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We've made our feelings on Sydney's North Shore known before. We admit though that there was a pretty good punk scene up there that spawned some of ourfavouriterecords; oh, and Progression Cult too. There was other stuff as well, and the leafy bush around Church Point (almost as far North as Sydney stretches) produced a strange experimental record in 1982.
The 300 press was split equally amongst the three members. Each member's 100 copies has label and sleeve designed by that individual member. We haven't seen enough copies over the years to be sure how much variation thus ensued but the three we know of are pretty different. Anyway, as explained in the booklet which comes with some copies, the common denominators in each copy are the bandname Gestalt, the label and catalogue number (Pyrrhic 001) and the song titles: Adventures Of A Flea, Chained To The Floor, Of This Men Will Know Nothing and Latent Doings.
The packagings are labours of love - from the 1/2 inch thick piece of foam matting above to the found photography and art here, down to the hand altered blank white labels.
The care extends to the music - analog synths, electroacoustic tape manip and so on. We're no experts on this kind of thing though it's unpleasant enough, if lacking the kind of anti-social edge we could hang our coats on.
As to the protagonists - they're unnamed. How did they come to make music like this? John Blades in his memoir speaks of the importance of Double Jay in proselytising mutant sounds. M-Squared's first half dozen releases precede this and they had decent distribution, on the East coast at least. There's a probable M Squared connection, at least by communication - MxM gets a thanks, and the the Shane in the thanks list is Shane Fahey, Gordon is probably Gordon Renouf (Slugfuckers, Wild West, M Squared engineer), and so on. The recording wasn't done at M Squared though, but at the "now demolished Roscoe St residences" - most likely in Bondi (but perhaps in Newcastle), over Easter 1981.
If you spend as much time as we do in the bins and crates then you're au fait with the basic tenets of quantum record theory. The bit which does our heads in is Schrödinger's Record Paradox, first posited by our learned colleagues over at the Corroseum. It goes like this: an unknown record found in the racks is simultaneously good and bad, until it is forced to collapse into one state or the other. We do this by putting them in our small hadron collider, a circular device where we smash industrial diamond at high speeds (45 rpm to be exact) against the vinyl, and study the results intently, looking particularly for evidence of the elusive punk particle.
So there I was, stood in The Pitt record shop in the 1990s. All of a sudden the Geiger counter in my toolbelt started going fucking ballistic. I took off my gas mask (this was a Bob Gould shop after all) and before me sat the record pictured above. Razor Gang. 1982. Crude sleeve. Military imagery. Neutron Bomb. Drawing of a razor blade. I added up the quantum probabilities in my head and easily cracked 100%. I could almost taste the Nobel Prize.
I quickly hotfooted it past the racks fronted by Danny Graham and Mopsie Beans 12"s (sadly I'm not joking), paid and rushed back to the collider, then based in Surry Hills.
Insert sad slide whistle...
To cut a long story short, my disappointment was such that until I recently pulled it out of the Wallaby Beat powerpop section, admittedly not the most visited part of the archive, this probably hadn't seen action round here for fifteen years.
With that much water under the bridge, the A-side is not too bad at all. Like the Mansons, the direct lyrics and vocals override an overly poppy backing. The "happy Hammond" does add something, though recent comparisons to The Go Betweens' People Say are gilding the turd. The flipside? Let's just say there is no New Wave section in our archive.
(All I Want For Xmas Is A) Neutron Bomb [Download]
Mick Medew had been playing in a blues band in Brisbane in the late seventies when he met New South Welshman Ronald S. Peno, who had moved to Brisbane in late 1979 at the behest of Bruce Anthon of the Survivors. The aim was to audition for The Credits, but the first rehearsal didn't work out so Peno hooked up with Tony Robertson and they grabbed Medew and eventually Chris Welsh to form the 31st. The 31st married Peno's interest in midwest and New York American rock with Medew's love for '60s punk, via a common interest in Radio Birdman and The Hitmen.
The 31st played for about a year and here it gets complicated, so hold on tight: Brad Shepherd (ex-Fun Things but at this stage post-The Aliens' final line-up) joined briefly before he and then Robertson decamped to The Hitmen. Michael O'Connor from The Apartments joined on bass and the band played a few gigs around August 1981 as Died Pretty. Peno and Medew then grabbed the rhythm section of the Fun Things and The Aliens, John Hartley and Murray Shepherd, and became The Screaming Tribesmen for a small number of shows in December 1981.
So if you learn nothing else today it's that Mick Medew was in Died Pretty and Ron Peno was in the Screaming Tribesmen. Hopefully there's a rock'n'roll pub trivia near you that you can ace with that piece of science.
Peno returned to Sydney at the end of 1981 and the "classic" three piece line-up of the Screaming Tribesmen played around Brisbane with occasional forays to Sydney up until mid-1983, recast as more of a classic '60s punk sounding band. Like other Brisbane garage bands they covered then quite obscure Australian garage - The Missing Links' Some Kinda Fun and the Black Diamonds' See The Way. American songs covered included The Starfires' I Never Loved Her, the contemporaneous Vertebrats' Left In The Dark (from Bomp's Battle Of The Garages LP), and a couple of soul songs as reinvented by the Human Beinz - The Isley Brothers' Nobody But Me and Bobby Blue Bland's Turn On Your Lovelight. The set was rounded out with originals and songs from the 31st. A live set from the time can be heard on Citadel's The Savage Beat CD.
During March 1982 the band recorded four songs at a jingle studio, Speak. In interviews from the time the band bemoaned the fact that there weren't any studios in Brisbane that could capture their sound. I guess Mungo Coats had shut up shop by this point. The sound is pretty thin, and when you hear the massive sound achieved for the next single, Igloo, recorded over 48 hours at Trafalgar in Sydney, you can sympathise with the band somewhat. 500 copies were pressed by EMI Custom and quickly sold out.
We always enjoy a band that can't even spell its own name correctly, but in this case we're not sure if we're more galled at the misspelling or the aesthetic blunder of referencing Petula Clark. Unlike previous Wallaby Beat illiterates, there's documentary evidence that Peculiar Clerk knew their way around a dictionary (see below), so we can't really blame the band itself. Perhaps lax educational standards at the EMI Custom typesetting department were at fault, but ultimately the buck stops with Tom Misner, owner of Phoenix Records (or, as he might prefer to call it, Phoenix Regords. Yes, Regords). The guy seems to cop the blame for everything else, so why not add proofreading to the list?
Peculiar Clerk formed from the ashes of Latis, a Zep/Heep/Quo cover band based in the western Sydney suburb of Blacktown. In 1979, the band ditched both its name and its heavy rock repertoire for revved up Beatles, Who and (of course) Petula Clark covers, a smattering of self-penned tunes, and the obligatory skinny ties. In lengthy self-analysis over at the Peculiar Clerk website, various members acknowledge that the arrival of punk made their former setlist obsolete, but are at pains to note that they were not a punk band themselves. All signs point to that subgenre we've come to know and tolerate, Oz Rock/powerpop, but setlist staples like the Undertones' Teenage Kicks and originals like Disco (Destroys Your Mind) show that their hearts were in the right place (though singer Peter Keen's assertion that disco sucks "starts with 's' and ends with 'k'" has us rethinking that entire first paragraph).
In 1982, two originals were recorded at Central Recorders by the then-active lineup of Keen, Rob Manego (bass), Peter Marples (guitar), and Steve Askins (drums). The resulting single, Peculiar Clerk's only release, pairs a couple of energetic powerpoppers which should get the job done nicely for fans of The Word et al., though we hasten to add that microscopic examination reveals no trace of a chorus on either side.
Peculiar Clerk folded in 1984 but not before playing an impressive double-header, performing firstly to around 30,000 people at a festival on the banks of the Parramatta River, followed by a nighttime gig at their Blacktown RSL home base. The band describes one of those venues as "a filthy cesspool" - take a tour of their website to find out which.
Two weeks ago we bemoaned the fact that so few of Sydney's class of '82 made it to vinyl of their own accord. One who did was Progression Cult who put out this one record on Method. Perhaps we didn't miss out on too much because it's hardly the best example of the UK '82 sound that came out worldwide. Nevertheless it has its moments in its mix of Crisis and Discharge (who the band covered live). But don't listen to us - the band impressed tastemakers elsewhere.
The lineup that recorded the 7" initially existed from late '81 through mid-1983. Drummer Doug Lees then left to join fictionromance and later The Snorkels with the record's producer, Fabian Byrne. Andrew Warren (later of the Hellmenn) became the new drummer and they recruited Jane on second guitar. The five piece line up lasted until November when Jane, Warren and singer Anthony Lange left to form Bedspreads. Bassist Nick Manole and guitarist Russell Jenkins swapped instruments and joined Heresy.
Systematics are good and all, but their earlier records - the Pulp Baby EP on Doublethink and the Rural 12" on M-Squared - offer little for those of us who just wanna slam in the pit. Nice of 'em to rectify that deficiency with this fine stab at Metal Urbain via 2nd LP era Ultravox! from their last release, My Life In The Field Of Cows. Of course, this being M-Squared, the bass is a keyboard and the drums are a fucking robot or some shit, but who can hold it against them when the results are this impressive? Dig the outro from the choruses - guitar says up, synth says down; guitar says down, synth says up. It's like M-Squared's relationship with the post-Birdman Sydney scene encapsulated in two notes.
One of the very few bands from Newcastle who could rightly be called a punk band, The Mansons popped out one 7" in 1982. Like a revved up Monkees with a gnarly guitar sound and a gruesome sense of humour, the band gives the impression they would have been a fun live proposition. This is supported by the band-members' monikers - Harry, Curly and Monkee Manson, and Donny Anarchy.
The topside is good slice of pop-punk with the lyrics spat out at a fast pace. The flipside is powerpop. The guitar is good but the vocals and rhythm section sound a bit tired; we assume it was recorded second.
The band existed from 1981 to 1983 and seem to have received mostly negative press in a town where boogie-till-you-puke rubbish was always better supported. You can read the extended history and see more photos like the below at the band's useful blog.
I Died Four Times (But I Don't Wanna Talk About It) [Download]
What little we know about the Puritans - and their (presumably) only release - comes from the handwritten note from brothers Matt (drums) and Jon Dickson (sax, bass, guitar, vocals, and songwriting), included with our copy. It reads thusly:
What can I say about the record? Start to Finish is basically the A-side, recorded about 2 years ago. Love/Bitter was the first thing we played when we got our instruments.
Jon is now playing bass and sax with Kill the King, who should be appearing shortly at the Trade Union Club with Sardine.
We regard the record as jazz rather than rock, as is most of our inspiration. You could say the music for us illustrates what we believe. It's an end in itself. It must have the power of conviction and be derived from your own experience and intelligence. Just as you believe in certain principles, the music must come from those principles.
Righty-o then. Love/Bitter sounds exactly as described - an attempt at free jazz by two dudes who just picked up their instruments. It is tedious. Start to Finish is much better, and fits neatly into the continuum of Laughing Clowns-inspired Sydney jazz-punk. Here, the basic musicianship and four-track recording work in its favour, lending it a feel closer to skronky no wave than Mr Uddich-Schmuddich...
Jon Dickson's tenure in Kill the King must have been relatively brief - the definitive No Night Sweats site doesn't include him as a member, for example. By 1982, he had joined Jeff Cannon (guitars, tenor sax, synth) and Bill Muysken (drums, percussion, alto sax, synth) in Little Pieces, who issued their Patrick Gibson/M-Squared-recorded LP The Bright World (Park Avenue Records PA 001, 1982) without having played a single gig. The album has some interesting moments, being a more refined, wholly instrumental take on the Puritans approach with the inclusion of some repetitive, droney tendencies. Brief album opener Lord Tony would not have been out of place on Quarterstick Records in the 1990s (think June of 44, Rodan, and their post-Slint ilk), whereas the driving, droney overtones are used to best effect on Party, our other pick from the LP.
Like many Festival Records pic sleeves of the era, The So+So's announce their one and only single as a "Limited Edition". Sure, but not as limited as the band's cassette releases, which we've never so much as laid eyes on. If you're holding, drop us a line. We're not exactly sure where to place this one - it's mildly punky in the verses, a bit powerpoppy in the chorus, and kinda mod-ish in the overall aesthetic (Rickenbackers, a Modern Sounds Now motto and a curious backwards endorsement for Pete Townshend). It's also decidedly EP's-like in its disregard for the rules of punctuation. Whatever, we're suckers for a strong, driving and melodic chorus so let's just go with powerpop. Pretty good, though it does suffer from the too clean/too loud drum sound that infects most of Basilisk Studio's post-1980 output. The flipside is downtempo and moody, and altogether undistinguished.
Last week's piece of Joy Division worship reminded us of another one from a more unlikely location - Queensland's Gold Coast, home of Surfers Paradise. The rock'n'roll history of this strip is short and uneventful. It didn't become much more than a holiday destination for Brisbanites until the '50s and its first dent in the collective consciousness of rock fans is when the Creatures, of Ugly Thing fame, set up shop there for a few months in the mid '60s. The locale is perhaps best known to readers here as the scene for the photo on the back of the Riptides' 77 Sunset Strip sleeve. Miami was also the home of the Magic Castle immortalised in a song on that 7".
Homegrown talent from the area is pretty thin on the ground. In the late '70s it was cover band hell, and although the OC hardcore sound and look took hold amongst the surf grommets in the early '80s, any punk bands that did form unfortunately never released anything, at least until Asylum in the mid '80s. There are only four (and a half) records from the Gold Coast from the era we cover, and only two we'd consider documenting. Apologies to the Ballistics, Sigh Of Relief and Squadron Leader. This 'un sees a band straddling Joy Division's transition into New Order. The vocals and guitar echoing the former, with the latter being represented by the strong rhythm section and the synth. "Hey, press that button that makes a sound like steam escaping again". We take the piss, but note that this one has survived the cull pile here on several occasions over the last few decades. Something keeps drawing us back. Needless to say it's not the further transition into new romantic horse shit evident on YouTube.
Syzygy is the longest singular word in English with no vowels. So I remember my mum telling me back in the early '80s. Now nearly thirty years later I find out why the word was even in her mind.
On Wednesday, March 10, 1982 the planets of our solar system came within 91 degrees of each other, all on the same side of the sun; a state of syzygy. Astronomers tell us this is a very rare event. Funnily enough it brought out the end-is-nigh crackpots.
That same night freaks of a different kind were drawn en masse to French's Wine Bar, a dingy and much loved basement venue on Oxford Street, Darlinghurst. The event was a celebration by the Dri Horrors of the potential end of the world.
The story of kiwi legends Toy Love's time in Sydney has been retold several times - see the epic Chris Knox interview in Forced Exposure 18, or Stranded In Paradise, or parts of the Toy Love website. Towards the end of their time here drummer Mike Dooley expressed a desire to switch to guitar. The band decided it was all too hard to continue, and to incorporate this change. They secretly broke up, telling no-one until they completed a short New Zealand tour. Dooley returned to Sydney and started a twin guitar band with our man Paul Cupples of The Sheiks.
The tale of the Dri Horrors is told here by Dooley in much more entertaining fashion than we can conjure. In summary, they got together, gigged a bit, recorded this EP and an unreleased album, booted Cupples, recruited half of Proud Scum then broke up after the death of their drummer Animal.
What we find interesting is the incursion of the famed New Zealand sound on an Australian record (recognising of course that three of the players are ex-pat Kiwis). We'll leave it to listeners to decide if it's the Dunedin, Wellington or Auckland variant on show here. It's most evident on Drown Or Swim and Maybe Next Time - downbeat, repetitive strum giving a drone-y effect, with a bit of the angular approach favoured by Wellingtonians. Sing Me A Song shows the most similarity to Cupples' earlier efforts in the Sheiks - a bit shouty, the guitar strokes dramatic. Part Of You has a jaunty, bluebeat rhythm (the other six letter word in English with no vowels) that we can't quite come at.
Die Dancing Bears' beginnings were in Adelaide, where vocalist Lynton Cox had gigged with Recoil, a training wheels punk band playing a few originals interspersed among Ramones and Stranglers covers. After the band's demise in March 1980, Cox dallied briefly with Cracked Actors before forming Die Dancing Bears in October with Daryl Champion (bass, ex-Void/Art Vandals), Liz Neat (drums), Kathryn O'Neil (keyboards), and Kym Tonkes (guitar). The band released a self-titled cassette the following year, before upping stumps and moving to Sydney where, in May 1982, this single was recorded with a slightly altered lineup - Neat (who found the band's music too depressing) having been replaced, initially by Iva Malone (who also found the band's music too depressing), then by Michael Waniarcha for the recording. Waniarcha found the band's behaviour depressing and was replaced by John Burgess after the single was recorded.
Drug Dance/New York Valentine was released in October, around the same time as Madroom's Cruelty of Beauty 12", making it among the first Australian records to veer self-consciously into UK-influenced goth-punk territory (though beyond Box of Fish, Club of Rome, Dorian Gray and perhaps Marble Soldiers, we can't think of too many others that fit the bill from the class of '82/'83). Goth, like Melbourne pub rock, is not our strong suit. Our experience extends about as far as TSOL's Dance With Me LP, which is to say, not very far; intentions of educating ourselves for this post fell by the wayside with the realisation that, ultimately, life's too short. That said, New York Valentine's sound is faster and more aggressive than we'd typically associate with the likes of Bauhaus and Southern Death Cult. Its pace, ascending riff, and discordant guitar clanging make it more akin to the Dead Kennedys' Bleed For Me, though given that it was recorded a month prior to Plastic Surgery Disasters, the DKs are an unlikely influence. We're on firmer ground in drawing a line to the Birthday Party's live run-through of Loose, and noting Cox's Cave-like vocal yelps - dig that opening scream.
The band continued into 1983 with additional line-up changes, but no further records would emerge. Tonkes later joined Madroom, vastly improving their sound on 1984's I Am For An Art... LP. Cox eventually returned to Adelaide, becoming a morning DJ on community station Three D. Sadly, he passed away in 2005.
Adelaide, as Danny Decay observed, it's a crazy place. Little did we realise when we planned Malcolm Fraser month that most of the recorded opposition to his nibs originated from South Australia's capital - the city of churches, Australia's serial killer capital, snooze-ville.
The most vociferous of them all is surely this ditty by three members of hometown legends the Dagoes. Although Fraser isn't mentioned by name, there's only one prime minister. Just to nail down the intention here's songwriter Doug Thomas's account of the track from the book Underground In The City Of Churches. Take it away, Doug:
"The lyric that is important is the very last line. 'Australia needs this man dead'. That's all I had to say, that's what the song's about, kill Malcolm Fraser - he's an arsehole. The Dagoes did it once or twice as an instrumental set opener in 1979, called something daft like Party Dress or Party Dance. Something really dumb, certainly not Assassination or Kill The Prime Minister, but it was rejected by the Dagoes, it was knocked back unanimously by Dick, Neil and Beau as a political statement which they didn't want. Dick flatly refused to sing it so it was an instrumental. It didn't unduly worry me until a couple of years later when the prick was still in power, and I still hadn't had my say!"
During one of the Dagoes' many break-ups Thomas got together with two other band members, Otis and The Turk (Geoff Short - brother of Filth's Bob Short), and advertised for a singer. Ian List came through the audition and the band practised under the names Ten Wombats, Electric Soup and Main Feature. Kill The Prime Minister was dusted off (along with another enticingly titled original, Up Yours Cazaly). Eventually the lineup settled as List, Thomas and Short under the name The Assassins.
Thomas, Turk, List, '82, trying not to look like Hüsker Dü
In February 1982 Kill The Prime Minister was recorded, and after some funding difficulties finally released in 1983 on Greasy Pop. It's one of the easier-to-find Australian punk records and as a result is perhaps unfairly ignored. Unfairly because instrumentally and thematically at least it's a little monster. While the guitar is sharp and loud, the vocals are pushed back deliberately - it was List's first go in a studio and Thomas wasn't overly happy with the results. The band never played live as far as we are aware, and anyway soon changed their name again to the Falling Spikes, then the Spikes.
Kill The Prime Minister was also reissued under its original title on a split 12" with Ian List and The UVs in 1990 (GPR 100/152).
Assassination
Suicide
The Assassins disenchantment with the PM by 1982 merely echoed that of the electorate. Faced with a recession, high inflation and rising unemployment, the people were ready to go with the ALP. Fraser called a snap election on 3 February 1983, unaware that that morning Labor had replaced their then leader with the popular Bob Hawke. The Liberals well and truly had their daks removed at the March poll.
Which neatly leads into one last Malcolm Fraser incident. Attending an ex-heads of government junket in Memphis, Tenn. in 1986, he was seen wandering around the foyer of the Admiral Benbow Inn in a towel, discombobulated, and wondering aloud as to the whereabouts of his trousers. Trousers (missing) in action, as it were. Amongst allegations of prostitutes and being slipped a Mickey Finn, Fraser has stayed mum all these years, surely taking the Mickey Bliss one more time.
Malcolm "sporting the mohawk look" on the cover of Trousers In Action 1, 1982.
For those who came in late (as the Phantom comics used to say), Plastic EP and the Records debuted in 1981 with a self-proclaimed "New Wave" record - in reality a great, punky DIY single, the product of a spontaneous creative process and a desire to capture the moment, warts and all. Resurfacing in 1982 under a more collective appellation, the EPs' second single shows them pursuing a musical direction befitting of the previous 45's product information message.
A very different proposition from its predecessor, the follow-up displays a greater degree of, dare we say, "professionalism". For starters, there are drum machines and sequencers all over this puppy, which have the effect of corralling the songs into much tighter structures. The songs are more fully developed, too (one gets the sense that the band is aided and abetted here by their producer, Rudy Brandsma), but still show telltale signs of the classic EPs minimalism - the intro/outro riff of Secret Love is Three Special Words in reverse! And of course, singer Plastic EP's trademark tendency to loiter in the vicinity of (but never actually on) the note is in full effect. Add some inexplicable sound effects - dogs barking, babies crying - and things are never in any danger of becoming too, uh, normal.
Before moving on, we note with interest that the labels credit "Eric" with videos for both tracks. The videos have so far eluded us - Eric, if you're out there, we encourage you to avail yourself of Youtube.
Secret Love
Forget All I Said
Secret Love was the EPs' last appearance on vinyl. As record collectors, it's tempting to view this single as the end of the story, when in fact it was just the beginning. The EPs continued on throughout the '80s, gigging sporadically, and even appearing on Hey Hey It's Saturday's Red Faces in 1987 (again, if anyone reading this has the segment on tape, Youtube awaits). With some line-up changes, the band still exists to this day, rehearsing and recording at its Melbourne home base. In our last instalment, we alluded to the fact that the 7" format enforced a certain quality control on the EPs' output, and noted that the culling process became less and less apparent over time. Taking their "record now, think later" MO into the digital age, the EPs' every fart is now documented and uploaded to the internet for the whole world to hear. At the time of writing, there were 100 albums - 100! - available for download, with more being threatened. Some of this material is self-described as "comedy rock", but it's often difficult to determine where the sincerity ends and the comedy begins. Where, for instance, does an amateur "Mega-Mix" of At Home fit in the scheme of things?
If Wesley Willis floats your boat, we suspect that there are some hidden gems awaiting you among the EPs' back-catalogue, but to find them you'll need to be made of stronger stuff than us. That being said, fans of the Secret Love single are advised to check out Make A Record, another early EPs composition which appears to have been recorded in the same session.
Addendum: 20 January, 2011
Ask and ye shall receive - The EPs on Red Faces, 19 September, 1987.
Summer has finally arrived down here. So here's a good summer record - breezy, unaffected, fun. Like this year's summer though it's a bit all over the place - poppy, punky, even a bit Oz rocky in the full-frontal basslines. You will certainly wish that the guitarist put a bit more grunt into his sound, but all four tunes are good, the energy level is high, the voice distinctive and the lyrics odd. The punkiest track is Johnny Was A Rock Star which also features a touching tribute to Ian Krahe:
Ian was the X guitarist,
He never got to be 21
I read about it in the papers
Them bastards dragged him down
Never saw him, never heard him
I never really cared
But two bottles and a couple of belts of scag
Didn't seem to me very fair
We'll mark this one as a Sydney record, though we're not 100% certain. It was recorded at Paradise Studios which at the time, December 1981, was in Kings Cross. Then there's the mention of surfing at Cronulla in Go For Broke. Then there's the "thanks to the boys at Stead Bros", a metal and rubber stamp factory at Rockdale. Hmmm, the stamped labels are quite fancy, maybe the guys worked there. Ok, ok, it's a Sydney record. Someone once told us 200 pressed, though that's still hearsay at this stage.
The band appears to have resurfaced in the last decade. A CDEP called Scales And Scrapes was released.
Think you know a lot about Australian records in the punk era? We promise to astonish you with stuff off everybody's radar. We apply quality control so our powerpop has power, our glam has prominent balls, our punk is spiky and our DIY is far, far out there. We'll also do it-never-ends exposés of sleeve variations and inserts you didn't know existed. Strap yourself in and enjoy the ride.