more james freud

 

From the Age, 27 July 1999 p. 25. 

The really interesting thing about this is the way that the Age journalist here is so uneasily snide about pop from 14-15 years earlier as an Age journalist now would never (?) be. Also, the Kylie jibe is unexpected, it's kind of the way they used to talk about Nick Cave in the early 1980s before they decided he was the most extraordinarily brilliant being of the 20th-21st century. 

The thing with putting band names in italics is also odd but whatever, they were obviously working shit out, or not. 

That Gary Numan album he mentions was so legendary, until people actually heard some of the tracks (if I recall correctly some of them were released on the reissue of Breaking Silence). Whew! By the way I literally despise Gary Numan. Throw him on the XTC pile, though I never loved GN the way I loved XTC forty years ago.  

i know where colin mcglinchey lived

So this was the reason we decided to go out east again a few days ago - it was to visit the house where the only McGlincheys in the Burwood/Blackburn/Vermont area lived in the mid-70s. If you know your pop culture you will know that Colin McGlinchey later rebranded himself James Freud and went on to have at least a couple of number one hits in Australia, and a lot of less exciting records, and did some good things, and did some less good things. He is no longer alive. This was where he grew up, apparently. 

It wasn't much of a reason to go somewhere so it was a good thing we got some other things done as well. 

altona reverie

Went to the dog beach today, at Williamstown or at Altona perhaps (or at Seaholme). Charlie went apeshit over certain dogs that came near her, who were probably expecting something immature like to 'play'. In a sense she almost did kind of play with a couple of them, in the I'm chasing you away no I'm chasing you away way, although it might easily have gone horribly wrong. Then we went and got me a large icecream (pecan and caramel, coconut and raspberry in a waffle cone) at Altona Ice, at which time C&M stood guard outside. Both at the dog beach and later I spent a li'l time with Jeremy, Narelle and Edith. All fairly laid back. Narelle lent me Rhett Hutchence's book. We also talked briefly about Freud's newie. That's Freud, James Freud. It's called 'Shaken not stirred, I believe I'll polish me a turd'. Speaking of which Charlie barked at a nice-looking charcoally-grey dog of breed indeterminate while in the water. In response, said dog just shat 6 shits into the pristine sea. His/her owner could be seen a few seconds later brandishing a plastic bag, presumably to scoop 'em all out. That's dedication. Personally I would just assume dog shit feeds the bream, or whatever gets fished out of Port Phillip Bay every day.

In truth the James Freud book is called I am the voice left from rehab. With the title and the curious lack of reference to the previous book (I am the voice left from drinking) on the back cover blurb, I initially thought it was some kind of repackage of the first. But nah, it's just the continuing Adventures of Colin McGlinchy, dinky di tales of the drunk punk Freud.