Greetings, earthlings. LL Damnation here, with an update on the highly successful guerilla marketing campaign we are currently conducting for DNRC Records. You may not even realise that it’s happening, but that doesn’t mean it is. The idea stemmed from some research we did on the daveydreamnation.com portal and some highly-charged focus groups, which told us that people want more funny stuff on the site. That’s where I come in. I’m a virtual avatar of Davey’s design and Pixel Mouse’s execution. My job is to look like a complete and utter idiot. The results speak for themselves. Totally ridiculous. Marry me!
Category: Davey Dreamnation (page 4 of 31)
Davey Dreamnation (not pictured) was conceived during the playing of a Genesis L.P. in April 2001. A legend in his own signature drawstring jarmies, a colossus of lo-fidelity, a harbinger of jitches and drum fills and ‘the Skylab of his generation’, Davey describes himself as an Australasian pirate who lives in the third person, and that’s good enough for us. Davey is apparently fluent in Esperanto and enjoys ice hockey and Joy Division. Read posts from the last five or ten years, then consider for a moment a world without Davey. Sad, isn’t it?
In a move eerily and uncannily similar to Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”-era wardrobe malfunction decision, Davey Dreamnation has gone imperial and re-invented himself as a member of the aristocracy in the dying days of the reign of Louis XIV. Speaking from the drawing room of his gigantic new manor house, Little Lord Damnation confirmed both his new look and the rumours that have been circulating around Tribesco for the past few days – that he is indeed back in the recording studio, having locked himself in there during a midnight excursion to his royal larder, where he found only a couple of sandwiches and one seriously bloated llama. Speaking from the other side of the gigantic oak-pannelled door separating him from the rest of the world, LL Damnation could be heard to mutter something about “seething” and “freaking Scaramouche” before wandering off to inspect the recording studio’s facilities, which are rumoured to be analog.
Today Davey Dreamnation celebrated an important milestone – the signing up of his one hundred and first Myspace friend. Cynics will, predictably, moan that most of these so-called friends are just placeholder pages for bands both currently active (hello Bloc Party, Love of Diagrams, Sonic Youth, The Fauves, Boards of Canada, The Early Years, Silver Jews, Clint Bo Dean et al) or nostalgically non-existent (goodbye Crow, Sun Ra, Swervedriver, That Petrol Emotion, Chris de Burgh – ooh, hang on a minute).
However, cynics are well known for their lack of a sense of humour. They need to get one fast. Or else, a Myspace page of their own. Sure, there’s people out there who ascribe way too much importance to Myspace (hello everyone) but for the most part, I think most people sign on just to send silly comments to each other and also to perve on otehr peoples’ comments. Then again there are the hardliners, including UK band Wire, whose Myspace page uncompromisingly declares:
It seems like lots of you out there want to be friends with Wire which is very flattering. Your supportive comments are much appreciated! There is a lot of love out there for Wire!!!
Each of the many daily friend requests is in fact checked out because not everyone is who they say they are on MySpace. For that reason we are sorry but we cannot accept friend requests from private profiles. Wire is on MySpace because it is a public space, there is no reason why someone who wants to keep their identity private needs to connect to Wire in this way.
(emphasis mine)
I was initially nervous about submitting a friend request to such a hardcore principled band, not least because at the time my profile proudly wore its Chris de Burgh influence on its sleeve. Nevertheless, I was promptly signed up by Wire anyway, who obviously do not actually check every profile at all. I mean, how else do you end up with over 8000 friends. Just ask Howard Jones. Personally, I’m happy that I’m able to display 24 friends who are all real people.
I also like listening to music and trying to poach other peoples’ friends. That being said, I am aware that Sun Ra is dead, and that were he alive, he probably wouldn’t be into having his own Myspace page. I’m also aware that unlike Wire, most musicians don’t actually have anything to do with their Myspace page. But I ask you: how much does a musician have to do with their website, tour poster, CD packaging or whatever in the real world anyway?
Myspace: the Ultimately Me Space for Those Who I Might Not Want to Come Back to My Place.
While I’ve been sweating over the choice of promotional photo for my upcoming debut book of poetry, I’ve also been grappling with issues of artistic integrity and interrogating my own self-image, with alarming results. How do I want the world to view me? Is it possible for me to control the image I present to the world? Does anyone really care?
Cue some spectacular photographic work from my sister Francesca, who obviously has no respect for me and clearly has too much time on her hands. I’ve been looking at these pics for the past few days and laughing so hard it’s giving me a belly ache. If I was Stung, I’d be seething right now. Seething.
Who was it that said Nero fiddled while Rome burned? Well scrap that, Poindexter, coz The Police have decided to reform and are set to embark on a huge world tour, just in time for the 30th anniversary of Sting’s brain transplant. The tour is even set to include Australasia, and don’t write off the possibility of a new album just yet.
All of which has left our resident vocal coach and singer in his own right, Stung, suitably seething. In fact, he’s seething so hard at the moment that the protestors trying to ram the Japanese whaling ship/factory Nisshin Maru in the Antarctic have called off their attacks and are headed this way, presumably in order to make use of some of that seething fire power.
“If only the Sea Shepherd had rammed the Nisshin Maru during the filming of Matthew Barney’s Drawing Restraint 9 instead,” seethed the Kiwi pop iconoclast, whose bid to soundtrack the American artist’s epically unnecessary three hour film was obviously knocked back in favour of Bjork.
The announcement comes as a double blow for Stung, whose new album, Desert Boot Meets Nose, is due for release any year now. And after the success of Dream of the Blue Pipe Cleaners and Nothing Like the Stung, well, you get the idea: seething, seething, seething.
“Let’s hope Stung has enough willpower left in him to pick up the flute, turn on the Mac Davis and start playing “It’s Hard to be Humble”. Stranger things have happened,” commented an obviously bemused and slightly bloated Scaramouche.
“And who knows, this might just be the impetus for Stung to get back together with The Poultice,” added Maikiki, lead singer and spokesperson for The In Jokes.