Carl Bratcher dot Com – Page 31 – Carl Bratcher, Musician, Artist, Writer, Dreamer

06/11/2004

YAAAAAAAAARGH!!!!

What is it with these morons that have to drive up and down your street with their car stereo’s at full blast and all you can hear is ”boom boom boom” Where’s the bloody music?

You can’t call that crap music, it’s nothing but mindless drivel for the masses of mindless cretins that pass for youth these days. Granted there are some who listen to REAL MUSIC, what’s been disgustingly tagged ”classic rock” by the media, damn I even know of some that listen to Michael Buble. Can someone please explain to me what it is with this boom boom rubbish?
Can someone please explain to me how a DJ can be classed as a musician <- that one I find hysterical.
What ever happened to all the time changes or music that made you think. What ever happened to the likes of E.L.P. or King Crimson, geez even Mussorgksy (yeh I know that’s def pre-classic rock). It seems to fit in, you must be willing to wear a neck full of gold chains, hands full of gold rings, drive a bloody Cadillac with a dozen women in various states of undress in the back and spend the best part of your time talking (and I use THAT term loosely) in some incoherent babble that no-one can understand unless they’re dressed and act the same.
Okay that maybe sounding a touch over the top but I blame TV for killing music, REAL MUSIC. Now there’s a thought, The Buggles were right – Video DID Kill The Radio Star.

I was wandering the TV today looking for something to interest me on a lazy Sunday and if it wasn’t golf or the Olympics it was MTV and more of that boom boom crap – I might email my cable carrier and ask if they’ve got copies of the old Midnight Special or In Concert series locked away in a vault somewhere for us that want to watch REAL MUSO’S.

Anyway, don’t forget to buy my book 😉
Carl

07/07/2004

As Is My Want

I have a like(?) for obscure motor cars, by obscure I mean stuff everyone else dislikes 😉 so the chance to pick up a ’91 Hyundai Sonata GLS with a V6 and Auto trans, plus Air con, Power Steering, blah blah all the good stuff for five hundred bucks was too good an offer to pass up. I tell you what, those that pass these cars up even at recommended retail are mad – talk about a comfortable and quick sedan.
Anyhoo on to the nuts and bolts of it (literally). It was thought to have a blown water pump (that’s why it was so cheap), ehh no problemo NOT! I’ve got a mobile mechanic that does all my work and the grief he had to go through just to get the water pump off. Remove the Power Steering pump, an engine mount plus numerous other piddling little bits that were just to much in the way GRRRRRR – cut a long short, he sorted the water pump out, did a pressure test and we find a blown head gasket AARRGGHHHHH!!! It turns out because it had boiled (read cooked) at one stage because the previous owner was a twonk and drove it with a dicky water pump it blew not one head gasket but both so they are now sitting in a machine shop getting faced and crack tested. The odd thing is, it looks like by checking the bore that the bottom end had not long had a rebuild??? Bizarre to say the least but one hell of a bonus.

It all goes back together in a few days thankfully. Now electric windows especially on earlier cars are pretty much guaranteed to play up and this was no exception. The right rear motor was gone, an easy fix and the master switch block on the drivers door was also being a pest so I ordered one from a wreckers as I”m not overly keen on spending four hundred bucks for a new one *shudder*.
This is where it all became fun. Apparently the car I’ve got is in the middle of model change over which meant the first switch to arrive was the wrong one – then we find out the there is a different one for the 4 cylinder variant and a different one again if the indicator lenses are orange instead of clear (this is sounding well bizarre aye :-)). The wrecker finally found one in downtown Melbourne 800 miles away but at least that’s now fixed also.
It’s going to be a damn good car when it’s finished, I might post a few pics – don’t ask why, I’m just an ego-maniac 😉
Cheers
Carl

16/03/2004

Aussie, Aussie, Aussie – Oy, Oy phht?

Ooooooookay, some person trademarks a crowd yell (Aussie, Aussie, Aussie – Oy, Oy, Oy) and the country is up in arms about it (well the current affairs programs are anyway). . .
While I sit here listening to Dave Gilmour, I’ve been stewing over this trademark rubbish, and where the hell it came from (the call) in the first place. Now if anyone has ever heard of Max Boyce, you’d know where I”m going with this. I remember seeing him live in Sydney in the late 70’s – the LP I have of his here is dated ’78 (live at Maesteg) which starts off with a lead in to ”Sospan Fach” which ends with ”Oggy, Oggy, Oggy – Oy, Oy, Oy” <- where have you seen that before!!
Every sporting match I saw from the late 70’s, early 80’s had Australian crowds shouting ”Oz-zee” followed by three hearty claps, this Aussie, Aussie, Aussie thing has only been around for maybe 10 or 15 years.

Now lets do some maths. 2004 minus 10 or 15 equals 1994 and 1989 – oooookay (remembering Max Boyce and his Oggy, Oggy call), this Australian call is still like 10 or 15 years behind Max.
For clarity, I’ve emailed the man himself to find out when he started that ”Oggy, Oggy Oggy – Oy, Oy, Oy” call, if not for history sake then just for mine.

It’s like when you hear announcers announcing (yes they do that *grin*) a band as English when they actually come from Wales – take Badfinger for a start, or Budgie. It seems like that unless your name is Tom Jones you’re gunna get stiffed.
Another way they manage to avoid the countries name is by calling the person British, like say Sir Anthony Hopkins, the great British actor – ummm why not Sir Anthony Hopkins, the great WELSH actor. If he was English, they’d call him English – def not British.
Credit where credit is due yeh!
Some other famous Welsh People for you to consider:
Dylan Thomas
Roger Glover (Deep Purple) born on a farm in the Brecons (so I heard)
Badfinger
Budgie
Man
Catatonia
Richard Burton
nnahh bugger it, I could go on for hours…