Put your hands up if you’re pumped for Twestival in only 4 sleeps time? (I know BOTH of mine are up!)
I think it is time I introduced you to the people who will be making your spine tingle, ears wiggle and feet tap on Friday eve.
So without much further ado, get excited for…
The Gentlemen
There’s nothing funny about The Gentlemen. Nothing new. Nothing old. Nor nothing blue. They sing observational songs about everyday life; why do ‘Kraft’ cream cheese spell ‘Kraft’ with a ‘K’? Its just not right. Why does the white deodorant lines on my black dress always attract the wrong sort of men?
If you often ask questions like these, then come watch them play. They’ll buy you a tin of malt for tasty milkshakes, or a beige turtle neck pant suit. It’s your call. You’ve got nothing to lose, except 300 bucks, your mobile phone and most of your self dignity.
Mainly based in the hills of Brisbane, The Gentlemen spend their waking hours making solar system sculptures with nothing but a hot glue gun and twine. And occasionally writing tunes.
Their main goals as a band are clear and set out in front of them. They WILL see Posh Beckham with her kit off, braid the hair of an unknown layabout, make carbonara for a large gaggle of Australian figbirds and one day, maybe, just maybe, capture a repressed minority group, strip them of all their worldly possessions, have our way with the women, kill the men, and make the children make impossibly tiny furniture for the mansion we’re making for G.I Joe and Polly Pocket to live in.
Look out.
Check
The Gentlemen out before Friday on
MySpace
Ciao for now, my fellow excited peeps!
Julia