Sometimes a bit of doublethink goes into enjoying a great song, especially a piece of straight-from-the-gut angst. We want to believe that the track is an immediate dictation of the writer’s emotions and intent, bursting out of the speakers fully formed. I guess it’s in the interest of marketing to give that impression as well.

Truth is, when you read a novel (or watch a film, or stand-up comedy routine) you’re enjoying the product of an enormous amount of work. Not only the initial invention but constant re-writes and careful editing, pressure testing and audience feedback – the gradual process of refinement that makes art endurable.

The reason for this muttering is that we’re currently putting the ever popular ‘finishing touches’ to our own brand spanking new EP. In this case it means making the good things better and taking an axe to those poor bastards dragging the ship down.

Rock music (do people still use that term?) may not be as precise a science as film-making or as dependant on trust as comedy, but it still requires love and attention to detail, as those early Nirvana demos make clear. Imagine Teen Spirit without a fully realised chorus, or Radiohead’s Paranoid Android without the explosive bridge section (initially a totally different song). Brrrr.

Jefferson Airplane stated that, while it may take you a couple of weeks to make your first record and a couple of months to make your second, the end of the process is going to take you about three years. I really hope not, and you have my word that as soon as this thing is ready we’ll let you know.

I also just realised that ‘finishing touches’ sounds a bit porny. If you found this through a misguided Google search, better luck next time.

The Beards and The Stiffys, we salute you. Thanks for a great couple of gigs, you wonderful, wonderful men.

The Beards – You should consider having sex with a bearded man

The Stiffys – Pa Pa Pa Penis

While you’re at it, don’t forget that you can listen to other material here.

Thanks to Nick La Rosa and Lily So from theorangepress.net for helping to put together such an amazing festival!

All images courtesy of Lily So at theorangepress.net

In the mean time, we’re playing at Peats Ridge towards the end December, so if you’ve got tickets make sure to check us out! If you don’t, don’t despair, ’cause it looks like we might be steaming it live to youtube, somehow. Probably with tubes? Anyway, we’ll be posting, like maybe 6 or 7 links to that when the time comes so you couldn’t miss it, if and when it eventuates.

Otherwise, keep your eyes peeled (literally, like actually peel them) for more Enola Fall posts, dates and shenanigans in the lead up to the EP, there might even be some secret (and most likely, silly) goodies up here or over at the FB page some time soon to get you all excited…

I’ll say no more for now !<_<

Having recently moved there from Tasmania I still had a lingering Australian accent (something that has now reversed itself, leading everyone to think I’m trying to be Hugh Grant). This prompted the question of where I was from… immediately followed by why I was pretending to be from a made-up cartoon land.

See, Tasmania is mostly famous outside of Australasia as a Warner Brothers cartoon show starring a incredibly innacurately caricatured Tasmanian Devil. It honestly never occured to these kids that the show was based (kind of) on a real animal from a real place. Every time I met anyone, I had to take them to the library and show them the atlas. “Look, there it is! The little island, underneath the big one”

It’s a strange job, trying to tell people about your band, when your band is from such an obscure place. (having a name as needlessly strange as ours is a handicap too) Youtube comments for our videos usually take the form of “Wow! This band is from Tanzania? Crazy!” and interviews tend to focus on the island, and what we’re still doing here.

I recently did an interview with a regional US radio station… the interviewer got one question past “what does the name mean?” before asking me if we were all cannibals in Tasmania.

I’m not remotely patriotic, nor am I ‘proud’ to be from this place in any way, but I put the phone down there and then. More out of irritation than anything else. No we’re not cannibals, nor do we have two heads, nor do we ride to work in kangaroos.

It’s where we live, and it means that when we tour, we do it by plane. And that’s pretty much it.

Joe, Stan, and a mysterious white shroud…

Hope the rest of the tour is just as fun