The Plastics - Polluting the brain.

Is it possible that South Africa has finally found a unique Indie band? Perhaps. Last week's headliner at !AE suggests that. For those of you not in the know, The Plastics are a Cape Town-based band, complete with hipster vibes unheard of in P-Town. They consist of brothers Sasha and Pascal Righini, on drums and guitar and lead vocals respectively, Karl Rohloff on bass and Arjuna Kohlstock on lead guitar. They play some eclectic indie (such as Jukebox and Caroline) with some rock n' roll influences (Dirty Dancing and Monkey Simulation come to mind) and have a super tight live act. Pascal has a voice that just sits in the music perfectly. Although I imagine they might not have been too impressed with the !AE regulars (excluding me of course), who tend to be overly large, drunk and rowdy, they seemed to enjoy themselves on stage. One thing that never ceases to surprise me is the overwhelming support bands get from the limited numbers that seem to frequent !AE. Encores are demanded. Every. Single. Time. And the same happened here. But this time I desperately wanted them to play an encore. Desperately. Maybe purely for the reason that they might decide to play my favourite Plastics' song ever, Caroline. But alas it was not to be. Despite my utter disappointment at not having heard the sultry riffs of the "ballad", the gig was pretty awesome. Although The Plastics are an immense band, oozing the indie vibes SA desperately needs, please don't go and find out more about them. We don't want another commercial "Indie" band here.

Gig rating; 8.43/10.5
Venue rating: It's !AE. Don't be silly.
Specials: Thursdays mean buy one get one free cocktails and pizza. The pizza's surprisingly good. For the only beer that matters, a Zamalec will cost you R10, a double brandy and coke (this is P-Town) will burn you R18 and it's R10 tequila. (Stay away. Trust.) These specials die at 8pm, so start the party early.

Lewe.

So life. It's quite an epic thing. It's kinda everything we do, everything we have done, everything we're going to do. So it's vaguely important. But then. Like. Why do people sell out? It's something that irks me. Why do people who know what they love, what they're passionate for, why do those same people with the huge dreams, sell out and become corporate drones? I would never say I'm an anarchist. But for real. I think a lot more people could use some serious hippie vibes when they decide to kill any creativity they may have left. Money is not everything. In fact it's not anything. For the love of money is the root of all evil. Greed, envy, lust. They can all come back to money. A false prophet of happiness and longevity. Like anti-wrinkle cream or gyms. Sometimes I really feel the world would be better off if everyone just lived healthy, self-sustained lives; giving back as much as we take, living in peace with everything. There'd be no more wars. There'd be no more poverty. Cause what are these things but states of mind that the human race has themselves created? You don't find an economy in the natural world. There's no financial crisis, or crime. All the things we are constantly complaining about would cease to exist. There would be no racism, discrimination, anger, poverty, corruption or sadness. We have everything we need right at our fingertips. Tell me, would there be pollution if making a profit wasn't the determining factor of our lives? Would there be widespread disease if we cared a little less about having perfect looking food and a little more about how healthy it keeps us? I don't think so.
It leaves us thinking, can't we all just get along?

Rough Draft #465738273 and 1

I'm sitting, watching people pass me by,

Like ants roaming round under the sky.

All hurrying up to get to what they know,

All dressed up with no place to go.

Walking in a crowd of 40 000,

Wishing there was one like me.

There are those, big and small,

Who try to be those we all see.

There are the girls with the big beehives,

Trying their best just to hide,

The fact that they aren't perfect.

Don't worry so are we.

Then comes the big afros,

Hello Oom, dis Tannie vir jou.

The true sense of original,

You find it in these individuals.

Those ones who roam,

By the corner we all wish to go.

There by the grass, against the flow,

Spend a few minutes, then you'll know.

A little ways down the road,

Are those who's load we do not know.

Hours and hours in despair,

Just be glad that you're not there.

So let me start by thanking some people...

I should probably explain. I tend to write things. Things that are sometimes ludicrous, controversial or straight-out different. Other times they're deep and meaningful. This is the exception. They can come into life in the form of songs, poems, stories, badly strung together thoughts or annoying catch phrases. So don't expect anything. Cause you will be disappointed. But read along anyway.  Cause life's no fun without some Chilled Vibes.