Your humble editor has been inducted into the WA Music Industry Association‘s Hall of Fame, owing to an unfortunate incident thirteen years ago involving a fanzine, much drink and eight hundred Perth music industry pigfuckers. Because sometimes, you’ve just gotta tell ’em.
My wife will never forgive me for winning one when Bon Scott didn’t.
Actual article scan here (96KB).
By the way, thanks to first Jo Hoetmer and second my mothers (plural), I have almost the complete run (still lacking #16½) of Party Fears to hand for scanning. I’ll be seeing what I can do with it in due course.
Pigfuckers. “The arthead nation will rise again!”
Ha, ha, ha. Proof, once again, that time = respectability.
Isn’t that like winning Big Brother 5?
Just think how cut you’d be, though, if John Butler HAD won.
I was out in Chirnside Park once, in my big-ass white ZJ Fairlane, enjoying The Razor’s Edge at top volume. A couple of JJJ drones in the next car, wearing John Butler Trio t-shirts, sneered at me and turned up their audio semolina.
Guess what, peeps – I have more cred in my anal hairs than you Thunderbirds ever will.
(After all, I used to date David Gerard…)
Wasn’t Bon Scott from Adelaide, though?