Light and Dark Review and Competition (from Issue 10)

Veteran producer Lee Coombs has been one of the most prominent names in tech funk for nearly twenty years. His pioneering sounds and styles have influenced the likes of The Chemical Brothers and Groove Armada and is admired by heavyweights such as Tiesto and Carl Cox.

Light and Dark sees Coombs continuing to make what is often described as ‘big room music.’ His bass lines are typically heavy and thumping, the riffs are relentless and the synthesizers nothing short of hypnotic. The opening tracks, despite being infectious and groovy, don’t quite leave a lasting impression. The real party begins on the title track which is a very welcome throwback to the late 80s with its perfect mixture of retro synth and clean production qualities. The album features a respectable list of guest vocalist ranging from Katherine Ellis to Seasunz, whose rap performance on ‘Not A Game’ sits perfectly with Coombs’ experimentation with mid-tempo beats.

Throughout his career Coombs has successfully reworked hits by Moby and New Order and to close his latest LP, he has redone the 80s classic ‘Rescue’ by Echo and the Bunnymen and it is truly the highlight of the record. Light and Dark is not as groundbreaking as Coombs’ early work but it manages to maintain his status as one of the premier DJ’s in the world of tech funk.

Asif Ziffer

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Naked Nation (from Issue 10)

There I was, on a Thursday morning, sipping a fresh brew and watching Kate Moss writhe about on a bed in Paris with a large bunch of roses and a pair of strong male arms protruding from off-camera. A few shots of splendidly tall heels, some lip biting, the obligatory back arch and then the reveal of the perfume bottle nestled in the silk sheets. Just another amazingly provocative perfume advertisement. Where do they come up with this? I felt like I was having my boundaries pushed and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

And then, as I sipped my tea and scrolled through the rest of the hard hitting headlines, I was overcome with the fizz of realization … I am done with this naked malarkey. Done. Yes, I thought, eating another biscuit, I am over nudity, semi nudity, oiled limbs, simulated sex, women straddling various things (household appliances, cars, Justin Timberlake) yadda yadda yadda, all in the name of ‘provocative’ advertising. Because, here’s the thing … it isn’t provocative anymore. It really isn’t. In fact, it’s expected. If you aren’t selling a rice cooker with a woman wearing nothing but an artfully placed headscarf and doing something suggestive with a grain of Arborio rice, then something’s wrong.

Quite frankly, I’m bored. I’m so bored I can’t even focus on half of what I read/see (Pixie Lott did what with her breasts? Miley Cyrus did what with a pole? Miley Cyrus is how old?) and I even switch off Britney. Every time a new fashion/beauty campaign comes out, or a pop artist releases a new video/album/perfume it’s just variations on the same theme; how much can I make it look like I’m having sex with this here model/actor, without actually having sex? How much can I look like I am challenging our puritanical perception of sex and female sexuality without actually challenging it at all?

Let me say, I don’t have a problem with nudity, or the body, or the body as a form of expression. At all. I love the fact that on most European beaches, eighty year old women get about in nothing but swimmer bottoms (I plan on being that eighty year old woman in nothing but swimmer bottoms and my wonderfully wrinkled skin); I hate prescriptive measures of femininity being pressed upon women, and the notion of bodily shame so rife in our culture. I firmly believe we need to be a little more Scandinavian and a lot less American. So it’s not sex or nudity itself I am rallying against, at all. It is the way it is used to sell an idea, under the guise of freedom and liberation that I am rallying against.

It is fed to us on the premise that it’s illicit and raunchy and forbidden. Still. Post Garden of Eden, post watershed events and people in human history that have decimated and re-set social norms, sex and the naked body aren’t served as something natural and diverse. Still. They are uniform and naughty. Still. All the bullshit about advertisements and photo shoots being celebrations of the female form, are just that. Bullshit. They are celebrations of one female form, one idea of beauty, one idea of what is sexy. All we are doing, with our editorials and ad campaigns, with our actors and popstars, is merely reinforcing the puritanical and stale idea that sex, sexuality and specifically female sexuality is uniform, naughty and ever so slightly sinful.

It would be ‘shocking’ or ‘provocative’ if you went against common archetypes of sexual attractiveness (oiled thighs, nipple stars) - like if Beyonce or Lady Gaga had hairy legs or something, or it was revealed that either one of them had pores (that would rock the Western World, everyone knows real skin doesn’t have pores/lines/spots/hairs, God).

To those creating these morsels of contemporary ‘pop culture’, you are not pushing any boundaries. You are not questioning the status quo. All you are doing is tapping into the decades old mantra of ‘sex sells’ and promoting the dangerous idea (that will plague this generation and those that succeed us) that one is solely defined by and appreciated for their sexual attractiveness (more so if they look like what they see on TV) and attitude. And you’re promoting an image of femaleness (how’s that for a university term) that isn’t real. Presenting these images on the premise they are sending a social or artistic message, are liberating women or promoting sexual and physical pride is ridiculous and insulting.

Desensitizing ourselves to sexual provocation isn’t making ourselves comfortable in our own skin. Let’s not get confused here. Raising our champagne glasses to Womaniser, Poker Face, She Wolf etc, doesn’t suddenly make us all want to love the skin we’re in. It makes us want to love the skin they’re in and lament the fact that it’s not our skin - it isn’t servicing the sisterhood in the slightest. If we’re honest with ourselves, it’s servicing the brotherhood.

Olivia Hambrett

Previously published in Trespass Magazine www.trespassmag.com

Parlez Vous Francais? (from Issue 10)

I remember Paris. A phrase I became accustomed to hearing was “c’est ta faute.” The occasional “imbécile” was thrown onto the end of it.

I arrived in Gare de Nord, Paris’ Eurostar train terminal, at 10am on New Year’s Eve. It was -10°C and foggy. A soft yellow light bordered the glass dome ceiling and exit archway. Rue de Dunkerque, the outside street, was cobblestone. I thought it was a footpath and the taxi drivers thought this warranted death by Mercedes.

“If you got killed it would have been your own fault,” one driver yelled from his window. “Where are you going?”

“Hotel Sofitel, how did you know to speak English?”

“Your hat,” he winked.

I removed my knitted beret and loaded my duffel bag and suitcase into the boot. After about fifteen minutes it began snowing, and fairy lights adorned to most roadside trees were switched on. I squealed at familiar sights - Le Arc de Triumph, Le Tour de Eiffel, Starbucks.

We arrived at the hotel by noon. It was four storeys, flush within a row of shopfronts and cafes. The driver reminded me to never leave my bags unattended. I thanked him and got out of the taxi. I heard the doors lock.

“€60” he said, as he wound his window down. I ordered him to check the meter.

“Check it yourself.”

No meter.

I waved my arms at the hotel doorman. He smiled and waved back. I waved a €5 note at him. He and two others put their red coats on and ran towards me. After an exchange of “sacrebleus,” I was told taxis which don’t have a meter operate on a fixed price basis.

“You would have known this if you read the sign,” one of the doormen pointed to the dashboard. “It is not the driver’s fault, he does not speak English.”

The driver smiled and held out his hand. I gave him my entry to the Louvre, and he released my luggage. He lit a cigarette as he was pulling out and said “c’est ta faute, imbécile.” Translation: It was your own fault, idiot.

Katarina Taurian

MACQUARIE UNI TAKES OUT AUSSIE UNI SNOW CHAMPIONSHIPS FOR 2009 (from Issue 9)

At the end of August, an elite team of 49 skiers and snowboarders from Macquarie University travelled down to Thredbo to compete at the Australian University Championship Snow Games.

This year the Macquarie University Ski and Board Club – MACALPINE - blitzed the competition, and all competitors should be congratulated on their outstanding efforts and results. With an incredible 10-medal haul, the MACALPINE team dominated their opposition. The club was awarded Overall Female team, Overall Nordic team, Overall Individual Male Snowboarder, and second Overall Male team to give the club the prestigious honour of being crowned the #1 University in Australia.

This is the first time since the early 1990's that a team other than Sydney or Melbourne Uni has taken out the Snow Games Championships. The last time that the MACALPINE team won this event was in 1985 – a year that was (for all but one of our team) well and truly before we were even born! So this is a HUGE result for the team and for the MACALPINE Club!

MACALPINE is looking forward to defending their title at Snow Games 2010 in Mt Buller.

For more information on the Club and its activities, or to find out how you can be on next year’s team, shoot us an email at macalpineclub@gmail.com or become our friend on facebook at www.facebook.com/macalpineclub

The Teddy Bears’ Picnic (from Issue 9)

I am not an economist, I am not studying business and I don’t really understand the ins and outs of the Australian and world markets. That of course means that the plethora of expert opinion on the state of the nation’s economy is only going to confuse me rather than inform me. Is there a consensus - bullish or bearish? There doesn’t seem to be any evidence that conclusively supports either side, however everyone has their opinions.

Thank God for China, our giant neighbour to the north who continues to buy our commodities, albeit in smaller quantities, the economists say. Beware our close ties to the US economy who continues to hiccough their way to recovery. Australia seems to be the piggy in the middle, the rope in a tug-of-war – not capable of inducing change ourselves in this arena we are left to feel the effects of the larger players. The best, and the worst, aspect of this middling position is that we could go either way. Will we come out as winners or losers? Will the worst aspects of the recession pass us by or are we just so far away from the rest of the world that the rolling wave of the Global Financial Crisis is just taking a little longer to hit us like a tsunami (let’s hope the giant wave runs out of some steam before it reaches our shores if this is the case).

I’ve listened to some weird stuff over the last year, however one of the favourite opinions I’ve heard from a high ranking global economist at the height of the recession hysteria was that all Aussies should buy a plot of land and a shot gun, because things were going to get very very bad and we would have to grow and hunt our own food (I kid you not). I can’t speak for the rest of you, but I’m certainly glad this prediction didn’t materialise into reality. I actually have a picture of myself petting a wild rabbit on my Facebook profile; I would hate to have to shoot the sweet thing for my dinner.

On a local scale we’re currently arguing amongst ourselves as to whether or not Australia is safely out of harms way and therefore the government’s stimulus package is no longer needed, or whether the market is pulling a sneaky on us and is planning on receding at least once more before heading on back up to comfortably positive figures. You may have seen the reports saying that unemployment held steady in August (suggesting the stimulus is no longer needed) and other stories on the unexpected fall in the latest figures for both retail sales and new housing loans (suggesting the stimulus is still needed) – these are all September stories, I’m giving you as relevant data as I can.

Speaking of relevant, I should mention that Kevin Rudd was on the ABC’s 7:30 Report on Thursday, 10th September, being rather non-committal on Australia’s economic progress. Key takeout from the interview – we’re doing much better than other world economies, but we have a lot of work to do yet (didn’t he say this last year too? I’m glad that he and his advisors are able to re-use material). However, his vagueness on the subject worries me. He has access to the same information I do, but has a raft of economists to interpret it for him and “we have a lot of work to do yet” is the best he can come with? Is this an implication that things may possibly get worse before they get better?

K-Rudd says he wants to be frank, but he’s really Kev, and all I want are answers. Should we keep frenetically alternating between saving for a rainy day and pumping money into the Australian market? When can we expect things to return to the norm? Unemployment held steady this month, but will it trend up or down in the next? Do we need to move back in with our parents (for those of us not living at home)? Can our parents even afford to let us move back in now that their super has been wiped out? Do we buy into the stock market now that everything seems so cheap, cheap, cheap? Mining stocks – I’m particularly looking in your direction.

I understand that no two economists are going to agree on the state and rate of Australia’s financial recovery, but a general sense of direction would be nice. And put it in layman’s terms, please. When I think of bulls and bears, I genuinely get the ‘Teddy Bears’ Picnic’ song in my head so technical jargon will only get lost in the lyrics. My question to the economists is this; if I go down to the woods today - will I find picnicking bears or rampaging bulls? Or perhaps I’m safer sitting at home until this all blows over.

By Therese Raft

The Death of Bart Simpson? (from Issue 9)

Sweet scented smoke fills the air.

Jeremy and his friends watch it rise.

“How did the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pay for their pizza?” the friend who likes to call himself Sid asks.

“And didn’t anyone ever notice that there were giant turtles living in New York’s sewers?” adds Christine in a slurred voice.

Jeremy shakes his head, “No, no, no…” He giggles. “You see, the Ninja Turtles were invisible to the naked eye.”

His friends look confused.

“What about April O’Neal? She could see them.”

“She wore contact lenses!” At this, they all shriek with irrepressible laughter.

Suddenly, Jeremy looks up. “How come the Simpsons are yellow?” he asks.

They all sit quietly, contemplating the Simpsons, or more specifically, Bart Simpson, an important figure of their generation.

“Maybe they all have jaundice,” Claudia, another friend, suggests.

“Yeah…” Stoned sarcasm creeps into Sid’s voice “The entire city of Springfield has jaundice.”

Christine shrugs. “Well they are based around a nuclear power plant.”

Jeremy looks sad. He sighs heavily and lights up another joint. The others stare at him with melodramatic concern.

“I miss Bart,” he tells them. “Don’t you remember when The Simpsons first came on T.V. and we were all in fourth grade?”

Claudia nods. “Yeah man, we could all relate to him, he was totally cool.”

The group fall into silence once more as they realise that while they have all grown up, got I.Ds and left school, Bart is still in fourth grade.

He is an immortal figure, trapped, in a cartoon child’s body. Perpetually left behind.

He presses himself up against the television black screen, patiently waiting for the next generation of kids to laugh at his pranks and mimic his catch-phrases.

But they are all hooked on South Park.