The Falls Festival organisers have been ‘drip-feeding’ the line-up announcements for this years’ festival, announcing a few acts here, a few acts there, dishing them out protectively like 10-day-old stale chunks of soda bread at a Soviet internment camp. This is one of the worst promotional tools currently utilized by the architects of these types of events and makes me want to storm their offices like a retro 80’s Palestinian terrorist in Munich and stab them in their stupid faces. (As a side note, I couldn’t have taken an 80’s Palestinian terrorist seriously, what, with the afro, the fitted tracksuit and the gold chains… they all looked like extras from ‘Welcome Back Kotter’).

Well, maybe that was a slight overreaction. Sorry, I’m still coming to grips with their announcement that (once again) The Hilltop Hoods are on the bill. FOR FUCKS SAKE! Are these guys still alive? When are we going to be able to put that awful period in Australian history behind us and let these hopeless goobers fade into obscurity? They are the musical equivalent of throwing down pot after pot of premix Bundaberg Rum & Coke on tap in a Mackay Workers Club. (Both are crass and highly formulated, leave behind an awful after-taste and are dangerous to both yourself and others when consumed in large quantities.)

A bit of Pressure relief. “I took care of Suffa with these two fingers. My thumb was a little bonus…”

My favourite (read: least favourite) track of theirs would have to be their Homeric ode to all things bogan, ‘What a Great Night’. I truly believe that this song encapsulates the ‘Hilltop Ethos’ so completely that no further example need be given. The chorus, in particular, provides a real insight the collective psyche of MCs Suffa and Pressure & DJ Debris.

‘And it’s all love, and it’s alright. Till we’re all drunk, then it’s all fights. Then it’s all over, go home, go sleep, Wake up, get sober, what a great night’.

Two things:

1)      You really shouldn’t start sentences with a conjunction.

2)      I’m unsure if getting into what sounds to be a number of separate physical and verbal confrontations that have clearly terminated your evening and forced you to retire to your homestead are supportive of your latter claim to the evening having been ‘a great night’.

Every one of their songs has the same basic formula.

1)      A lame hook (often not even theirs if a sampled track is used).

2)      A shit story about their own ‘tough’ upbringing or a guy or girl down on their luck.

3)      Boasting about achievements that have been achieved in spite of point 2.

4)      Boasting about drinking, fucking, or fighting prowess

5)      A combination of some, or all of the above.

When they hit the stage at Falls, I’m bailing. I’m going to stumble back to my campsite and drown them out with the mighty Souls of Mischief on full noise while imbibing copious amounts of cheap cask wine in relative solitude. Feel free to join me. I’ll be the pissed tall bloke.

The Hilltop Hoods – Music that rugby league players have almost consensual group-sex to.

/end communication