s quite probably the best-written zine produced in this country, it usually covers bands that don’t particularly interest me.
So I read UB, then pass it on to other people who I KNOW will enjoy it even more than I do (it’s the same reason why I have hardly any copies of PEE and Long Gone Loser in my possession).
But I can tell you this: I’m hanging onto Unbelievably Bad #3.
The latest issue reached Chez BP on Monday and I had a proper flick through it today. When did I realise this ish was a personal Dann Lennard keeper? Probably page 11 where there’s a serious discussion on the artistic merits of Angus McDeth. Angus McDeth? Holy fuck! I haven’t heard that name in 12 years!
After that, it was one good piece after another:
* The best Little Richard album covers ever (pretty damn freaky)
* Overlooked-but-classic punk tracks (including The Village People’s Food Fight!!)
* A cartoon tribute to You Am I (and, yeah, I think they’re unfairly bagged by indy music wankers, too)
* Part one of an interview with 80s garage rockers The Mummies
* Interviews with Dead Kennedys’ East Bay Ray and Klaus Flouride dealing with their legal dust-ups with Jello Biafra (a quick Jello anecdote: when he toured Australia in the mid-90s, he visited a mutual acquaintance’s music store in Adelaide and bought a copy of MY zine. Turns out BP was the ONLY zine Mr Biafra bought while down-under. So that’s pretty cool, even if he’s become a bit of a corporate tool in his old age), AND
* A profile on Jo-Jo, The Dog-Faced Boy.
There’s also a ton of other stuff on The Hard-Ons, Refused, Herschell Gordon Lewis, Cosmic Psychos and (need I say) much much more, but that stuff didn’t interest me as much. It may interest you, though.
As an added bonus, UB includes Unbelievably Shocking Too, a CD compilation of some hellishly good bands. Personal faves of mine were Dear John, what I assume is Motorhank’s tribute to John Holmes, and The Sailors’ Slam Dunk The Funk.
You know…YOU KNOW…you have to buy this zine.
$5, A4, 84 pages, B&W (colour covers). Write to Unbelievably Bad, c/- Von Helle, 10 Unwin Street, Bexley, NSW, 2207, AUSTRALIA or e-mail him at unbelievablybad@optusnet.com.au.

Feel The Wraith

SOME people create a comic, others write a book or make a movie. But it takes real guts, vision and determination to do all three!
But that’s what Wollongong-based writer Frank Dirscherl – together with a bunch of equally talented collaborators – has done with his original pulp superhero character The Wraith.
First conceived by Frank in 1998, the virtuous protector of Metro City is part-Batman, part-The Shadow and all triffic as he takes on the villainous might of crimelord Robert Latham (no relation to Mark, I assume) and super-scumbags like The Cobra.
Over the past few years, the talented writer’s produced
* A short novel The Wraith (in hardcover and paperback) – not bad, but not great
* Two comics (so far issue #0 and #1 have been published through his own company Trinity Comics), AND
* A short low-budget flick titled The Wraith: Eyes Of Judgment, filmed in the USA, which was recently released as a two-disc DVD with tons of cool extras.
Sure, the film’s kinda sucky, but name me a no-budget flick that isn’t. At least, the special effects are kinda cool.

Frank followed up the DVD with another book, The Wraith: Eyes Of Judgment – The Official Script Book & Movie Guide!
What’s next for Frank and his “Dread Avenger Of The Underworld”? Would ya believe…action figures?
For more info on The Wraith and how to order the books, comics or DVD, head to www.the-wraith.com and support Aussie superheroes!

An interesting perspective...

I HAVEa great deal of respect for film critic Roger Ebert - hey, Vince Gallo hates him, which is good enough for me - so I found his look back at Kubrick's The Shining really fascinating.
Check it out: http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20060618/REVIEWS08/606180302

How cool is that?

I GOT to interview Ric Flair last Friday.

Let me say that once again in case you didn't hear me: I got to interview Ric Flair.

Ric freakin’ Flair! The Nature Boy! The wrestling legend! Space Mountain himself!

I spoke to Ric Flair for half an hour!!!! And he gave me a personally signed autographed copy of his autobiography (which I already had, but still...). And I had photos taken of him "beating me up". Excuse me if I lose all journalistic integrity here and start marking out like...well, um...a big fat wrestling mark.

Ric and WWE Diva Trish Stratus were in Sydney last Friday promoting August's WWE RAW SummerSlam tour of Australia. And I got the chance to interview them both for the my magazine.

More importantly, I sat down with Ric Flair, shook his hand and chatted for 30 minutes!

Holy Jesus fuck!!!!

The interviews I did with Ric and Trish - along with their photos - will appear in future issues of People magazine.

I’m a supremely happy man right now. :)

Whooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!