by Tom Fiend
I’m not entirely sure why, but I’m finding this article difficult to write. I’ve started at least twice over from scratch in an attempt to find a happy medium between raving endlessly about this fantastic band I’m about to introduce to you and appearing as a apathetic, hack of a writer that can’t be enthused about anything anymore.
To put it bluntly, Celebrity Stalkers deserve your respect, every ounce of it and nothing less.
Firstly, it’s their character. I’ve met plenty of young men and women that have been around local music for a while. They have this uncanny habit of being pricks. They may well deserve that luxury, having already had every damn conversation you’re trying to have with them. Not Celebrity Stalkers. Front man and songwriter Budge is among the friendliest men I’ve had the honor of meeting and every conversation is a pleasure. He has no qualms with waxing nostalgic, with many an impressive story such as when his old band (The La Fetts) had their music confiscated from 4zzz in the heart of the Bjelke-Petersen government, only to now have it reside in the National Archives. Or that they were deemed too controversial to support Dead Kennedys when they toured Australia in their prime.
Their music is great. If The Saints were Brisbane’s Ramones, Blowhard our Operation Ivy, then Budge is our Iggy Pop or maybe Dick Lucas. A lyricist with a a razor-sharp tongue held firmly in cheek and a consummate vocalist supported by a fantastically talented band that play the best of raw, distorted, politically-driven punk rock music. The songs are catchy as hell and don’t fuck about in getting to the point. They’ve only recently launched their EP ‘Photo Opportunity’ which I highly recommend you (yes, you specifically) pick up a copy of.
Endless dedication. I wish to be respectful here so I won’t say too much on the matter. Budge simply can’t gig as often as he would like to and yet while the band promoter Cass will do what she can to ensure his well being, the stubborn sonofabitch can’t bare to disappoint an audience. In an era in which musicians regularly cancel entire tours at the hint of the ‘flu, only this weekend past the unstoppable Budge stepped off mid-set in the throws of illness to void his stomach contents, only to have him return to finish the set. Pure class to the end.
They humble me, and leave me in awe with every show I see. So much for not being a hapless fanboy.