Greetings from Tamworth country rock and roll dudeparts, Here it is of course, hot as Humpty Doo but here in hell we are happy. Two gigs down and four to go. Apologies for the distinct lack of Viscera newsletters but my computer has been destroyed by multitudinous vicious fucking astro-bugs along with my address book so you’ll have to make do with this.
We are seasoned 05 festival veterans already after our shows at Woodford where in the Blues tent we preceded the inimitable Xavier Rudd, whose five crew swarming over the stage the minute the last note of Bye Bye Byron Bay shimmered in the air taking an hour to set up his noseflute ensemble were largely ignored by us gaping at the massive crowd he had attracted who were thereby exposed to country rock and roll fury and heaps of them are now new fans buying up our festival shop stock and making us rich men. Or somebody rich after we’ve paid off all our debts. At any rate we had enough to invest in extraordinary hangovers so that our early morning departure to Tamworth for New years Eve was brutally hungover and the long, broiling drive suitably tortuous. Fortunately Savvy D, now no longer publican of the City Tavern but still our very great friend was on hand to let us swim in his pool and recline in his leather armchairs after the show.
Now back in Tamworth we preceded the mighty Blues Cowboys on stage last night and are lying around in various states of decomposition at Swoop Owly Owl’s place even as we speak. The crowds are building up and by midweek it should be huge here. Yesterday Leigh and I played with Gibbo and the City Tavern has been generally a hotbed of Coalface action, with COs (Coalface Operators) from the Toe Sucking cowgirls, Red hot Poker Dots, Detonators, Gatorbait, Barramundis, Blues Cowboys, Jimmy Willing’s Real Gone Hickups, Rob Luckey, abloke who looks exactly like Charlie Owen without the debonair dressage etc converging to discuss the latest in mining techniques.
After it’s all over we’re heading south, to Albury where on Invasion day, Jan 26 we play on the banks of the Murray for the Mad Hatter regatta, which is a childhood recurring dream for me cos in the days of yore we used to line the banks pegging flour, eggs and bottles full of recently decanted urine at drunken crews on motley rafts sliding down the river. Now of course its alcohol free and you gotta have your public liability before you get out of bed in case you spill tea on your trousers and are sued for indecent talk. Anyway it’ll be fun to play in my home town.

After that we drive to Canberra to play the Holy Grail in Kingston on the 27th. I’ve been assured it’s a good venue and maybe we can get in a drive-by flourbomb on Li’l J Howard before the show.

Back to Sydney on the 28th where we play with the Toe Sucking Cowgirls at the Empire of Annandale. They’re launching their new cd and we’re taking the opportunity to also officially launch our EP Burnin’ Daylight on the night.

Sunday arvo we play the Botany View again. always a rousing knees-up and a fitting round-up to a long hot summer.

We’ve got a couple of weeks off after that before we head to the Gollan in Lismore again but I can’t remember the date offhand so I’ll post it later.
Salut!

Country dub has taken the world of art/noise/geeks by storm. At the Unsound festival in Wagga last Friday, the Re-mains newest experimental artform, based on the Phantom Loop Effect and the eerie parallels between country and dub lilts, proved highly successful and emblazoned the name of CR’N'R across a hole new and unlikely set of punter’s brains. More to come …

Greetings coalface connoiseurs,

This, my first missive for some time, comes at a conspicious, congruent and critically concatenatious time for the Re-mains, whose travails and triumphs at the Coalface have been considerable since last we spoke.

Since that time, which I believe was just after receiving confirmation of our rural touring grant, we’ve been flat out coming to grips with burdensome bureaucracy in the form of insurance companies and various other office-bound brutes which, with the gallant guiding hand of Ms Sarah Cumming Last, we were able to overcome and set out on the road in a Coaster bus, insured for 10 million bucks. We accordingly played in a vast assortment of rural venues in order to satisfy the requirements of the Australia Council and our own odd prevarications.
At Uralla we performed an intimate acoustic show in the bar to the delight of several surprised punters, two unidentified miscreants misplacing their amplifiers and the PA respectively.

The following night at the indomitable City Tavern we let rip with a suitably Tamworth performance, the details of which have escaped my amesiac brain but I’m sure it was spectacular.

At the Nymagee Festival the usually parched and barren paddocks were overflowing with green owing to the three inches that bucketted down the night before we got there. At this remote yet idyllic festival we joined forces with some other notoious coalface operators, namely the Toe Sucking Cowgirls, Tonchi, Campbell the Swaggie and other assorted compadres and for three days let rip with authentic country rock’n'roll which they’ll be talking about out there for generations to come.

After that we headed south to the Cowra Hotel, where, bolstered by Big Shane the Shearer’s urgings, we held forth and were regaled in turn by the usual onstage fisticuffs, fancy-pants dancing and unstinted gibberish. Thence to the Lass O’Gowrie in Newcastle, where with the Australian Beefweek Show, with whom I served a country rock’n'roll apprenticeship a few scant years ago, we played to a packed audience of flabbergasted Novacastrians. Next day, Beefweek came with us to sydney, where on Election night we attempted to keep our spirits up in the face of the impending Facist Victory and somehow got through this horrible night with the help also of the mighty SC Trash.

Sunday night was a historic occasion for two reasons. First is that we blew up the Coaster motor that day and second, we played the Grand Junction, Maitland for the first time. Now this gig, ladies and gentlemen, is, apart from the City Tavern, the coalface gig . Here abound true country rock’n'roll specimens in this, the spirtual and actual home of Johnny Greens Blues Cowboys and, with Johnny himself having a red-hot go at the bar, we put on the show of the tour, recieved four bellowing, unbelievably imperative encores and then, with the bus in tatters, were treated to an unholy shebang at Johnny’s house, where the Blues Cowboys very own Ezra distinguished himself with a flagon of port and his hair-raising escapades involving horses, barbed wire fences and a whole lotta turf.
After that, to complete the tour we headed out to Bingara, where we played behind the pool table on the smallest stage in history, abetted by the Maitland Ladies choir and in the absence of John from Bingara, who didn’t show up. Thence to Gunnedah, where we played to some frenetically excited teenagers and Wardy demonstrated to Shaun the noble art of carpet chiropractery.

After that it was a mere few thousand miles out to Hay for some workshops with a bunch of talented teenagers and then the long trek home to Moree and possibly, the worst show of the tour. Fortunately the audience were too blind too notice and told us we were fargen legends etc.

Incidentally, as part of all this carry-on, we have produced a new EP called Burnin’ Daylight, out through Croxton again, which we’re selling at gigs or you can send us $17 bucks for, to 214 Kings Rd federal NSW 2480, cheques to The Re-mains. It’s got seven tunes, including two live to airs at Darwin ABC. It’s pretty good, if in a less rambunctious vein than Thank You … and a fair precursor to Field Conditions, due in January, which is shaping up to be a monster.
That’s enough from me tonight. Keep an eye on the website for more gig updates. We’re in Wagga next week for the Unsound Festival and a gig at the William farrer, maybe the Gollan, Lismore on Nov 26, and a wedding at Bangalow on Nov 27. Cairns at Johnno’s Blues Bar from Dec 8-12 and then Woodford Folk Fest from Dec 27 to 30. City tav, Tamworth for New Years Eve and then of course again for the Country Music Fest.

Albury at the Mad Hatter regatta on Invasion Day, Jan 26 …

Out.

Hiya kids, Fresh outta Tamworth, after seven apocalyptic shows at the City Tavern, one at the Maton Bigtop and an Invasion Day special at the Billinudgel Pub, we’re happily home at last.

The City Tav was up 100% on its takings from last year most nights, which indicates that the towering juggernaut of country rock’n'roll is not only out of control, teetering with the speed wobbles towards certain insurrection, but that it’s gonna make somebody a good husband. Yessiree, we broke more banjo strings and landspeed records for the Bush Turkey Breakout than any bluegrass combination in recorded history, and as John Butler will attest, a bird in the dreads is worth two in the doof. What the f***ck am I going on about? Well you try writing while your kelpie keeps depositing half a chewed tennis ball on your lap, demanding that you hurl it.
Incidentally, I’ve censored that word above because undoctored swear words sent to anyone on a government address mean you get sent the email back with a prudish little Howardian admonishment. And there are a few on the Viscera.

What it means is that Tamworth was a roaring success and we earned a sh***load of new fans, sold all our cds, made some great connections with the Toe Sucking Cowgirls, and boys, the Red Hot Poker Dots, Fuellers, PLoughboys and many others. The gigs were all great, especially the last two on Friday and Saturday, and we roadtested a bunch of new songs.

On the Maton stage, Leigh and I were sandwiched between Normie Rowe, Barnesy, Ross Wilson, Adam Brand, Shereen (busty cowgirl) and various other luminaries.
Barnesy was most entertaining, bustling about backstage being jovial, concocting throat remedies and making strange warm-up squawks in his distinctive Becks-mohawk.
On Monday morning Nachos, Rocky, (aka Junior Burns) and myself (travelling under the new monicker BB Lantana - BB standing for Bulk Billing), hurtled homeward carting our new piano and made it two hours late to play the Tamworth comes to Billinudgel Festival to a rapturous crowd in the beergarden, followed by Townsville’s great Barramundi Bros, who gave us some mangoes for trying so hard.

Brandy is the official drink of the Re-mains. It tastes good and it gets you going when your a little slow. It sees you through a gig, gives you amazing amounts of bravado - it makes you straddle your fallen band mates on-stage. It lets you dance enlessly to other bands on the bill. It enables you to guest star and endlessly solo with your peers. It helps you sleep on the ground outside and it makes you evaluate your life the next day.

Great stuff.