Archive for July, 2010


USOMFA Tour Chapter 1: The Phenomenal Pilot

I tell ya, the tour kicked off on Thursday night to a fucking killer start. It was like something out of a movie, a whole host of shit going all wrong and fucked up, one thing after the next.

Craziest part was the accident that one of our crew members had a few hours before our plane was scheduled to take off. J-Rab heard it was one of our pilots – the poor guy got into a car accident and couldn’t fly.

So they had to get an emergency pilot to take the guy’s place which delayed our flight by 2 hours.

That pilot, the one in the accident, he has no idea what a party we had because of his accident, no idea. If I could meet that pilot, I’d fucking hug the man. I’d thank him personally for the badass time we had, a lot of which I filmed on my cell phone and am panning to cut up into a nice, shitty-quality show reel and put up for you crazy cats tomorrow.

In the meantime, here’s a clue where we wound up for the day because of that phenomenal pilot.

God bless that phenomenal pilot.

God bless his phenomenal pilot soul.



Watch for the video party people, it’ll be epic 😉



A Vision Of USOMFA

William Blake. Now there was a crazy fucking cat. The dude used to sit naked in his garden with his wife (also naked) and re-enact scenes from his favourite plays. He also used to experience intense visions in which demons spoke to him and in one famous incident, gave him a guided tour of the afterlife.



Me, I get visions too, but they’re usually after I’ve drunk the house dry and I have to resort to straining meths through bread to get a few more kicks before the police come.

Tonight at 11.30 I get in a big ‘ol steel bird and fly the fuck to America. It’s my first trip over there so my head’s been spinning with all kinds of crazy-assed scenarios, like a mental collage of every American movie I ever watched, because I have no idea what it’s going to be like.

American food. What’s it taste like? What are the people like? Fuck, what’s jet-lag like? I’ve never even experienced jet-lag, hells bells!

More than that I’m thinking about J-Rab’s family who, I’m finally going to meet after three years of dating their belter of a daughter and sister. What are they like? Will they let me drink meths in the house?

Does America even have meths?



The next post I bang out will be on American soil and I plan to stack it to the max with a whole bunch of pics so you guys can see the crazy shit me and J-Rab got up to. Keep in mind there’s a 6-hour time difference though, so I’ll be blogging from the past, hitting you with posts at all kinds of fucked-up times, that’s how we roll in America.

Too fucking crazy guys, FUCK I’m excited as a kid at Christmas.

So think of me as you’re drifting off tonight, I’ll be way up there in the clouds somewhere while you’re counting electric sheep, en route to Amsterdam for a 4-hour stop over and then straight to Logon Airport in Boston to meet the parents.

One last question before I go though – Arcade Fire, The Black Keys, The National, The Dead Weather or Kings Of Leon?

Choices, choices 😉

Later party people.



Album Review: Stone Temple Pilots

I used to like this band. Back in the 90s they had some pretty killer songs and their debut album Core (1992) was definitely one of the better albums to come out of the grunge era.



Their second and third albums were also ok, but by the time albums four and five rolled around it was pretty obvious to their rapidly diminishing fan base that whatever magic these grunge / alternative / arena rockers had back in the early 90s was pretty much dead and bloated.*

So why, I ask you, why in God’s name would you want to come back, nine years later and record another album?

There’s only one excuse to go there, and that’s if you’ve been working long and hard over those nine years to write material that really gets people sitting up and listening, material that lives up to the hype a nine year hiatus is likely to create, but did Stone Temple Pilots do that? Did they release that album?

No. They did not release that album. They released a turd instead. Another almighty stinker to remind the world that while the grunge era might have been badass while it was happening but it’s fucking over now and should be buried in the same landfill our flannel shirts ended up in.



From the opening track “Between the Lines” this album aims low and misses. How about these for brilliantly written, awe-inspiring lyrics, “Penguins don’t fly / Crocodile Sunday smile / Really love to fish / But don’t like super-fishy people”.

Even worse is the way “Between the Lines” shamelessly rips off the Nirvana classic “Stay Away” like nobody’s business. Hit play and see for yourself.



Do those two vocal lines sound a little similar to you? Yeah, that’s because at best all this album amounts to is a half-assed attempt at rehashing what other bands did much, much better back in the 90s.

One minute they sound like a bad Soundgarden cover band (“Take a Load Off”) and the next they’re banging out Blind Melon-type choruses with reckless abandon (“Fast As I Can”), but that’s not even the worst of it.

The worst of it is the track “Cinnamon” which sounds like it was written and performed by Hanson. And then to prove they can still shake things up, they end the album with the track “Samba Nova” which, as the name suggests, sounds like a samba song someone wrote after pushing two Es up his arse.



When they’re not ripping off everyone from Blind Melon to Spacehog to David Bowie (I swear the chorus line in “Dare If You Dare” is taken verbatim from the Bowie classic “All The Young Dudes”)  they’re trawling their previous albums for riffs they can regurgitate to try and make sound fresh.

The closest this album comes to producing a half-decent track is the bizarrely titled “Hickory Dichotomy” which has a certain nursery rhyme catchiness to it if you don’t mind listening to frontman Scott Weiland’s meandering pseudo-intellectual lyrics.

Like I said, I used to like this band, I really did, but I just feel that the new self-titled album is about as interesting as listening to an hour long sound effects record of traffic noise.

Final Verdict: 3/10

*10 points for anyone who sees what I did there. TEN!


Vote Slick

Any day now nominations for the SA Blog Awards 2010 will be officially opened which means over the next few weeks you can pretty much bet your ass you’ll be bombarded with posts on all your favourite blogs begging you shamelessly to vote for them in this year’s Awards.

Question you gotta ask yourself when you’re voting for all those other pricks though is “If I had to get into a barfight with 10 angry, roid-fuelled Lebanese bouncers, would this blogger have my back?”



And the answer you’ll find in most cases is no. He won’t have your back, he doesn’t care about you because all you are to him is another hit on his site. You’re just a number to him, he wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire.

I’m different from those other internet dorks. I’d piss on you! I’d piss all over you! You guys aren’t just numbers to me, you’re my imaginary internet friends and if that ain’t worth something, then I don’t know what the fuck is.

I’m gonna need a little help on this one though cause I’m going in there guns blazin’:

  • Most Humorous South African Blog
  • Best Post On A South African Blog (KLAPPING GYM BOET!)
  • Best Original Writing On A South African Blog
  • Best New Blog
  • Best Music Blog
  • Best Personal Blog and of course
  • Best South African Blog Of The Year

I’ll be honest, I’d like nothing more than to walk into that awards ceremony and walk out with an armload of awards while the rest of the blogging fraternity of this country is left standing there thinking “Who the fuck is that guy?”

Wouldn’t that be funny? Wouldn’t that be a moment straight out of a movie? Some guy with his scrapyard blogsite that he cobbled together with hardly more than a WordPress theme and a whole lot of heart goes toe to toe with all the big players out there with their sites loaded to the gills with advertisers and sponsors and actually beats them!? Wouldn’t that be fucking cool?

A vote for me is a vote for every crazy bastard out there who’s ever picked a fight with the biggest, meanest guy in the bar and won. It’s a vote for every true artist out there who’s had to shelve their dreams so they could get a crummy day job in a cubicle farm to pay their bills. It’s a vote for the guy who, no matter how many times he gets beaten down, gets back up and carries on fighting because he knows deep down that unless you’re fighting for something, you aren’t living for anything.



I’ve sweated blood for this blog, no shit. I’ve woken up early, stayed up late, made my girlfriend pretend to be dead to shoot a video about necrophilia, stolen time from work, stolen time from my friends and God knows who else to write the content that I do for this site and yeah, some of it’s crap, but some of it’s good too and correct me if I’m wrong, but we’ve had some good laughs over the last few months right?

I got this one shot to step in there outta nowhere and blow everyone, everyone the fuck away and so I’m asking you, one goddamn crazy jungle cat to the next, will you help me do that?

They haven’t officially opened the voting yet for the nominations phase, but when they do, the URL is:

Let’s show ‘em how it feels to get taken down by the undercat 😉



Monday Morning Kicks

Danny de Vito always kinda creeped me out because what the hell is he? He’s not a dwarf and he’s not a midget, he’s just a really short guy who I can’t look at without picturing the Penguin from Batman.

He’s a great actor though, I decided this on Friday night when J-Rab, Jennyjenjen (previously known as Jenni-fuh) and me invited ourselves around to Barbarian’s place after a few drinks at Trenchtown and spent the whole night watching It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia.



I don’t know if I’ve been living under a rock the past few years and after posting this a whole bunch of you are going to think I fit into the ‘laggard’ section of the adoption curve (GOD FORBID!) but seriously, I’ve never heard anyone talk about It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia and it’s the funniest fucking TV show I’ve watched since Flight of the Conchords.

The humour’s completely different though – Sunny In Philly is full of loud, shouty Americans doing insanely stupid and fucked up shit to one another that had me crying I was laughing so hard.

Think Three’s Company on crack and without the lame canned laughter. I hate canned laughter. Those are dead people laughing, did you know that? Yeah, canned laughter is recycled over and over so the next time you hear it in a sitcom, just think about that for a second. Dead people.

You know a TV show’s a winner when the episodes have titles like “Mac’s Banging The Waitress”, “Mac and Charlie Die” and “Who Pooped The Bed?”

And to top it all off they got Danny de Vito in there playing Frank Reynolds who frequently exploits and insults anyone he comes into contact with and is generally shady, unethical and pretty siff all in all.

And so I leave you with the following clip to give you a laugh on what is otherwise a mind-numbingly crap Monday.



Catch you crazy cats tomorrow.



SlickTiger Industries Presents: USOMFA Tour ‘10

Guys, some pretty earth-shattering news. Please sit down for this.

In exactly one week’s time, I’m climbing into the belly of a giant steel bird and heading for the United States Of Muthu Fukkin’ America (USOMFA) for the first time in my 26 years of being alive.

I know, crazy hey? They actually gave me a Visa, and not just any Visa, a TEN YEAR Visa motherbitches!

Even more hectic than that is the fact that after nearly 3 years of dating, I’m finally going to meet J-Rab’s parents and twin brothers. We’ll be staying with them over in the USOMFA for a full two weeks – sound like the plotline for a slapstick block-buster comedy starring Ben Stiller and Robert De Nero? You bet your ass!



While I’m over there, I’ll be launching SlickTiger Industries’ latest initiative: USOMFA Tour ‘10.

Catchy title ain’t it? Yeah, I’m pretty amazing like that.

I’ll be getting to the bottom of this crazy-ass place they call the USOMFA and really figure out what it’s all about, the people, the places, fuck, everything.

Whilst on the USOMFA Tour ‘10, you can expect in-depth interviews and profiles the likes of which have never been seen on this site before. It will be like you’re right there with me, living the life of an actual American, taking in all the sights and sounds and getting to grips with the state I’ll be visiting: Massachusetts baby!

How do I feel about the trip? Pretty damn excited. Am I nervous about meeting the parents? Hell no! I have it on good authority from one of J-Rab’s oldest friends that they’re exactly like the Weasleys from Harry Potter, so I got nothing to worry about.



This is going to be real-time, real-life, hardcore investigative citizen journalism at its very finest so yeah, just be careful reading it or your head could explode with awesome.

So if you guys have any suggestions of stuffs to check out in Massachusetts (I’ll be staying in Essex), lemme know. And if you happen to live in Essex then fer chrissakes drop a mail to and let’s hang out!*


*As long as you promise not to kidnap me and make lampshades out of my flesh


Album Review: The Black Keys – Brothers

I can’t tell you how badly I’ve been itching over the past two months to write this review. Usually if an album’s older than a month I won’t touch it because this is the internet goddamnit! If you miss something by even a week, it’s dead and buried.

I’m making an exception in this case though for one simple reason: this is an album that will go down as one of rock music’s finest and as such, it doesn’t matter if I post this review now or two years from now, this album is timeless and will sound just as good then as it does now.



There’s a universal formula that you can apply to most bands almost without fail. The first album comes out rough and ready, gets a few people talking, has one or two singles but otherwise doesn’t make much of a splash. A decent producer gets a hold of the band and turns the second album multi-platinum and suddenly they’re everyone’s favourite overnight.

By album number three, the pressure’s on. The band changes its sound, loses half its fans and spirals into a dark period of drug-fuelled loathing and embarrassing moments at awards ceremonies.

Then a few years later they bang out a couple more albums that deal largely with how they kicked the drugs, how much they love their long-suffering wives and what being a dad is like, by which stage no one really gives a rat’s ass anymore.

The Black Keys are not that band. Since their debut The Big Come Up back in 2002, they have steadily gotten better and better with each successive album, continually exploring and pushing the boundaries of the blues rock genre, picking up from where legends like Robert Johnson, Junior Kimbrough, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins and Hendrix himself left off, fine-tuning that sound and making it their own.



Right from the first few seconds of the opening track “Everlasting Love”, the foot-tappingly infectious grooves that define this album strut confidently to the fore and make it known that what you’re listening to is fucking cool, plain and simple.

The tone throughout the album is so mind-blowingly warm and authentic, it almost sounds like you’re listening to vinyl. Not only is it blues rock the way it was meant to be played but, more importantly, it’s blues rock the way it was meant to be heard.

“Next Girl” comes on big and bold, strapping its fists like a prizefighter going into a bare-knuckle brawl which, considering the song’s written about an ex-girlfriend, speaks volumes about how expertly the duo understand and handle their material.

If you’re going through a nasty break-up, there’s a good chance “Next Girl” will instantly become the best song you’ve ever heard in your life. Auerbach’s riffs tear through the rhythm section with the kind of subtle menace every man’s felt at some stage in his life when contemplating what a bitch his ex was.



It’s poetic in its simplicity “My next girl / Will be nothing like my ex girl / I made mistakes back then / I’ll never do it again.”

It’s an album that shifts gears fluidly between upbeat, big drum, fuzzy guitar riff-laden monsters like “Howlin’ For You” to slower, more sincere blues-driven tracks like “Unknown Brother” and the awesome cover of Jerry Butler’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” (not to be confused with the Rick Astley song of the same name that’s only cool because it’s crap) and somehow manages to stay solid as a rock throughout all 15 tracks.

I usually take great joy in slating the songs that piss me off on an album, even the albums that I really love, but the honest truth here is that on Brothers there are none. Auerbach and Carney keep Brothers lean and mean, which makes for a refreshing change from albums that have three great tracks and nine shit ones thrown in as pure filler.

My expectations were set high right from the start with Brothers, and it still managed to surpass them which basically never happens.


Brothers is a sure-fire winner in my books and definitely gets my vote as the best album I’ve heard this year so far. I’m leaving you with “Next Girl” for you to decide for yourself whether this album is everything I’ve hyped it up to be.

Enjoy 😉



Final Verdict: 9/10


A Word From The Kind Folks At Nokia

July 2010
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